Without noticing it I’ve now being attending the
Kennington Bioscope for over 11 years and there is always something to learn
every time I go: something that will delight and move me in unexpected ways as
well as historical-cultural insights you don’t get in the same way or at least
with the same frequency. The KB formula is flexible and based on a freer
programming schedule than most other film clubs, and tonight was no exception
with a first half celebrating the 130 anniversary of cinema in this country –
RW Paul and the Lumiere brothers both projecting film programmes on the same
day – February 20th in London – and a main feature from Japanese
director, Mikio Naruse, that just blew our collective socks off with its style
and quality.
To start at the ending, No Blood Relation (生さぬ仲),
is the oldest surviving feature-length film from a director who ended up making
so many more over the next three decades and whose work is certainly less well
known than his contemporaries like Yasujiro Ozu. They have different styles but
Naruse is just as effective in dealing with the human condition and in
foregrounding women in emotional narratives that address timeless questions
about their role in contemporary Japan as it evolved into a more militaristic
and industrialised country.
Naruse intimate film acknowledges the cultural clash as
well as the changes in relationships as a successful film star, Tamae Kiyooka (Yoshiko
Okada) returns home after six years away. Okada was the star of Ozu’s Woman
of Tokyo (1933) and led a dramatic life herself and would defect to Soviet
Russia after the Second Sino-Japanese War in 1937 with her lover, the acting
coach and activist, Ryōkichi Sugimoto. She had already been the subject of
industry scandal but would now remain in the USSR until her death in Moscow in 1992.
Back in Naruse’s film she is greeted by dozens of
photographers and hundreds of admirers before finding her brother, Keiji
(Ichirō Yūki) who helps her escape the hubbub and find a suitable hotel. He we
have just seen working with a street thief, Gen the Pelican (Shozaburo Abe) in
a slapstick strip scene in which a casing mob search the young man only for his
pal to have taken the purse in question. This is played for laughs but their criminality
will soon aid Tamae’s plan to be reunited with her daughter.
The scene shifts to that daughter Shigeko (a remarkably
assured performance from Toshiko Kojima) as she plays with her toys and with
her adoptive mother Masako (Yukiko Tsukuba) who is married to Tamae’s former
lover and is the child’s natural father, Shunsaku Atsumi (Shin'yō Nara). The
two split after the baby was born as the actress was more interested in another
man and her career and so Atsumi, his mother Kishiyo (Fumiko Katsuragi) and now
his new wife have raised the child.
It's going to get worse, but Atsumi’s day is already
going badly as he has been declared bankrupt; a fact that gets him little
sympathy from his mother who has got used to the wealthy way of living. He
receives an unexpected offer to rescue the business and is crestfallen when he
meets the potential investor, Tamae, who had left him holding their baby as she
moved on to another life with another man. Her offer is simple but
unacceptable: let me have my daughter back and I will save your business and
your honour.
Despite his clear lack of business acumen Atsumi stands
strong and gets arrested as a result of his business mismanagement. As the
investigation proceeds the tug of love begins in earnest as Tamae bribes his
mother to help her kidnap Shigeko with the aid of her brother. But the child
will not be swayed and nor will her adoptive mother who is far more connected
than her biological mother.
She is helped by her husband’s handsome pal Masaya
Kusakabe (Jōji Oka who is just so cool in Ozu’s Dragnet Girl!) who is a martial
artist and heroically coded, giving the bad guys a beating but otherwise trying
to negotiate between the two mothers. Ultimately it’s a tale of the desire for
parenthood and the love that can only be nurtured. Timeless in its way and riveting
till the end.
Accompaniment was provided by John Sweeney who improvised
a sympathetic concerto that was entirely within the film, filling out the
emotional lines with fluidity and steadfast commitment to some wonderful
emoting on screen. Naruse expert, programmer Dr Kelly Robinson, introduced and
gave us a summary of the director’s career and highlighted his use of camera
movement and pull-ins to maximise the emotional impact of his characters, it’s
a startling technique and sets him apart from Ozu and others of the time. He’s
certainly someone I want to see more of and this year’s Hippfest (18th
to 22nd March!) will feature another of his films, Apart from You
(1933).

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