The Criterion Collection distributes classic foreign and independent films on home video, but the company is removing all of its movies from Netflix streaming by the end of 2011. Instant Cue suggests Criterion titles still available on Netflix by focusing on a different filmmaker each week.
Akira Kurosawa is widely considered the greatest Japanese filmmaker of all time. But for years, the films of other directors did not have the same amount of exposure as Seven Samurai or Ran. Recently the family dramas of Yasujiro Ozu have become widely available, with 17 of his movies now available on DVD thanks to the Criterion Collection. Unfortunately, the filmography of Kenji Mizoguchi is still largely untapped by the digital home video market.
Monday marked the 113th anniversary of Mizoguchi’s birth. “Quite simply one of the greatest of filmmakers,” according to film legend Jean-Luc Godard, Mizoguchi is seemingly forgotten by all but academics and film nerds in the U.S. He directed approximately 75 films, but predating serious preservation efforts, many of his early films are lost, and only six are on DVD in the U.S. The available films are masterfully poetic, demonstrating Mizoguchi’s acute understanding of human suffering matched by few directors. Known for his long takes and camera movements, Mizoguchi uses the language of cinema to examine class and sexual politics in his haunting tale Ugetsu (1953).
“One of the greatest of all films” according to Roger Ebert, Ugetsu is a tale of greed and ghosts set during the feudal wars of 16th century Japan. Central character Genjuro passionately manufactures pots with the assistance of his devoted wife, Miyagi. With a young son, the family finds itself shattered by the devastation of civil war. Leaving his wife and son behind to sell the fruits of his labor, Genjuro finds himself seduced by the ghost of Lady Wakasa, a noblewoman with a lavish palace. The family of a fellow peasant is similarly broken up by the chaos of the times. Caught up in his quest to become a samurai, the farmer Tobei essentially forgets about his wife Ohama, who is eventually left to make a living as a prostitute.
Mizoguchi uses the film to question the highly stratified social structure of Japanese society. The characters Genjuro and Tobei become so wrapped up in progress and wealth that they forget their families and ignore the value of their own daily lives. “Money is everything,” Genjuro explains. “Without it life is hard, and hope dies.” Tobei’s delusions of being a samurai are founded on the fact that he is “tired of being poor.” By establishing this sense of dissatisfaction in the first act of the film, Mizoguchi demonstrates how class anxiety in part leads one man to be tempted by dreams of being a warrior and another by the love of a wealthy ghost.
Kurosawa’s films similarly investigate themes of class, but his work is sometimes criticized for its representations of women. Stephen Prince, author of The Warrior’s Camera: The Cinema of Akira Kurosawa, suggests that Kurosawa’s “general lack of interest in [women] should be regarded as a major limitation of his work.” But as seen with Ugetsu, Mizoguchi is deeply interested in women and sexual politics. Although the film can be seen as problematic with its female characters — women who find themselves completely lost without male protectors — there is something more sophisticated at work. Both Miyagi and Ohama reach their tragic fates in part because they submit to the foolish whims of their husbands. They are victims of a society that suggests women must serve their husbands. The stories of these characters do not assert the need for male protectors but instead suggest the failure of a patriarchal order.
Mizoguchi tells the story and explores these themes with his gorgeous cinematography. While the beauty of Japanese director Ozu’s films is in the compositions of his unmoving camera, the poetry of Mizoguchi’s work is evident in the careful, thoughtful and seductive manner in which his camera moves. In a sequence with Lady Wakasa seducing Genjuro, the camera pans left at the end of the different scenes, and the image subtly dissolves into a pan at a different location. Going from the interior of the palace to the springs at night to the shore in daylight, Mizoguchi imbues his images with a sensuous flow. Just as Lady Wakasa might be the projection of Genjuro’s inner desires, Mizoguchi presents the images as dream-like hallucinations.
But perhaps the most memorable use of the camera movement is the single uninterrupted take in which Miyagi is murdered by starving, defeated soldiers with her crying son on her back. By capturing all of the events in a single take, the film forces viewers to focus on the tragedy of the scene. Because Ugetsu is a 1953 production, the murder is not bloody or graphic, but the unflinching camera makes the experience unsettling and incredibly violent. There are supernatural elements throughout this film, yet in its exploration of social themes and use of the camera, Ugetsu is characterized by the brutal honesty of Italian neorealist cinema.
When I first wanted to watch Ugetsu seven years ago, I had to buy a VHS on Amazon. Now that the film is available online for streaming, I sincerely hope it will be seen by more movie lovers. Kurosawa is certainly not undeserving of being considered the greatest Japanese filmmaker, but it is shortsighted to make such an assertion without also exploring the work of Ozu and Mizoguchi. Although I have unveiled most of the major plot points of Ugetsu, the beauty of the film is not simply in the story but in the way the story is told. This timeless film explores social injustices in a seductive and lyrical manner, comparable to a song lamenting the human condition.
You can sign on to your Netflix account now to stream Ugetsu. Yasujiro Ozu’s Tokyo Story is also available for instant viewing.