Re: The Human Condition (Masaki Kobayashi, 1959-1961)
Posted: Thu Mar 16, 2023 3:29 pm
I can check later in the day on my discs.
Mr Sausage wrote: Thu Mar 16, 2023 11:53 pm There are no Chinese actors in the movie, or even Chinese speakers. All the Chinese characters are played by Japanese actors speaking Mandarin phonetically. I don't even speak a Chinese language, and I could tell immediately that something was off.
I have just finished watching this part (Part 1 of Road to Eternity or Part 3 of the series).Mr Sausage wrote: Thu Mar 16, 2023 11:14 pm Road to Eternity: Part 1
Spoiler
In a grim irony, Nakadai, one-time prison reformer, now finds himself jailed and subject to the cruelties and abuses he had sought to ameliorate. And that's the point the section drives at: that the camp and the barracks are two names for the same thing. One of the benefits of long-term story-telling like this is that you can pattern more widely, create parallels and echoes across a greater expanse of narrative. By itself, this section is a good, if familiar, indictment of military training. As part of the whole, we can see how much the barracks recapitulates what we saw in the work camp. This is where the brilliance starts to show, in the larger structural organization that can create this layered social critique. For instance, it is bad enough to see the men routinely beaten and humiliated for the smallest perceived slight, but worse when we remember every time that same thing happened to the prisoners and camp workers. The impression is that Imperial Japan treated its soldiers, the very men it depended on to secure its aims and for whom it was presumably governing the country, no differently than it treated its lowest and most exploitable social stratum. The movie also makes an implicit critique that functions as short hand: we are given little access to the functioning of the army brass, the decision makers; but because we have spent so much time with the decision makers at the camp, the parallels let us know that the brass works no differently, and with no less greed, selfishness, and pettiness.
The movie continues the strongest element of No Greater Love, the careful attention to the social structure of its chosen microcosm. Like the workers' camp, the barracks feels like a living entity, crammed with people and structured around a tangle of hierarchies, motivations, and duties that aren't easily reduced. The narrative feels less leaden, too: there are fewer scenes of intoned speeches, blunt moralizings, or lame romantic conversations. Almost every scene is fraught in some way or another, with violent or absurd intrusions peppering most interactions, and smaller conversations always shadowed by someone's hostile eyes. It allows Kobayashi to play to his strengths, ie. his gift for action. The opening scene sets the atmosphere perfectly: the men roused from bed without warning and beaten, one-by-one, without reason or recourse. Such will be the rest of the movie. It becomes so absurd that, by the end, Nakadai is being screamed at even for daring even to walk a couple steps out of bed without permission--and this in a hospital! Usually hospitals in war films serve as a kind of reprieve, but even here the prison-feel persists.
One of the darker aspects is the fact that Nakadai's resolve in the face of evil, his willingness to stand up for virtue, is, apparently, exactly what the brass like in a soldier, and they keep trying to promote him despite his utter distaste for everything he sees. Somehow, trying to be a decent man in spite of his training seems to be turning him into precisely what the training intends--an utter absurdity the film thankfully doesn't belabour.
I enjoyed myself here. The film felt less overtly didactic, more willing to make connections and draw parallels to make its points. It's still a guilt-sodden, self-flagellating story, but it's not as caught up in ideas of duty and virtue, or even ideas at all. It's a much smaller, more focused story. I look forward to the second part.
Just a couple of thoughts in addition to knives’ responses: one of the reasons Kaji is given such a hard time by the Chinese prisoners is that he set himself up as someone who would help them. He worsens their misery by giving them false hope, he makes them feel like they’ve been duped by their oppressors (which, via Kaji, they effectively have), and in the process he diverts their energy from other strategies that might actually have helped them escape. I didn’t think he was especially culpable, but I also understood why people were hurling insults (and rocks) at him by the end of Part 2.Mr Sausage wrote:As expected, Nakadai's humanistic ideals are brought to a crisis when an equivocal escape attempt results in a barbarous scene of execution. But the situation is weird, because while it's set up as "will Nakadai do the right thing?", it's not a situation where he bears any special guilt. He wasn't there and he made none of the decisions. Indeed, he tries his panicked best to avoid the execution. But the film puts him through the moral wringer anyway, with all sorts calling him a murderer or implying the state of his soul as at risk. And all to the least complicit man at the mine. That the moral situation is resolved by Nakadai begging the army to stop, something he had been doing all along...I'm not sure what personal moral step that is, or what that resolves besides convincing the prisoners he is on their side with his willingness to risk his life for them. I guess it just proves how far he's willing to go for his ideals. A weird situation all around, born of the movie's need to keep its main character pure while still forcing him to endure a moral reckoning, complete with physical suffering.
I often found myself thinking of workplace experiences I’ve had, especially times when I thought I was acting on principle but ended up accomplishing nothing, or even making things worse. Not to downplay the specificity of what the film is saying about war, but it is also about ideas and power structures that operate in peacetime, in any context.ballmouse wrote:Look at the news regarding backlash of remote work or loss of minimum wage workers from the workforce and the proliferation of the r/antiwork subreddt (don't ask - I just happen to get shared a number of posts there). My own workplaces has similar conundrums regarding treatment of workers from management.
The film is obviously very restrained about this stuff (and Philip Kemp mentions that the undressing scene was censored on the original release) but I did get a sense of physical intimacy between Kaji and Michiko before this, partly from the bathing scenes earlier on, but also from the way they looked forward to spending time together and going on a trip. The undressing scene is a reminder of all that lost person-to-person interaction, those simple activities that meant so much, and it adds a poignancy to many other moments when Kaji has some kind of connection (physical or otherwise) with another person – even when he’s trying to save his hated comrade from drowning in the swamp, or near the end when he reaches out pitifully for a scrap of food. Seeing Michiko’s naked humanity is, I think, meant to help him maintain contact with humanity, to remember to see other people as vulnerable individuals rather than as hollow uniforms.ballmouse wrote:[Kaji’s] request for his wife to undress under moonlight [...] seems out of character from what I've seen. In no instance before has he shown any desire to indulge in his wife physically. Perhaps the army had broken him down? His wife also breaks down after fulfilling the request, seemingly with the realization she has nothing to offer her husband. I'm not sure if this was the realization that she is not physically beautiful or that her husband stooping to physical effects shows that he doesn't see anything else of use from her or just some melodramatic throwaway line that would have been "womanly" for her to say.
Yes, he retreats into fantasies of returning home at the end, and dies believing he is reunited with Michiko. In dramatic terms, once we hear this reunion play out on the soundtrack, as a dream, we know that it won’t happen in real life.ballmouse wrote:Given the surrealism and constant panging for his wife, I had the understanding that dreams are what keep men sane in an insane world. There is a division between the real, physical world and the mental one. Peace in the physical world cannot be achieved physically or in reality. The conflicts within society make that impossible. Dreams and our own mental satisfaction are what we can control.
Mr Sausage wrote: Thu Mar 09, 2023 2:14 pmSpoiler
Random observations:
-The movie is handsomely shot. The scenes at the camp are full of an impressive pictorialism: lines of men snaking up and down the hills; masses of workers lining the walls of the mines; windswept plains full of grasses extending to the horizon. And all shot in scope with elegant camera movements, long takes, and deep focus. The movie looks terrific. Perhaps too terrific: there's a level of sweat and grime the movie declines to show. But its visual beauties never feel inappropriate.
Sloper wrote: Fri Mar 10, 2023 2:54 pmSpoiler
For one thing, we spend a lot of time watching the characters’ faces, and for all the obviousness of the dialogue I think the acting can be really complex and subtle at times. Nakadai’s character is frustrating at times, and there is something a bit tiresome about this ‘type’ – the principled young man fighting the system. But the frequent close-ups of Nakadai (reacting to whatever fresh horror he’s been confronted with) go beyond mere righteous outrage. You can see from tiny gestures, like twitching eyelids or shifts in his facial muscles, that he’s struggling to process his feelings, bottling them up, becoming (or trying to become) more hardened in order to deal with the trauma, perhaps reflecting on his own callousness and self-absorption. This gives some weight to the various confrontations where people question his values, motives, or basic humanity – every choice he makes about how to deal with this job, or even about how to process it in his own mind, feels consequential, and there’s never a simple ‘right’ choice.
Mr Sausage wrote: Mon Mar 13, 2023 5:04 pm No Greater Love: Part 2
Spoiler
As expected, Nakadai's humanistic ideals are brought to a crisis when an equivocal escape attempt results in a barbarous scene of execution. But the situation is weird, because while it's set up as "will Nakadai do the right thing?", it's not a situation where he bears any special guilt. He wasn't there and he made none of the decisions. Indeed, he tries his panicked best to avoid the execution. But the film puts him through the moral wringer anyway, with all sorts calling him a murderer or implying the state of his soul as at risk. And all to the least complicit man at the mine. That the moral situation is resolved by Nakadai begging the army to stop, something he had been doing all along...I'm not sure what personal moral step that is, or what that resolves besides convincing the prisoners he is on their side with his willingness to risk his life for them. I guess it just proves how far he's willing to go for his ideals. A weird situation all around, born of the movie's need to keep its main character pure while still forcing him to endure a moral reckoning, complete with physical suffering.
Which brings me to the main weakness of the two sections: the movie is exploring moral simplicities. The movie does a terrific job representing the impossible complexities of the camp as a social and political entity, and yet it's mostly uninterested in those complexities as a moral situation. Unlike, say, Imamura, who would've explored the effect this messy social context had on human behaviour, Kobayashi prefers simple, classical oppositions: human and inhuman; murderer and not; duty and not. Nakadai's right hand man puts it more gently. He says, while drunk, that Nakadai is "straddling a fundamental contradiction and trying to justify it", but in a more sober light declares that Nakadai is "willing to pay the fare [of humanism] no matter how high." The point is plain: this is all or nothing; the labour camp is antithetical to humanism on all fronts; you can either support it or resist it.
knives wrote: Mon Mar 13, 2023 6:54 pmSpoiler
There’s no real discovery to be had and Kobayashi as a resulting isn’t a researcher nor an observer.