7.30.2005
donald richie, a hundred years of japanese film
donald richie's a hundred years of japanese film is an informative, insightful, and occasionally frustrating read...
informative-- first and foremost-- because richie has been writing about japan (and its films in particular) since the end of world war II, and is perhaps the most influential western thinker concerned with the cinema of the country. accordingly, his accessible and linear account is filled with interesting details. for example, one finds that the earliest silent cinema in japan was traditionally accompanied by a benshi-- a physically present narrarator who's task was to explain what was going on in the on-screen images. in this way (and in several others as well), japanese audiences were introduced to a cinema more directly linked to theatre from the start. richie explores the tensions between film and theatre; how the distinctions generated by such tensions lead to certain sensibilities, and how these sensibilities are interpreted/reconfigured in the west. richie proposes a useful dichotomy between representational film-making (meaning, more or less, the standard of "realism" most typical in the west) and presentational style, which is less rooted in creating a believeable environment, and (in japan, at any rate) builds upon the aesthetic and ideological history of kabuki theatre, bunraku puppetry and things of that sort.
richie is immensely insightful in his ability to distinguish between different approachs to film, and the historical precedents that allow for them. the thesis of the book-- and it is the sort of book that has one-- is that much of japanese film history is built upon the changing nature of japanese identity itself. thus, the concern of many great directors is with a preservation of what it might mean to be japanese in the face of western influence (or eventually--and more specifically-- following WWII and the american occupation). in his anlysis of certain key directors, the dialogue is immensely multi-dimensional. in the work of yasujiro ozu, for example, we see the radicality of his static, understated camerawork alongside the conservative nature of his storylines (and the artistic liberty afforded to him, by the studio system, accordingly). we see the reaction against his style and ideology (in the work of "new wave" figures like nagisa oshima and yasuzo masamura), as well as the eventual return of his influence (in the work of hirokazu kore-eda-- someone i need to see more by-- among others). richie's approach to the films is refreshingly democratic as well. a well-known classic like akira kurosawa's seven samurai occupies essentially the same amount of space as less-hyped wonders like mikio naruse's when a woman ascends the stairs (which is probably my favorite rental-promted-by-the-book thus far).
richie is also frustrating at times, on account of his canonical, modernist inclinations. he remains cheerful enough to the generation following kurosawa, mizoguchi, ozu, etc.-- providing affectionate accounts of the genre subversions of masamura or seijun suzuki, for example. richie likes his art with a capital "A", and thus there is no mention of the pulp samourai films of kenji misumi or the art porn freakouts of koji wakamatsu. which is fair enough, i guess (though, for my money, kurosawa's the hidden fortress isn't any more deep and meaningful than misumi's lone wolf and cub films-- and the latter are waaay more entertaining-- but i digress...). richie's inclinations become more problematic when he arrives at current japanese cinema, wherein the lines between genre, camp, sincerity and innovation become increasingly blurry.
richie is needlessly brutal, for example, to the films of takeshi kitano. kitano, in richie's view, becomes the emblem of assimilated western cool. it's an all too familiar knee-jerk reaction, wherein kitano becomes the eastern equivalent to quentin tarantino. this stereotype-- which drives me crazy-- appears to be predicated exclusively on kitano's taste in suits. first off, tarantino isn't even the right fit for the "strawman" of callous, hateful postmodernism he's made out to be (jackie brown, anyone?)... and certain richie-approved classics like branded to kill are as surface-level hip and flashy as kitano at his coolest... but what's really discouraging is the sense that richie fails to connect at a certain point. his sensibility is too foreign to that of the currently emerging film audience. he can't get past the shoot-outs in kitano to swallow the odd ennui i found so moving in sonatine, for example. his disgust with the idiocy of mainstream culture is so great it prevents him from discovering how the crapola is reconfigured. filmmakers like kitano, kiyoshi kurosawa and (though i'm less thrilled with him personally) even takashi miike, work through the crassness of mainstream culture rather than around it. and they occasionally reach the same heights as those who came before them. but richie puts his blinders on.
still, i emerge from the book a more informed viewer. it's great read, and has happily introduced me to a number of wonderful films/filmmakers, which i will be sure to bore you with posts about in the future.
informative-- first and foremost-- because richie has been writing about japan (and its films in particular) since the end of world war II, and is perhaps the most influential western thinker concerned with the cinema of the country. accordingly, his accessible and linear account is filled with interesting details. for example, one finds that the earliest silent cinema in japan was traditionally accompanied by a benshi-- a physically present narrarator who's task was to explain what was going on in the on-screen images. in this way (and in several others as well), japanese audiences were introduced to a cinema more directly linked to theatre from the start. richie explores the tensions between film and theatre; how the distinctions generated by such tensions lead to certain sensibilities, and how these sensibilities are interpreted/reconfigured in the west. richie proposes a useful dichotomy between representational film-making (meaning, more or less, the standard of "realism" most typical in the west) and presentational style, which is less rooted in creating a believeable environment, and (in japan, at any rate) builds upon the aesthetic and ideological history of kabuki theatre, bunraku puppetry and things of that sort.
richie is immensely insightful in his ability to distinguish between different approachs to film, and the historical precedents that allow for them. the thesis of the book-- and it is the sort of book that has one-- is that much of japanese film history is built upon the changing nature of japanese identity itself. thus, the concern of many great directors is with a preservation of what it might mean to be japanese in the face of western influence (or eventually--and more specifically-- following WWII and the american occupation). in his anlysis of certain key directors, the dialogue is immensely multi-dimensional. in the work of yasujiro ozu, for example, we see the radicality of his static, understated camerawork alongside the conservative nature of his storylines (and the artistic liberty afforded to him, by the studio system, accordingly). we see the reaction against his style and ideology (in the work of "new wave" figures like nagisa oshima and yasuzo masamura), as well as the eventual return of his influence (in the work of hirokazu kore-eda-- someone i need to see more by-- among others). richie's approach to the films is refreshingly democratic as well. a well-known classic like akira kurosawa's seven samurai occupies essentially the same amount of space as less-hyped wonders like mikio naruse's when a woman ascends the stairs (which is probably my favorite rental-promted-by-the-book thus far).
richie is also frustrating at times, on account of his canonical, modernist inclinations. he remains cheerful enough to the generation following kurosawa, mizoguchi, ozu, etc.-- providing affectionate accounts of the genre subversions of masamura or seijun suzuki, for example. richie likes his art with a capital "A", and thus there is no mention of the pulp samourai films of kenji misumi or the art porn freakouts of koji wakamatsu. which is fair enough, i guess (though, for my money, kurosawa's the hidden fortress isn't any more deep and meaningful than misumi's lone wolf and cub films-- and the latter are waaay more entertaining-- but i digress...). richie's inclinations become more problematic when he arrives at current japanese cinema, wherein the lines between genre, camp, sincerity and innovation become increasingly blurry.
richie is needlessly brutal, for example, to the films of takeshi kitano. kitano, in richie's view, becomes the emblem of assimilated western cool. it's an all too familiar knee-jerk reaction, wherein kitano becomes the eastern equivalent to quentin tarantino. this stereotype-- which drives me crazy-- appears to be predicated exclusively on kitano's taste in suits. first off, tarantino isn't even the right fit for the "strawman" of callous, hateful postmodernism he's made out to be (jackie brown, anyone?)... and certain richie-approved classics like branded to kill are as surface-level hip and flashy as kitano at his coolest... but what's really discouraging is the sense that richie fails to connect at a certain point. his sensibility is too foreign to that of the currently emerging film audience. he can't get past the shoot-outs in kitano to swallow the odd ennui i found so moving in sonatine, for example. his disgust with the idiocy of mainstream culture is so great it prevents him from discovering how the crapola is reconfigured. filmmakers like kitano, kiyoshi kurosawa and (though i'm less thrilled with him personally) even takashi miike, work through the crassness of mainstream culture rather than around it. and they occasionally reach the same heights as those who came before them. but richie puts his blinders on.
still, i emerge from the book a more informed viewer. it's great read, and has happily introduced me to a number of wonderful films/filmmakers, which i will be sure to bore you with posts about in the future.
