Shinjû: Ten no Amijima

Kichiemon Nakamura is a paper merchant, desperately in love with courtesan Shima Iwashita and she with him, but she has five years left on her contract and he does not have the money to free her from it. He is also married -- his wife is also played by Miss Iwashita, who is married to the director of the movie, Masahiro Shinoda -- and so they speak about killing themselves together. In the meantime, their love has become common gossip.

It's based on Chikamatsu Monzaemon's 1721 joruni puppet play THE LOVE SUICIDES AT ANIJIMAI; a live performance soon followed. Monzaemon (1653-1725) was the son of a masterless samurai. It is uncertain when he wrote the first of his more than 130 plays, but his earliest known credit was 1683's THE SOGA HEIRS. He wrote for puppet plays and, until the middle 1690s, kabuki. He is widely thought to be Japan's greatest playwright.

This production acknowledges both forms. The play starts in a theater, with a producer speaking of the problems; some mannequin heads bespeak of the puppet drama. The rest of the movie is kabuki-like, with artificial-looking sets and masked stagehands in black to move props around, follow the lovers as their go about the course of their tragedy, and aid in their suicide. Their presence in the cinematic medium, which usually stressed naturism, gives them a weird, demonic purpose as the executioners of fate.

Fine film. I usually prefer non historic Japanese films but this is really very good and the tendency to being ponderous is not here at all. Watched this after seeing the wonderful Pale Flower, directed by Masahiro Shinoda a few years before this and was not disappointed. The film opens with a discussion as to how the suicide sequence is to be shot and we see traditional Kabuki puppets, all during the opening credits. Historic setting and very traditional goings on, not good news, I thought but how wrong. Once the film begins we are in the territory of live action only, although there is the sensational element of puppetry in the form of black cloaked 'puppeteers' forever hovering around, attending to the main protagonists and changing scenery about. There is not a frame that is not perfect and despite the plot being remarkably slender, this is riveting and all involving.

In 18th Century in Japan, the paper merchant Jihei (Kichiemon Nakamura) falls in love for the courtesan Koharu (Shima Iwashita), but he can not afford to redeem her from her master and owner of the brothel, since he spent all his money in the place with Koharu. Jihei's wife Osan tries to keep her husband with his two children and asks Koharu to leave him. The two lovers make a pact of double suicide to escape from the rigid rules of the Japanese society of 1720 and stay together after death.

"Shinjû: Ten no Amijima" is an extremely original movie, based on a Japanese puppeteers theater (called "Bunraku") popular play by Monzaemon Chikamatsu. The Shakespearian story of an impossible love is theatrically performed, inclusive with the presence of the "kuragos", the puppet masters that conduct the puppets in the "Bunraku". Although being much related to Japanese culture, this movie is a great experience for those like me that have interest in other cultures. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Duplo Suicídio em Amijima" ("Double Suicide in Amikima")

"Double Suicide" is a bunraku puppet performance at its core, with perhaps the only difference being that actual humans play the roles of the puppets.

The puppet masters, their faces covered with thin black silk masks, move around props, rapidly change the minimal sets, never interfering with the plot or the characters, yet moving them forward and cooperating with them in a way that is not at all distracting.

The puppets themselves are finely crafted, and the characters that they play present a depth of humanity that is rare in all forms of staged entertainment (whether it be a movie, a play, or the like). Being puppets, however, the viewer is left feeling detached from them, even if there is a sense of humanity present that one can grasp. Oddly enough, that is a good thing in this case - it increases the sense of how the only thing that one could do when the tragic events unfold is to watch.

This is not a film for all tastes, obviously. But the same statement can apply to the bunraku puppet play that this movie is based on. This performance is pulled off with perfection, and I highly recommend it.

10 out of 10

Based on a 18th century bunraku play (Japanese form of puppet theater) by Chikamatsu, Double Suicide revolves around the star-crossed love of paper merchant Jihei and courtesan Koharu. The problem in Jihei's case however is twofold. First he's a married man and second he can't afford to pay the brothel Koharu works in and redeem her. In the face of their unrequisite and impossible love, Jihei and Koharu decide to commit suicide together - the inevitably tragic conclusion the title refers to.

Double Suicide is a three-act filmed play but it's director Masahiro Shinoda's command of the craft that transforms it into something more. Since the original is a bunraku puppet play, he opens the film with modern bunraku actors preparing for it and after the credits sequence switches the puppets for real actors.

The puppet masters however remain present for the entire movie, dressed in black suits, looking all the same, mute and mostly motionless, like artificial props and part of the set decoration they're charged with changing. Indeed they remove and change sets, actively take part in the action and interact with the actors and even freeze narrative time for our convenience but the best part (and a testament to Shinoda's talent) is that they never call attention to themselves as a gimmick.

They blend seamlessly with the combination of traditional and abstract painted sets and there are times you forget they're even present in the scene until they move. What they do mostly however is observe. Shinoda's direction is as usual perfect - enhanced by Criterion's pristine transfer, Double Suicide is a feast for the eyes shot in stark black and white, where the black is black and the white is white.

Related to Shinoda's excellent directorial skills, a common conception about him is that he's a director easy to admire but hard to love. I think Double Suicide effectively combines the best of both worlds - the technical prowess of a master cinematician with a touching and tragic love story, with universal roots but a very traditionally Japanese approach - the conflict between duty (giri) and passion (ninjo).