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The Taiga Drama - Japan's Link To the Future Through the Past

2009-03-01T22:44:00.000-08:00

Perhaps one of the most ambitious television projects
taken on by any network in the world is NHK’s Taiga Drama. The program consists of 52 weekly 45 minute episodes to air every Saturday night of the year. The stories are re-tellings or embellishments of historical legend or fact, ranging in eras from the prehistoric to the modern. Most are about influential people who helped shape the history of Japan as it has come to be. The production value of these series are extremely high, and the actors and writer often well known. They have become one of the showcases of NHK’s programming.

The problem: in recent years viewership has been way down. The youth of the nation just don’t seem to be interested in history, legend and lore. So a couple runs back, at the risk of alienating some of its older viewers, NHK began to redesign the series, for a younger hipper audience.

The first series in the experiment was the extremely successful Shin Sen Gumi, a story about the last days of the Shogun and a group of Ronin who supported his rule. The lead role was portrayed by Katori Shingo, of the wildly popular musical group SMAP. The series catapulted him to acting stardom, and several other new, young talent also left with their careers in high gear.

The following year saw ratings tank when NHK returned to the older format for "Yoshitsune", so the following year featured the beautiful Nakama Yukie as a strong wife of a Samurai in Komyo Ga Tsuji. Last year's Atsu Hime, starring a very young Miyazaki Aoi as the venerable wife of the Shogun Tokugawa Iesada. The story is probably more myth than fact, and based on a very recent novel Tenshou-in Atsuhime (1984). While the premise of a strong intelligent wife of the Shogun calling the shots from behind the castle walls is unlikely, it makes for compelling programming and last years Drama numbers were up once again.

This year we're just being introduced to Tenchijin, a story of a young Vassal of Uesugi Kagekatsu, Naoe Kanetsugu played by Tsumabuki Satoshi. NHK states that the purpose of this drama is to remind the Japanese people of love of country, a concept that is widely believed to have drifted away from the thoughts of Japan's younger generations.

The concept of the Taiga Drama has been a staple of NHK's Saturday programming since 1963 when the first drama, Hana No Shougai aired. Plans for the upcoming year 2010 are to produce Ryoma-Den.

Heavenly Forest (Tada, kimi wo aishiteru)

2009-02-01T14:05:00.000-08:00

Directed By (Shinjo Takehiko
Japan 2006

Starring
Aoi Miyazaki
Tamaki Hiroshi
Kuroki Meisa
Written by:
Takuji Ichikawa (novel)
Kenji Bando (screenplay)

It’s the formula that has defined a generation of Japanese storytellers: love and death. The theme is older than that, of course love and death were commonly paired in stories as old as the tragedies of Greece, and it’s the theme for the most retold story of love known to mankind – Romeo and Juliet. So what wrong with love and death? Nothing, as long as it’s masterfully told. Japan has a long history of sensitivity to the genre, but unfortunately recent trends in Japanese films of Love and Death aren’t exactly going to win Cannes.

Heavenly Forest is not masterfully told, although I hasten to add that it’s told far better than so many films and TV programs of this genre in recent years. The formula tends to be riddled with attempts to manipulate the audience, and leaps of plot to serve the desired, usually melodramatic manipulations. There’s a book of tricks on every modern Japanese filmmaker’s shelf called “How To Keep Your Audience In Tears Long Enough to Hide the Holes in your Script.” Fortunately while Heavenly Forest is no masterpiece, director Shinjo Takehiko has been given a strong enough script by screenwriter Bando Kenji, that he doesn’t have to refer to that book very often.

The story is of two misfits who meet as freshmen in college. Both are afflicted by an illness that make each self conscious and unable to function socially. In short they bond at first due to loneliness, but shortly into their friendship they realize the similarities in their expressive, artistic personalities.

The boy, Makoto (played by Tamaki Hiroshi), however, is gradually accepted by a popular group of students that includes the girl he has fallen for, Miyuki (Kuroki Meisa). The group begrudgingly accepts hime, but his partner Shizuru (Miyazaki Aoi) is left completely out of the group.

The story meanders through the lives of Makoto, Miyuki and Shizuru, and the complicated relationship that develops throughout college. The performances, especially that of Aoi Miyasaki are the most compelling aspects of this youth oriented film. In addition, director Shinjo, using the beauty and tranquility of Shizuru and Makoto’s secret forest as a base, has crafted a comfortable and easygoing film. The images are well composed and shot and the action feels natural on camera.

The movie meanders through the lives and complicated relationships that develop (OK they’re not that complicated) enough so that by the time the story really progresses the physical ailments that Makoto and Shizuru suffer from are mostly forgotten. However, Shinjo occasionally reminds us that they still lurk just under the surface of these young lives. And it is those physical defects that close the somewhat contrived, but still touching story.

It’s worth seeing. If you loved John Hughes in the 80’s you’re the right market, but even a skeptic lie me was able to suspend my disbelief enough to feel a warmth for these people, and even a few tears.

Sabu

2009-01-01T12:14:00.000-08:00

Directed By Miike Takashi
Japan, 2002

Starring
Tatsuya Fujiwara ... Eiji
Satoshi Tsumabuki ... Sabu
Tomoko Tabata ... Onobu
Kazue Fukiishi ... Osue

Writers:
Hiroshi Takeyama (screenplay)
Shugoro Yamamoto (novel)

Since the 1999 horror shocker Audition was released internationally, Miike Takashi has made a name for himself in the horror genre. Outside of Japan he is probably best known for graphic horror and shock films, but back home he does everything from quirky comedies (with a gruesome underbelly) such as The Happiness of the Katakuris, TV dramas and idol movies. He’s one of the most prolific directors in Japan now. His filmography looks like that of a schizophrenic or maybe just a person who can’t say “no” to anything. But is he actually a good director? Not everyone would agree.

Sabu was a project that Miike took on for Nagoya TV in 2002. It’s a period piece – edo Japan – the last days of the Samurai class. But this film isn’t about Samurai. It features Tsumabuki Satoshi (Sabu) and Fujiwara Tatsuya (Eiji) as two orphans who grow up in poverty as apprentices learning a trade. Eiji, the more attractive and more rebellious of the two gets incarcerated for a crime for which he has been framed. Throughout his incarceration he considers revenge on his supposed framers and attempts to separate himself from his dearest friend Sabu. Sabu, eternally loyal, will not allow Eiji to alienate himself from his friends or previous life. The two struggle with each other and with themselves to do what they believe to be right.

The film ends with a nice twist, and the story is quite clever and engaging. It comes originally from a novel by Yamamoto Shugoro, and while I’ve not read the novel I can say already that this is a case of “the book was better than the movie”. Sure screenwriter Takeyama Hiroshi left giant holes in the characters, and forgot to elaborate on crucial motivations. But it’s worse than that. The film rolls along like it has a flat tire. The rhythm is choppy one minute and lethargic the next. Miike seems anxious – like he can’t settle down into the genre or into this story. It’s almost as if he doesn’t quite know himself what story he is trying to tell. I have no idea if this book is available in English, but if it is, it’s probably a pretty good read.

Osoushiki (The Funeral)

2008-04-01T22:01:00.000-07:00

Directed By Itami Juzo
Japan, 1984

Starring
Yamazaki Tsutomu
Miyamoto Nobuko
Sugai Kin
Otaki Hideji

It was a hit in Japan, taking five Japanese Academy awards including best picture, director and actor (Tsutomu Yamazaki) in 1984. Now 24 years after this debut from the would-be internationally famous writer/director of Tampopo and A Taxing Woman, the film still stands as one of his best. Itami had already spent 24 years in the business as an actor when Osoushiki was released. At 51 he was a rookie director, but he'd already amassed a god deal of film savvy from those acting years. As a result Osoushiki does not feel like a freshman film. Ironically, Tampopo, his remarkable follow up illustrates more technical and directorial snafus than this film. It's not perfect, but it is classic Japanese cinema in a time when classic Japanese cinema had all but disappeared. In fact during the 1980's and 90's almost all Japanese cinema disappeared.

It's the story of the death of a man who was neither popular nor important, who had done more in his life to alienate people than to endure himself to them. Even his wife was seemingly never the object of his love. Suddenly on the very day he received a clean bill of health from the doctor in Tokyo. He suffers the heart attack that would take his life. The family = his daughter and son-in-law, his brother, his nephews, and neighbors descend upon the house in the days leading up to the funeral.

Much like a funeral in real life Itami's funeral is a completely surreal experience. Elders discuss and argue over the proper protocol while children play near the corpse nearly oblivious to the somberness of the situation. The old man's wife and daughter struggle with the emotions and lack of emotion they are experiencing while the son-in-law fights off his mistress who has come to the wake incognito, gotten drunk and nearly betrayed the relationship. He ends up sleeping with her in the woods, and while his wife never discovers her, we know that she has known all along.

Later that evening family, old friends and neighbors get so drunk they can barely walk. The son-in-law joins them bringing out a particularly fine sake for everyone to enjoy. It hardly seems that anyone has noticed the old man is dead at all until the next morning, when the mother gives an unexpected speech. She did love him after all we learn, and somehow as we learn of her love, and perhaps as the people in the room first learn of it we somehow carry a very strong hope out of the theater. This movie gives us permission to hope that even though we are idiots and fools, users and parasites, that someone may actually love us.
Even the daughter and the son-in-law look at each other with love, and although we can never know what happens after the curtain closes, I can say there was reason to believe that they lived with each other's love ever after.

Well maybe that a little too positive of a read from this otherwise cynical and often humorous social satire. But, as he illustrated in Tampopo, Itami likes happy endings, and throughout his social commentary one has the feeling that he still believes that humans are basically good creatures. Many filmmakers might be less forgiving, but Itami doesn't want us to leave the theater hating each other. Despite all that we are, there may even be a reason to love each other. That's how I felt when the credits rolled.

Solntse (The Sun)

2008-01-01T15:01:00.000-08:00

Directed By Aleksandr Sokurov
Russia 2005
(with Financing From Italy, France and Switzerland)

Starring
Ogata Issey
Robert Dawson

Hirohito is one of the most notorious men of the 20th century. In the eyes of many outside Japan he stands with Hitler, Stalin and Mao as one of the most evil dictators to live. Millions died on his behalf. Enemies of the Empire died for their opposition to his nation's imperialism, and the soldiers and civilians of Japan died for the sake of his very name. According to Shinto, Japan's national religion, the Emperor not human but "Kami" - that is to say a god - whose existence exactly parallels the existence of the nation itself. Theologically speaking the Emperor is the embodiment of the nation. He is the soil, the people, the culture and the spirit of the islands both now and throughout her history. That is why so many fought to such extremes in the Second World War. It was not for Hirohito, the man who sat in the palace. It was for the God - the Showa Emperor - and the family of gods charged with protecting the nation.

Many foreigners in the 20th century might not understand this about how the Emperor is viewed in Japan. Perhaps some Catholics who believe that the communion bread and wine become the actual flesh and blood of Christ can fathom this intervention of divinity. Catholic doctrine states that the Eucharist is not merely a symbol of the body of Christ. Through divinity the bread and wine become the body and blood. Similarly the Emperor is not merely a symbol of Japan, but the divine embodiment of Japan. The suffering of the Emperor is the suffering of Japan and the exultation of the Emperor is Japan's glory.

As enemies we were encouraged to believe the man, Hirohito, to be a deranged, power hungry tyrant; an embodiment of evil ruthless to his enemies and perhaps even more ruthless toward those of his people who sought to disagree. This man relished the sadism of the massacre in Nanking and the Bhutan death march. He alone ordered the genocide of the Chinese and vivisections of the American prisoners of war. Behind this demon the inhuman Japanese flashed their bloodthirsty teeth. Perhaps that is the best-known image of Hirohito in the West.

Theories exist both inside and out of Japan as to Hirohito's actual involvement in the war. Some believe that he had no control over a nation kidnapped by extremists, and that he operated as merely a figurehead for the war effort. Others insist he was active in the war effort. There may be no more controversial individual throughout the 20th century, and few men continue to be as mysterious in death as in life. Aleksandr Sokurov's "The Sun" offers a courageous perspective on Hirohito in the days leading up to his declaration that the Emperor is not a God. It is an interesting perspective of a man whose idiosyncrasies of behavior reveal a gentle heart, and a troubled soul. Widely known in Japan but unknown in the West, Hirohito suffered from a form of retardation common in royal families. Sokurov and Actor Ogata Issey accentuate this ailment in ways painful for most Japanese to see, and surprising for most Westerners.

Forced by the American Supreme Commander General Douglas MacArthur to renounce his divinity, Hirohito struggles with his responsibility to his nation trying to determine what is best for his beloved people. Even his identity becomes unclear to himself, as Sokurov's Japan grows darker and mistier throughout the film. Finally realizing that there is no alternative Hirohito records the proclamation.

Ogata portrays the simplicity of the man along with his complexities and his weaknesses. It's a portrayal that was shocking in both East and West. Reactions in Japan ranged from surprise to outrage. Ogata's name became synonymous with controversy and he spent time blacklisted from the Japanese film industry. The unwritten rule of Japanese cinema is that the Emperor is portrayed only when necessary, almost always in shadow and never in anything that might be considered a bad light. Certainly Ogata's accentuation of the human characteristics of Hirohito - the frailness, the social awkwardness and the weakness - he portrayed are clearly violate this rule. In fact in the eyes of many Ogata's portrayal was as much a mockery of the Showa emperor as an honest interpretation. As Christians may balk at a human portrayal of Christ, many Japanese felt Ogata's Hirohito was sacrilegious.

Perhaps as surprising was the contrast between the gentle, even kind Hirohito of Sokurov and Ogata and that of the deranged dictator who commanded kamikazes and civilian troops into battle. Was this man so gentle, so harmless, and so preoccupied with science and nature? How could such a man have controlled a war so brutal? Those are the sorts of questions Westerners may ask of this Hirohito. Did he know what was going on? Was he kept so far from the war that news of it arrived to him as it did the rest of Japan?

Sokurov doesn't attempt to guess where Hirohito was during the war, although as he makes his way to the underground briefing rooms of his home, some may insist that he was far away from the strategy tables. The Hirohito we see has already lost the war. His advisers and military chiefs are gone and he is again alone in leading the nation.

Much of what Sokurov does in this film is courageous and intriguing, and in keeping with his sense of image, the film is photographed beautifully. In contrast to the title, the film is dark, misty, and shadowy. The colors are washed out. There is no color left in Japan anymore. However, Sokurov was unable to resist the temptation to make a political film. Perhaps his treatment of the American General MacArthur and the meetings with the Emperor and the American are the downfall of the film. Like Hirohito, this is not the MacArthur we learned about in history, but unlike Ogata's rich portrayal of the controversial man, Robert Dawson's two dimensional interpretation of a cardboard MacArthur leads us to doubt the authenticity of the entire movie. While I am convinced most Japanese reviewers panned the film for it's unrealistic portrayal of Hirohito, I must point out a similar weakness in the character of MacArthur. After seeing this movie we have no idea who MacArthur is, and because of that we can't possibly understand the relationship between the two men. Without knowing that relationship, the film relegates itself to the character sketch of a single man. We have lost the contrast and the struggle that provides the story. In the end I'm not sure whether what Sokurov is saying is truth.