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Story of a Prostitute



Volunteering as a “comfort womanâ€

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Why isn't this listed on the Criterion Coming Soon page?

AMB wrote:Why isn't this listed on the Criterion Coming Soon page?

http://www.criterionforum.org/forum/vie ... php?t=1992

MORE SUZUKI! YEAH!!!!!

Of the dozen or so films by Suzuki I've seen, I think this one is my favorite. I'm really pleased to see both this and Gate of Flesh in the collection, not just because it means more Suzuki, but because they're so different from the "standard" Criterion release. With all the talk about the cult sub-brand, I was half expecting them to avoid releases like this in the future, but I'm happy to be proved wrong.

What really amazes me about this film is how Suzuki never stops experimenting with different filmmaking techniques. There are some really interesting effects used in this film that he never touched before or after, such as the use of slow motion to draw out physical violence and anguish (predating Peckinpah btw), the discontinuities between sound and image, and that weird scene when the Adjutant seems to come apart like a piece of paper, which was probably accomplished through some crude form of stop animation. Other auteurs generally seem to finely hone a specific style over their careers, slowly boiling down their form to a singular essence, but Suzuki is almost uncontainable in the way he tries out new things with each film. That makes it a little more difficult to look at his filmography the same you would with, say, Ozu, but I think it makes for an interesting change of pace.

This is also an interesting selection because it is one of his more overtly political films. Gate of Flesh is a little more didactic, probably as much as Suzuki is willing to be, but this captures an interesting part of Japanese history, one which is apparently still unresolved to this day. The previous Suzuki films released by Criterion and Home Vision (with the exception of Fighting Elegy don't capture his anit-military sensibilities as much as these two, and I think that mind-frame is one of his most significant traits as a filmmaker. Almost all of his films exhibit some kind of distaste for authority and the safety of social normality, although I think that's something that's often overlooked in favor of the eccentricity of his stlye.

Amazon have it for pre-order for July 26th

- New, restored high-definition digital transfer

- Exclusive new video interviews with director Seijun Suzuki, production designer Takeo Kimura, and film critic Tadao Sato

- New essay by film critic David Chute

- Original theatrical trailer

- New and improved English subtitle translation

- More!

Andre Jurieu wrote: More!

There's more? That's a first for a Suzuki Criterion. Actually, it might just refer to the inclusion of production stills like on the Gate of Flesh disc.

EDIT: Can anyone find the typo on this page? I'm sure they'll catch it pretty quick.

Looks pretty good overall

I'm sort of surprised to see Sato as part of the interview. I can see his ideas about feminisuto fitting in with this film and Gate of Flesh, but I gather those theories have become quite unpopular in most circles. For those who are unfamiliar with feminisuto, here's an excerpt:

The image of a woman suffering uncomplainingly can imbue us with admiration for a virtuous existence almost beyond our reach, rich in courage. One can idealize her rather than merely pity her, and this can lead to what I call the "worship of womanhood", a special Japanese brand of feminism.

This was actually said in relation to Mizoguchi's films, although, possible political incorrectness aside, it can fit along with these two Suzuki films as well.

I'm pleased to see an essay by Chute as well. I really enjoyed his contributions to Branded to Thrill.

Yeah missing a "T". He must of got excited when typing it.

After viewing Gate of Flesh (and knowing that it is widely considered one of Suzukis best works) I was not expecting much from Story of a Prostitute. Maybe these low expectations can explain why I was so goddamn impressed with it. This may be one of the most beautifully filmed black and white films I have ever seen, there are so many great shots. The woman running across the battlefield as explosions light up the night sky was particularly striking. The more I see of Suzuki the more I become convinced that he should have gotten the recognition he gets now forty years ago.

Man, Suzuki had a hard-on with Mizoguchi's name all over it during the making of this film. Sadly, his utter lack of narrative grasp slowly squeezes, bit by bit, all the life out of an excellent, potentially devastating script. It starts off superbly, with a beautifully sketched setup and a brutal initiation for Harumi into the camp. Sadly, Suzuki's inability to see past his desire for visual eccentricity means almost none of the shots connect, swiftly eliminating dramatic build and tension in scene after scene after scene. Sometimes all this tomfoolery is successful and rather witty - the literal tearing up of the adjutant, for example - and sometimes not - the deflating freeze-frame montage during the tragic finale.

This varied inventiveness of his camerawork does not, alas, extend to his treatment of actors. Yumiko Nogawa must spend 75% of her screen time wailing - there is nothing that woman won't have a major freakout over. It's hardly not to feel sympathy for Mikami, being virtually stalked by Harumi, who screams blue murder whenever he leaves her sight. It's interminable. Not that her obsession over him is in any way accountable. Tamio Kawaji just stands there blankly except on rare occasions when bulges his eyes, inhales sharply through his nose and hits someone, usually Harumi. Their non-existant chemistry makes the love angle of the film completely mystifying.

I'd be very interested to see the original Escape at Dawn, and it's a pity Criterion didn't do a twofer Lower Depths-style set, seeing as the earlier film is a Toho property and co-scripted by Kurosawa to boot. Oh well - nothing must take away from the untouchable greatness of Suzuki. I shall toast a glass of cyanide to the next six releases.

Does anyone still go into a Suzuki picture for their subtle understanding of film narrative? As far as I can tell he never chose one script himself and, increasingly, defied them throughout his career. I see Suzuki as a more fun, higher energy version of Goddard; where Goddard was stuck rebelling against mainly old fashion filmic techniques, Suzuki rebelled against whatever he got. Unfettered energy and creativity applied to stories that had been done and done before. For example, the story for Gate of Flesh more or less expresses the same sentiments as The Yakuza Papers, and countless other post-Hiroshima films I'm sure, but that's the least interesting thing about it. Maybe I attach too much significance to dialing a phone with one's foot [Branded to Kill] but with so many films which simply go through the motions--however brilliantly--the spark of creativity permeates his oeuvre mad crazy. I'm clearly biased and thus willingly overlook his misses but the hits hit hard and often.

And acting-wise, this is a B-picture. Would anyone want to see a Fuller picture with good acting? Or a Bresson?

Keep em comin', Criterion. I'll toast em with Jolt or... straight lemon extract.

Doctor Sunshine wrote:

Does anyone still go into a Suzuki picture for their subtle understanding of film narrative? As far as I can tell he never chose one script himself and, increasingly, defied them throughout his career. I see Suzuki as a more fun, higher energy version of Goddard; where Goddard was stuck rebelling against mainly old fashion filmic techniques, Suzuki rebelled against whatever he got. Unfettered energy and creativity applied to stories that had been done and done before. For example, the story for Gate of Flesh more or less expresses the same sentiments as The Yakuza Papers, and countless other post-Hiroshima films I'm sure, but that's the least interesting thing about it. Maybe I attach too much significance to dialing a phone with one's foot [Branded to Kill] but with so many films which simply go through the motions--however brilliantly--the spark of creativity permeates his oeuvre mad crazy. I'm clearly biased and thus willingly overlook his misses but the hits hit hard and often.

And acting-wise, this is a B-picture. Would anyone want to see a Fuller picture with good acting? Or a Bresson?

Keep em comin', Criterion. I'll toast em with Jolt or... straight lemon extract.

Amen.

I rented this one, thinking it might change my mind about Suzuki; having seen all the prior releases on CC except for Branded to Kill, and finding them all hard to sit through.
So I rented Story of a Prostitute, judging by the buzz, I thought this might be the one to finally convert me. It started out well, looking to be more than just eye candy for once, but just fell apart from there imo.
Out of all of his films I've seen so far, I think this one tried hardest to be taken as a serious, more emotional drama, but there was nothing there for me. Another case of style over substance - and the same goes for Gate of Flesh (rented both of them). Visually fantastic - beautiful b&w compositions in Story, and gorgeous colours in Gate.
I guess it's just the fact that there's been so many releases in the Collection, that I expect a different experience to what I get. I understand that maybe I am looking for too much, but I see his films as spectacular B-grade only. I respect the visual flair, and they are all quite visually stunning, but let me just say that I'm glad I only rented them.
Oh well, it looks like I'll never understand Suzuki.

Word.

Watched this last night and was very impressed. I've enjoyed all of the other Suzukis I've seen, to various degrees, but this seems to me the best so far. I go along with the common complaint that he celebrates wild form at the expense of substance (never more extravagantly and entertainingly than with Branded to Kill), and that makes it hard for me to consider him a director of the same calibre as Oshima or Imamura.

In this film, however, there is a strong, steely core that grounds the stylistic flourishes. It's not the emotions of the surface narrative (which are indeed rather arbitrary and rote), but the unflinching anti-militarism of the whole thing. Here and in Fighting Elegy, Suzuki tackles issues of national character head on, with a brutal lack of sentimentality. The second-hand story seems merely an excuse for exploring that theme.

I also feel that in this film Suzuki manages his narrative more effectively than usual, without forsaking his trademark visual delights. There are at least four unforgettable coups de cinema that serve the narrative rather than overwhlem it: that stunning opening sequence in which the man's cries resound over the passing desert landscape; the fantasy image of the adjutant being literally torn to shreds; the gorgeous slow motion fantasy sequence in which Harumi sheds her clothes as she runs from the arms of one lover to another; and those climactic freeze-frames.

What a fantastic film, and maybe my favorite of the director's work. I can hardly believe I connected with it emotionally, or at least as much as I can with Suzuki. In fact, it seems to have a design, in plot and character, abnormally touching for his films. What would be an uninspired script, with stilted dialogue and cliché interactions between characters, is complex and beautiful filmmaking. What could be a boring giri vs. ninjo piece about love and honor mixing badly, turns darkly sensual and somewhat comic. Mikami and Harumi are archetypes turned on their heads, yet retain some sense of real character (again, relative to Suzuki who does seem to prize style over “contentâ€

I know that the thread for this film is old and I am sorry for bringing it up and this is a minor thing but I was watching this great (in my opinion) film the other day and I noticed that it has no end title card. After the last phrase there is just a fade-out.

Is this common in Suzuki's films? I don't have the other Suzuki films so I don't know if all his films end this way. But all my other Japanese films (and I have quite a lot) have the Japanese kanji for "The End" at the end.

Just watched this. I find it hard to think of Suzuki's films in isolation, and it's very hard for me to imagine how each Suzuki film must seem to someone who has never seen his films before (other than Branded to Kill, the first one I saw). He sort of has his own filmmaking language, and the more of his films I see the easier it is to focus on the more compelling aspects of his films and let go of the portions that don't matter so much, even if they are critical elements of most films.

I think it's a mistake to look at his films as a running narrative. Each shot is carefully made and taken as though it were an individual photograph meant to be considered in isolation (consider the highly aestheticized shots of Harumi when Mikami is recovering from his bullet wounds). Suzuki cares so much about each shot and how it conveys the particular emotion he wants at that moment that it completely kills any sort of fluid continuity and that tends to make the acting seem inconsistent and hyper-melodramatic. This isn't to say that he doesn't care about how they fit into the larger film. He's very much building his characters and constructing a larger impression of the setting they're in and the forces that are acting on those characters. It's just that he doesn't seem to care about the stuff in the middle—how scenes will work together, how the narrative flows, how the audience (or his producers) will react, etc. He probably tends to skip transitional sequences (which he takes to an extreme in Branded to Kill) and neglects to set up emotional crescendoes to the climactic scenes because he finds them boring and unnecessary, even if they are essential to the cinematic language that every other filmmaker uses. In other words, he seems to assemble his films based on which shots are his favorites and how they relate to the character or the point he's trying to make.

I think the comparison to Bresson and Fuller are apt, not because they use similar techniques, but because they similarly disregard other important aspects of filmmaking to focus on the ones they're concerned with. Godard and Oshima I think are quite different, because they're approaching from the other end—they're trying to create new cinematic languages almost for its own sake, because that's what interests them, and in both cases I think the results are decidedly mixed. Suzuki, Bresson, and Fuller tend to be much more consistent.

Incidentally, this is the second error I've found in a Criterion essay. While the mistake in the essay for The Taking of Power by Louis XIV (McCabe states that in Rome: Open City "only the two stars, Aldo Fabrizi and Anna Magnani, were professionals") simply indicates a hasty oversight in a side note (Rossellini did tend to favor non-professional actors, it's just that Rome: Open City happens to be an exception), Chute's error is a bit more puzzling. He provides details on the initial setting of the film, but seems confused about the rest of it. Whatever the reason, it's a bit surprising that no one involved in the production of the DVD caught the error

Good B-film from Suzuki, with some amazing shots here and there. I really didn't care much for the story, but there are some really brilliant scenes in this one. The running across the battlefield sequence (also in the trailer), especially.

With all the Suzuki films on the Home Vision label gone out of print, I wonder if Criterion are interested in rereleasing them. I assume since they've gone Blu-ray with all of their titles now, it may be hard for them to warrant a DVD-only mainline release these days.

Wonder when or if Japan will get around to releasing old Nikkatsu B films on Blu-ray