Reviews

A village is raided by marauding soldiers. Villagers flee to simply escape with their lives, but two of them hold greater ambitions of riches and battle honor and take great risks to reach them. But will it bring them what they wish for?

Unfortunately, in Ugetsu the two lead male characters are buffoonish and hard to sympathize with as a viewer. If their motivations had of been portrayed more subtly, perhaps the film would have been more relatable. The women in this film --the two wives and the spirit lady--receive less screen time, but are the far more interesting characters!

After having watched ten or so wonderful Jidaigeki films, period films set in samurai-era Japan, I can report that I find those directed by Mizoguchi less compelling than those by Kurosawa, Yamada, and Kobayashi. In comparison, I find Mizoguchi's characters often lack dynamism and the tales are overly didactic.

A samurai wishes for nothing more than to farm and care for his family, but is trapped in an honor culture that demands that he fight and kill. He, his family, and his love Tomoe are so warmly portrayed that I could not help myself from wishing deeply for their success...

I saw the film as a microcosm of the suffering wrought by the samurai honor culture at large. Auxiliary events to the main plot, such as the corpses of children floating down the river, hint at a greater calamity. However, as they say, one death is a tragedy and ten thousand are a statistic, so the "smallness" of this film actually works to its advantage.

Imagine being the double of a legendary warlord. You must match his appearance, act natural in front of his soldiers and concubines, and ride his unruly horse. This is the challenge faced by the shadow, or Kagemusha, of the lord Takeda Shingen.

As the shadow grows into his role, you realize that appearances can deceive. This tale is told in wonderful scenes wherein the shadow must ad lib to fool the lord's grandson, the assembled lords of the clan, and enemy spies. This is the central theme of the film, but it works on another level as well.

As a viewer who is largely unfamiliar with Japanese history, I did not know the ending of this historical drama as a Japanese viewer would. As a result, I was also deceived by this plotline, expecting the central tension to be about a shadow wielding great power in unexpected ways. Instead, the film takes another turn to stay true to the history.

This film has a wonderful central premise and gorgeous cinematography. However, in its efforts to stay faithful to the history it also misses opportunities to bring the character and motivations of the shadow to a satisfying conclusion.

In a popular Japanese parable, the legendary warlord Mori Motonari gave each of his sons a single arrow and instructed them to snap it in half. Then he gave them each three arrows as a bundle, which they were unable to break. The message is clear: divided they will fall, but united they will stand.

In Kurosawa's reimagination, this succession plan takes a dark turn, borrowing from Shakespeare's King Lear. The third son uses his knee to snap the bundle of three arrows, exposing the wishful thinking of his father's lesson. What ensues is an epic film of human ambition, cruelty, and suffering.

The cinematography switches between sweeping vistas of grasslands, to the inner chamber of castles, to pitched battles. The samurai dress and armor are majestic in vivid reds, yellows, and blue. An epic film worthy of three legends, Motonari, Shakespeare, and Kurosawa.

After the battle of Sekigahara, Japan is so peaceful, there is not even any wind to rattle the leaves. Samurai have been abandoned by their lords and left to eke out a meagre living on their own. One of these penniless ronin samurai asks for assistance at a samurai house that remains rich in the martial tradition.

In this tale, the plot lead me towards one conclusion, before gradually but steadily send me in the other direction. This masterful misdirection only makes the film's violent and vengeful conclusion all the more spectacular. I will never again view samurai honor culture in the same light.

Set in medieval Japan, this tale follows the children of a nobleman through their fall from nobility. Despite great hardships and cruelty they remain true to their father's message to have mercy for all.

Despite this being a plot-driven film, Mizoguchi lets the camera slowly pan across and linger on the forest, water, and villages. Scenes are expertly crafted--in a scene of violence, the act is captured only through sound and by seeing the faces of the horrified witnesses.

Unfortunately, the character development leaves something be desired. The motivations of the main characters is mostly clear. However, the characters are all either saints or devils, with no nuance. There's only a single case of character development in the entire film.

Despite this, I grew to appreciate this film more after reading the IMDB review by rooprect, which points out how women are the strongest characters in the film, a narrative which goes against the times in which this film was set and those in which Mizoguchi was doing his work.

True to Wes Anderson's filmmaking, this movie is a visual feast. Shots are perfectly framed, rich with details--is that another sinister cat crest?--and take wonderful angles. For a film set in a garbage dump, this is a remarkable achievement.

On the other hand, the plot is dull and predictable. The overall premise is absurd--a city ruled by a cat mafia--but the ending is clear by about 15 minutes in. For example, the 'dramatic' fight scenes to move the story along are lackluster--the film probably would have been better without these 'obligatory' action scenes. It felt cringe to cast a white girl to be a primary heroine for the Japanese people. There are some delightfully quirky moments that made me chuckle along the way, but also fewer than in some of Wes Anderson's best work.