Chieko-sho

Another stellar performance by the one and only Shima Iwashita, who plays Chieko. The movie tells the story of two artists who fall in love and marry. I was moved by how supportive and non-traditional the husband was considering the conventional constrictions of marriage in Japan at the time. We watch them grow as artists and as a married couple. Even more touching was the husband's devotion to Chieko during a crisis in their lives. Some of the films most memorable scenes are about the complexities of dealing with someone you love dealing with circumstances beyond anyone's control. Might be tempting to categorize it as a "chick flick," but because it is based on a true story, and because it is so sensitively done and beautifully filmed it transcends sentimentality. The way the director joined art and music in this film is especially lovely. The actor who plays Chieko's husband gives an excellent performance. I definitely recommend this film.

Today's August 4th - Noboru Nakamura's birthday - and I've been diving back into his filmography. Two films stuck with me: The Shape of Night (1964) and Portrait of Chieko (1967). They couldn't be more different in style, but both show Nakamura's knack for telling tough stories without making them feel exploitative.

"Portrait of Chieko" hits different. It's based on this real-life artist couple from early 1900s Japan, and Shima Iwashita (who's incredible here) plays Chieko, a painter slowly losing her grip on reality. What's wild is how Nakamura handles her mental breakdown - there's no big dramatic moment, just these small, heartbreaking changes in how she moves through the world. The film never spells out whether it's her stalled career, societal pressure, or something else entirely that's breaking her. It just shows you this relationship unraveling in the most painfully believable way.

What makes both films work is how grounded they feel. "The Shape of Night" follows a factory worker turned sex worker, but it's not some morality tale - it's just watching someone get stuck in a life they didn't plan for. Nakamura's great at finding these little moments that say everything: a glance held too long, a conversation half-heard in a crowded bar. And the acting? Next-level. Iwashita in particular makes Chieko feel so real you forget you're watching a performance.

It's crazy these aren't better known outside Japan. They've got that rare quality where they feel specific to their time and place, but the emotions land just as hard today. Perfect examples of how to tell difficult stories with honesty and respect. If you're into Japanese cinema at all, they're absolutely worth tracking down - birthday viewing or otherwise.