Passion

By 1964 standards, this film really doesn't mess around, nor does it take any prisoners. It's fairly blatant about the story centering on two women who fall in love, but also don't entirely cut their husbands/male partners out of their lives, which leads to complications and some drastic things that feel a little extreme, but I'd chalk it up to Japan being a different culture at a different time... or just the film trying to make a point, and not necessarily be a reflection of how this situation would play out in real life. Have to accept it's one or the other; I think you just have to admit defeat, in a way, by saying you don't always know for sure when it comes to foreign films.

The dark and emotionally intense places Manji goes also make it feel a bit melodramatic, but again, I can't assume. And even then, if it is melodrama, I think it's mostly well-done melodrama; that kind of thing isn't automatically bad. Maybe there's some repetition and characters saying things in such a blatant way that can feel forced, but it could be partly intended. Perhaps it's wrong to assume it either is or isn't clunky dialogue. The truth could be somewhere in between.

Waffling here. It's not well-paced, but the film is well-acted and I admire how it handled such a story 60 years ago. If some of the melodrama was intended, then I think the writing was acceptably blunt and the performances were effectively heightened. The grimmer parts of the story don't quite devastate the way I thought they would, but that might be owing to the film's structure, with one character narrating a series of events from her perspective. It creates some intrigue, but also some sense of inevitability; a bit of a double-edged sword. And then it also ends pretty suddenly.

But I have to keep coming back to it being good for its time. I wasn't expecting this film to take the approach it did, and I imagine it would've caused at least some controversy in Japan at the time.

What do you get when you combine early-60's hairdo's and makeup, histrionic Japanese love triangles and forbidden lesbian passion? In this case, a wonderfully bonkers movie that deserves a larger cult audience.

Any movie that features blood oaths, suicide pacts, taboo love affairs and a wife screaming "You don't love me enough! I need more love!" is one I'll want to see again and again. (Too bad it's so hard to come by in the U.S. -- the film screened recently at the American Cinematheque and Outfest in L.A., and at the San Francisco Gay/Lesbian Film Festival, but apparently only after much paperwork with Japan. Still, if you actually get a chance to see it, DO NOT MISS IT!

You know what ground you're treading with Manji from the get go. From the swastika (the titular Manji) that announces the film's title, there's nothing understated about it. The story of lesbian love between the middle-class wife of a lawyer and a strikingly gorgeous model who poses for painters at the centre of Manji is not of the suggestive 'glances and gestures' variety, this is not a drama on homosexual love repressed by a rigid Japanese society, rather a soaring melodrama masquerading a seemy underbelly of lies and morbid obsession.

It's true that the movie requires on the part of the viewer a few jumps in logic. It asks him to accept that two complete strangers become so obsessed with each other in a matter of days. But this is a two hour movie neatly crammed in 90 minutes so the narrative economy is not wasted. Out of the sweet, alluring love affair between the two women director Yasuzo Masumura twists a progressively more nightmarish, demented scenario, a convoluted story of fatal obsession, the addiction to a perverse love, the need to control and be controlled and how quick humans are to elevate other humans to a pedestal, eager to worship and die for them.

If the movie seems to be twisting and writhing under the burden of its own narrative weight, with small alliances, blood oaths, rifts and reconciliations and all manner of cajoling and petty chicanery taking place between the four major participants (the two women, the husband of one and fiancé of the second) as each tries to win the object of his desire or fend someone else from doing so, stick with it. Masumura has paced the film and shaped his story so expertly that, by the one hour mark, this tale of domestic treachery has spiralled out of control into full blown paranoia, a bizarre and creepy psychological horror film of sorts that happens so naturally and feels so perfectly plausible at that point as to excuse the more overwrought tendencies that preceed it.

The movie reflects that kind of claustrophobic obsession on every level. Limited cast, tight shots, static camera, close grouping of the actors in the frame, no exterior shots, monotonous piano score. Any way you see it, this is a minor aesthetic triumph for Masumura. Strongly recommended.

Wonderful film based on the novel "Quicksand" by Juinichiro Tanizaki and directed by the great Japanese director Yasuzô Masumura, the film tells the story of a married woman who begins a sick and obsessive love relationship with a beautiful and ruthless young girl (played by a marvelous Ayako Wakao), that insane relationship will lead to a tragic ending ...

The movie tells a story about passion, love and betrayal, displaying tons of sensuality stylishly without need of being explicit...

The are too many other versions of this movie made years later but I highly doubt that they can come any closer to this piece of art...

MASTERPIECE

Directed and shot with some style, this is a rather lovely tragic drama involving a quartet of characters.

Very Japanese in it's thrust and preoccupations this well told tale pleases and surprises as it unfolds ever unpredictably.

There is much talk of love and betrayal, forgiveness and of course suicide.

The scenes involving the taking of the powders from the bright red squares of paper are astonishing.

Ever beautiful with effective music this not overlong classic of 60's Japanese cinema is a real treat.