A terrible plot is forged around a castle in the south.
Good and loyal subjects already fell under the hand of the devils…
Another journey of discovery and a startling film produced
by the director of A Page of Madness (1926), Teinosuke Kinugasa, and
directed by Toko (aka Fujie) Yamazaki making this the first Japanese silent I’ve
seen directed by a woman. Castle… aka Fûun jôshi was made for
Kinugasa, part of the Shimogamo studio, it’s a stylish jidai geki, a
Japanese period drama involving a samurai clan in this case one poisoned by
treachery in which a lone warrior must put honour above his own interests and loyalty
to authority above love all and, of course, he must fight.
Almost as soon as the cameras started rolling, the genre made
it to screen in Kōchiyama to Nao-zamurai (1916) and was well established
by the twenties, flourishing later with classics such as The 47 Ronin
(1941), Rashomon (1950) and Seven Samurai (1954). It’s the
Japanese equivalent of the western or chivalric tale, honour and duty aligned
to bravery, love and combat skill… lone heroes making a difference. The
highpoint of any such film is the action but also the moral force
painful decisions made in the name of duty something we all relate to.
The film begins and ends with similar shots of a man on
horseback, riding down/up the same spiral path from the land beyond all with a
gorgeous pink tint. It’s a young man, Shinhachi (Chojiro Hayashi), who has returned
home from years of training in the capital, to the land he grew up in and his
head is filled with lyrical thoughts of the land, the light and his beautiful fiancée
Chigusa (Akiko Chihaya) who has pledged to wait as long as it takes, lonely
and sad, until you come back…
Chojiro Hayashi |
He is met by his elder brother Einoshin (Sôroku Kazama) and
informed that “storm and turmoil await” as the clan is being poisoned by
their treacherous uncle, Sannosuke (Ippei Soma). Hayashi, later Kazuo Hasegawa,
was just twenty and at the start of a huge film career stretching over 300
films from 1927 to 1968. Here his persona is that of a bidanshi, an androgynous
youth – literally “beautiful boy” – in a tradition that stretches way back into
Japanese literature and is very “gender” as my daughter might say as this guy
can fight; a peacock with a dazzling blade (make of that what you will…).
By contrast Sannosuke is a gurning mask of evil superbly
pantomimed by Soma who pulls the eye with dark, almost comic malevolence but
whilst these characterisations may seem black and white there’s more graduated
tints around the head of the clan, Lord Hachiya Teruaki (Keinosuke Sawada as
Myoichiro Ozawa), a tyrant and yet with a sense of fairness all his own. He is
unaware of the machinations against him, distracted by orgies and festivities, revelling
in lust and luxury.
If you really love her, kill your rival and she will return to your arms…
Akiko Chihaya |
Shinhachi is reunited with his sweetheart but in the Lord’s
court where he has taken her as one of his concubines… Sannosuke immediately
tries to take advantage of the young man’s despair, urging him to kill their
leader and take his love back. Shinhachi is however, steadfast and not the
hot-headed young samurai Sannosuke hopes, warrior he is though and calm in the
midst of conflict and hand to hand combat: I am willing to give my life for
our Lord and our clan. The long, poetic intertitles are perhaps a
reflection of the benshi-style narration that would have accompanied the film’s
original screenings.
Angered by Shinhachi’s unyielding loyalty, Sannosuke arranges for a group of assassins to despatch him but things do not work out as he planned as the young man holds them off before being joined by another martial arts expert from the clan Nikaido Juppeita (Shinkuro Masamune) who, after helping despatch the assassins in a set piece fight that wouldn’t look out of place in many a later film, warns him of the escalating danger.
Meanwhile our young hero’s brother Einoshin’s illness is getting worse as Shinhachi goes home to see him and his mother (Yoshie Nakagawa). This film’s all heart as well as action and the emotional sacrifices to be made only heighten the dramatic impact of the core messages about discipline and loyalty.
They're outnumbered one-to-nine... |
My body is the sacrifice of my desperate love. But my
soul is always with you.
Shinhachi plays the flute outside of Chigusa’s quarters and
his love hears him… the two exchange words of resigned longing… Then walking in
the grounds, he encounters a group of assassins who have tried to kill the
Lord, he fights them off using his flute and superior technique but the next
day is accused of being one of them by the Lord’s guards and asked to prove his
innocence or commit hara-kiri. To protect the family’s honour and buy his
brother time, Einoshin kills himself, certain f his brother’s innocence and
pleading for him to always stay loyal to their Lord.
You spiteful bandits, meet my martial art! Be ready.
This the scene is set for more superbly choreographed
battles as Shinhachi fights for his love, his honour and his clan as the full
extent of Sannosuke’s plan are revealed and well, you just have to see it all
for yourself. The direction is flowing and the sense of place so well maintained
with cinematography from Eiji [Eiichi] Tsuburaya who went on to have a huge
career including the development of special effects, he was co-creator of the
Godzilla and Ultraman franchises, and some 300 films.
Stephen Horne and Frank Bockius have martial, musical discipline
of their own and armed with flute, piano and a multitude of objects to hit,
played along with the action and the emotion. Ninjas of silent film accompaniment,
you hear them when they want you too but are otherwise seamlessly invisible
within the whole experience of a screening, loyal, as Shinhachi to the Prince,
to the art on screen. They played a blinder and I really hope to see this film
and their music in the UK sometime.
Another special discovery courtesy of Bonn. As I said, next
year it’s a date!
Shinkuro Masamune |
Ippei Soma |
Chojiro Hayashi, Yoshie Nakagawa and Sôroku Kazama |
Keinosuke Sawada |
Akiko Chihaya |
No comments:
Post a Comment