There are remarkable similarities between the Japanese and Italian film industries. Both exploded after the Second World War, starting out more art based before sliding into exploitation. They both contained impressive technicians and studio facilities. Both tended to copy American genres while developing their own; samurai in Japan, peplum, or sword and sandal films, and giallo in Italy. And both their film industries were undercut by the growth of television, eroding the market base, eventually collapsing.
In both countries, art films and sexploitation films came in nearly simultaneously. This was partially due to the fact that in America, a giant market that could potentially double the profit of a foreign film, mainly watched these at independent theaters for the sexual elements that couldn't be found in U.S. movies under the Hayes code. Fellini's 'The Nights At Cabiria', Kurosawa's 'Rashomon' and even Ingmar Bergman movies were considered sexy fare for the 1950s. They dealt with sex, prostitution or even rape in ways that Hollywood could not touch.
The rise of the US porn industry was another blow to both the Japanese and Italian film industries. The foreign film market disappeared simultaneous with the rise of the X rated theater. There was still exploitation, using the promise of sex and violence without actually delivering too much. The Japanese art films of the 1960s were often splattered with nudity, from 'Women of the Dunes' through 'Cruel Story of Youth' to 'Blind Beast'. Yakuza films could add both violence and sex together, often in dizzying amounts, enough to make low budget potboiler 'Branded to Kill' be considered decades later an art film.
Samurai films mostly stayed away from sex during the 1960s, but the character of Yojimbo and the ultraviolent duel a the end of 'Sanjoro' set the stage for escalating bloody sword play. "Hara-kiri' from 1962 may have been the first film to show the influence of this increased violence. Mostly talky, told in flashback, tension builds as an old Ronin tells his tale before committing ritual suicide. When the swords do come out at the end, it's worth the wait.
Tatsuya Nakadai's star power and acting skills help sell the picture. Gifted with a brooding, haunted presence very different from Toshiro Mifune, he had already been used as a foil twice by Kurosawa, first as the Elvis-looking gun nut in 'Yojimbo', then as the Ronin who demands his honor be satisfied by a duel at the end of 'Sanjoro'. He had already made a splash in 'The Human Condition', a nine hour anti-war epic,.He would frequently play disturbed samurai for the rest of the decade.
Often he was teamed with Toshiro Mifune, as in the excellent 'Samurai Rebellion' and 'Sword of Doom'. In the second movie, he takes his haunted samurai portrayal to the extreme, ending with the most nihilistic final freeze frame I have ever witnessed. 'Kill' and especially 'Goyokin' are further evidence of Nakadai's excellent choice of samurai films. 'Goyokin', which uses a very snowy landscape, is particularly good, with an excellent villain in Tetsuro Tamba, another big name in Japanese cinema.
In fact, Tamba was chosen to play opposite Sean Connery in 'You Only Live Twice', a role destined to give him a world-wide presence equal to Toshiro Mifune. He was the standout lead in 'Three Outlaw Samurai' from 1964, another violent tale, and like Nakadai, often played villains. He was exported to Europe as one of the leads in the mindless 'Five Man Army in 1969'. Not always displaying good decision making in choice of roles, he eventually amassed over 325 acting credits on IMDB.
The only real competition to Toshiro Mifune as a samurai actor came from a strange place; a pudgy blind masseuse named Zatoichi. Shintaro Katsu went from relative obscurity to big time movie star playing this rather strange role, popular enough for over twenty films in the series between 1962 and 1972. None of the movies are exactly masterpieces, but they are all superior entertainment, bringing new elements into the samurai film; helplessness and revenge. Katsu has a quirky charm, playing the role of Zatoichi very well, with a sword style that is completely unique.
Watching the evolution of Zatoichi is watching the evolution of the samurai film during the same time period. They start in black and white, using studio sets, gradually moving outdoors, now color epics. Daiei started producing them; as the studio ran into financial trouble over the decade, a common occurrence, Katsu productions took over, moving to the reliable Toho Studios by the end of the initial run. They start out fairly chaste, the bloodletting minimal; by the end, the red flows regularly, tits and ass starting to appear.
Zatoichi works around a formula that is quite effective, a seemingly helpless man getting involved in local politics and gangsters. He's treated badly, as are others, particularly a female who is either in love with him, in peril, or both. There might be a conflicted Ronin, not ready to do the boss's dirty work. Near the end, Zatoichi always gets a chance to sneer at his opponents before the swords flash.
Being able to keep the formula fresh was a slick trick. Near the end, Tatsuya Nakadai, Toshiro Mifune, and even the One Armed Swordsman on loan from the Shaw Brothers in Hong Kong show up to keep things interesting. When the series finally stopped in 1972, Katsu Productions kept going, exploring even more exploitative territory. Katsu himself was the bad boy of Japanese stardom at the time, often drunk, hanging with real Yakuza.
Katsu jumped right into a trio of films about Hanzo the Razor, a police detective in turn-of-the century Japan with, shall we say, unorthodox interrogation methods. Uber-masculine to the point of unwitting self-parody, the movies go beyond simple political un-correctness into transgressive behavior. On first viewing, it was hard to know if I should cringe or laugh. I found myself doing both. Definitely not for the faint of heart, the rape-centric series was a harbinger of things to come in Japanese cinema during the next fifteen years.
Simultaneously, Katsu Production started on another series, this one starring Shintaro's brother Tomisaburo Wakayai. 'Lone Wolf and Cub' ran five series and is now considered classic; the contrast between the tender relationship of father and child to that of the mass slaughter they inflict on their enemies somehow works. The movies are stylized, the violence over-the-top. The characters and plots were based on a manga, another new trend emerging in Japan.
'Lone Wolf and Cub' hit the jackpot late in the day. Six years after they stopped filming, a low-budget American producer bought the first two films, cut out all the plot, wrote a new sword & sorcery script, and overdubbed the results into the cult classic 'Shogun Assassin'. The violence is relentlessly over-the-top. Arterial spray hits the screen like a Jackson Pollock painting. It became a grindhouse classic, playing ghetto fleapits to shocked and delighted audiences.
Before that happened, actors such as Tetsuro Tamba had to try and keep their dignity in trash like 1973's 'Bohachi Bushido: Code of the Forgotten Eight'. Well made, it is a non-stop orgy of topless women and headless men. Both Mifune and Nakadai refused to stoop this low, preferring television work instead. The Japanese public was shifting to yakuza films, and the studios were happy to oblige.
The basic plot device was similar behind both samurai and yakuza films; warriors were talked into bloody action by a boss to preserve the honor of the group. Later, it is revealed that the boss is double dealing behind everyone's back, not worthy of the honor he requested. Vengeance results, coming up from the ranks. A synopsis that brief works for any of the 'Battles Without Honor or Humanity' yakuza movies as well as 'Samurai Rebellion' or 'Goyokin'.
Yakuza films were easier to shoot, costing the studios less. They were shot on the busy metropolis streets of modern Japan, requiring no wigs or costumes. There was also a period, from 1880 to 1920, when samurai /yakuza overlap. Many of the more exploitative movies were set in that time period. It also was not uncommon for a samurai picture to feature a gun in the plot; the classic 'Yojimbo' does that. In reverse, yakuza films can feature sword play.
There was a curious string of 'feminist' samurai films, growing out the Red Peony series in the late 1960s, about a tattooed prostitute (proving yakuza connections) during transition times who isn't afraid to swing a knife around. They were popular enough to spawn a series of eight films by Shintoho, one of the post-war labor dispute off springs of mega-studio Toho. Everyone is tatted up but it is a period yakuza film with an action female lead. See what I mean by a confusing delineation?
Toho wanted to get into the market, since there were great successes with the Girl Boss Guerilla, Stray Cat Rock and Female Scorpion #751 series doing good business. Cleaning up the storyline, they produced two Lady Snowblood films, classy female vengeance films. There was a brief run of these around the world, from 'Thriller: A Cruel Story in Scandinavia to 'I Spit on your Grave' in America. Lady Snowblood is the most dignified of the group.
The same can't be said of the twin sexploitation/samurai films, 'Sex & Fury' and 'Female Yakuza Story'. As over-the-top as Hanzo the Razor, these two, featuring a heavily tattooed Reiko Ike, are so transgressive to become transcendent. 'Sex & Fury' even co-stars Danish bombshell Christina Lindberg, making it the pinnacle of intercontinental sexploitation. The action in these movies is excellent as well, especially the scene where a naked, bathing Reiko Ike must jump out of the tub, wearing only a sword in her hand, turning into sushi forty armed men at night while snow falls, is the most jaw-dropping scene in all Japanese cinema.
Chiba hit international paydirt with grindhouse favorite 'The Street Fighter', becoming Japan's answer to Bruce Lee. He had a good screen presence, reminiscent of Toshiro Mifune in physicality and intensity. He starred in a series of films as Jubei Yagyu, complete with eye patch and top knot, starting in 1978. He swaggers through 'The Shogun's Samurai', an intricate tale of clam revenge that found parts for Mifune as well as Tetsuro Tamba. Make no mistake, this is Sonny Chiba's film.
Sonny also developed a team of stunt players, both men and women, some of whom went on to individual fame, such as Hiroyuki Sanada, star of 'The Twilight Samurai' from 2002. Most important was Etsuko Shiomi, the only real female in all Asian cinema capable of standing up to the physicality of someone like Pam Greer. Etsuko, known as Sue, may have been the only Japanese leading actress of the 1970s to never do a nude scene. She didn't need to, her stunt work in movies like 'Sister Street Fighter' was so convincing.
By 'The Legend of the Eight Samurai' in 1983, the plot was aimed at kiddies, more for the 'Star Wars' crowd than true Japanese cinema fans. They never stopped making Samurai films, just like they have never stopped making Westerns in Hollywood. But they are infrequent, special product reflecting more on past glories or revisionist history. Katsu revived Zatoichi for one last movie in 1989, Sonny Chiba was featured in the 'Kill Bill' films. It was fun while it lasted.
The DVD revolution at the turn of the millennium found an audience looking for extreme entertainment. Japanese cinema, samurai pictures in particular, delivered as promised, with great transgressive action impossible to do in today's politically correct world. Gold standard companies like the Criterion Collection carry a great selection of samurai films, not just from the classic period, but spreading into 'Lady Snowblood' and even the 'Lone Wolf & Club' series. Seems like yesterday's trash has a habit of becoming today's art.
Great research assistance in this article came from a number of books. I tried not to talk about films that I don't personally own. Chris D.'s 'Outlaw Masters of Japanese Cinema' and "Gun & Sword: An Encyclopedia of Japanese Gangster Films 1955-1980' were especially useful, as was 'Behind the Pink Curtain' by Jasper Sharp. For an overview of Japanese film, I would recommend Taschen's 'Japanese Cinema' by Stuart Galbraith IV.
No comments:
Post a Comment