Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Yotsuya Kaidan (1959) review





YOTSUYA KAIDAN 1959 (THE YOTSUYA GHOST STORY)

Hasegawa Kazuo (Tamiya Iemon), Nakata Yasuko (Oiwa), Kondo Mieko (Osode), Uraji Yoko, Takamatsu Hideo, Hayashi Naritoshi, Tsurumi Joji

Directed by Misumi Kenji

The Short Version: The same year that Nobuo Nakagawa helmed the most well known film version of Japan's famous ghost tale for Shin Toho, the revered Misumi (SHOGUN ASSASSIN) Kenji directed his own version for Daiei that debuted ahead of the competition. Romantic, tragic, and ultimately haunting in its imagery, Misumi's version is notable for its drastically different interpretation of the usually reprehensible Tamiya Iemon. It takes close to an hour for the horror to arrive, but till then, it's an operatic, twisting, character-driven storyline rife with lust, betrayals, and conspiracies culminating in the required revenge from beyond the grave.


Tamiya Iemon makes a meager living as an umbrella maker with his devoted wife, Oiwa. Content with his lot in life, Oiwa's uncle is dissatisfied the ronin shows no interest in bettering himself. He pushes Iemon to seek a higher post to live like a proper samurai and escape poverty. Iemon resists, stating the government is corrupt, and to attain such a post one will have to take bribes. Following the elder's advice, Iemon follows up on a lead with the hopes of getting a job as a construction manager. He doesn't get it, but on his way back home, he saves a young lady and her servant by fending off some ruffians. The young lady, Oume, the daughter of the businessman who declined his services, becomes smitten with Iemon and desires to become his wife. Unknown to him, an elaborate plan is hatched by various conspirators to get rid of his doting wife and house servant Kohei. Once Oiwa is dead, her ghost returns to avenge herself on those who plotted against her.

Misumi Kenji remains well known internationally for SHOGUN ASSASSIN (1980), a re-edited version of two of Toho's brutal six film LONE WOLF AND CUB series from the early 1970s. Over the years some of his other films have gained a modicum of overseas recognition, but nothing to the level of the sanguinary spectacle offered in the mystical, over the top samurai series. Misumi directed the first in the ZATOICHI series and some of the best of the subsequent installments; the SLEEPY EYES OF DEATH series; and even big budget epics of fantasy with the likes of BUDDHA (1962) and RETURN OF DAIMAJIN (1966). Just before his death in 1975, he directed a suitable swan song in THE LAST SAMURAI (1974). Going back early in his career, Misumi counted Japan's most famous ghost story among his resume.

Yotsuya Kaidan was an extremely popular kabuki play written in 1825 by Tsuruya Nanboku IV. Brought to life on film and television over two dozen times, the various versions tinker with details of the original play. Nakagawa's adaptation is among the most faithful while Misumi's film is possibly the most radically altered of the bunch.


Yahiro Fuji's screenplay eliminates certain character arcs written in the original play and substitutes with some others. Even more noticeable is the transformation of Iemon from a vile murderer into a sympathetic, even heroic character. His vision of the tale's central antagonist is a striking dichotomy to Iemon's depiction in Nobuo Nakagawa's picture from the same year. Nakagawa, Japan's preeminent master of Japanese horror, is the name that comes to mind when this popular ghost story is brought up, but Misumi's interpretation isn't without merits of its own. Since both films emerged the same year, a comparison of the two is too good to pass up.

Oume lets Iemon know she wishes to take him away from his wife.

As already stated, the handling of the Iemon character greatly deviates from the source. He remains a ronin in both films, but for Misumi's purposes, Iemon possesses a degree of integrity, and a lot of stubbornness. Unlike Nakagawa's film, Misumi's Iemon is already married to Oiwa at the beginning. A great deal of time is spent on their relationship, building it till Hasegawa's Iemon is seduced by Oume, a wealthy businessman's daughter; even then there's reluctance on his part. In the other picture, Shigeru Amachi's Iemon is a sadistic murderer right from the start--falling in line with the character's depiction in the play.


The element of horror is the foundation of the source material. Its usage is like night and day between the two pictures. Misumi takes nearly an hour before delivering the famous sequence wherein Oiwa discovers she has been poisoned. In this reviewers opinion, this iconic sequence is handled better by Misumi Kenji. The remaining 20 minutes centers on the revenge. Without giving anything away, this too, plays out differently.

Moreover, a handful of additional characters are added with their own sub-plots that intertwine with the main story. Far more convoluted than Nakagawa's picture, these extra characterizations are utilized to keep this version of Iemon a victim of circumstance considering he's both used and framed by those he thinks are his friends. The motivations of some in the original source are changed as well. Love, lust, retribution, and redemption are the focal points of Misumi's film.

Nakagawa, on the other hand, relies little on exposition, launching into the horror at the 40 minute mark. The main focus till then is in making Iemon as despicable as possible. The pacing is quicker in Nakagawa's movie, and suits his stark treatment of the material.

 
The use of a comb is an important plot device that has different origins in both films, but has the same resonance during the crucial moment where Oiwa, whose face becomes deformed as a result of poisoning, desperately tries to make herself beautiful again, but only succeeds in exacerbating her predicament. Since Iemon isn't totally the human monster of the play, the comb is his gift to her in Misumi's film. In the Nakagawa version the comb has been handed down by her mother.

Whereas Nakagawa focuses on making the audience hate Amachi's Iemon, the themes of sex and success are given great emphasis in Misumi's film. These are immersive qualities that stand out from Nakagawa's movie, which has a smaller cast of characters, and nearly everyone is guilty of some crime. 

 
First, the success: Unlike the play, this Tamiya Iemon initially desires nothing--although the people around him do. He's perfectly fine making minimal wages and spending his free time fishing. The irony is that Iemon fears seeking a high-ranking post because of corruption; yet he, himself, is eventually corrupted--not by money, but by flesh. Oiwa, his wife, wishes he'd aspire for something else, but she, like him, is satisfied where she is--in this case, being the dutiful wife. Her sister, Osode, is the exact opposite, as is her fiance Yomoshichi. Both work hard so that they can have a comfortable future together. Yomoshichi works long hours in the hopes of owning his own shop. And Osode... well, that boils over into the sex.... 

Naosuke confesses his crime to Osode, the object of his obsession.
 
Kohei (middle) is framed by two of Iemon's "friends".
Oume desires Iemon, and doesn't care that he's already married. After being goaded into the situation, Iemon, who seems unenthusiastic about improving his long-term prospects, will have success handed to him by marrying Oume; only he wishes no harm come to Oiwa. Naosuke, a deceptive friend of Iemon, lusts after Osode. She works in a brothel, but refuses to sleep with the clientele as she is betrothed to Yomoshichi. Back at the Tamiya household, their servant, Kohei, secretly desires Oiwa. Naosuke and Oume's servant, Omaki, conspire, with others, to both frame Kohei for adultery and to kill Iemon's wife--but not to better his standing, but to improve their own for reasons of sex or success.

Additionally, the scores of the two films differ. Suzuki Seiichi's music for YOTSUYA KAIDEN is a rhythmic, lovelorn score that relies on melody in a way that Watanabe Michiaki's cues (in Nakagawa's TOKAIDO YOTSUYA KAIDEN) do not. Watanabe's traditional Japanese style is accentuated by sounds clearly meant to evoke unease and unsettle the viewer.


Misumi's version haunted movie theaters on July 1st, 1959, while Nakagawa's spooked screens two weeks later on the 14th. The latter is easily the more sadistic of the two, although that's not to say Misumi doesn't manage some grim imagery of his own. By using horror to accentuate the dramatic aspects of the script, Misumi avoids basking in an overabundance of sadism. This might be an unattractive proposition to those expecting a more nihilistic approach from the man behind the goriest samurai saga of all time, but Misumi and his crew manage to make the few scenes of bloodletting have more impact with the reliance on plot.

Considering the lasting impact of Nakagawa's vision of the classic ghost tale, Misumi Kenji's take on the material, in some ways, surpasses his colleague's abrasively horrific slant. Both films feature bloody violence, only Nakagawa set out to make a straight horror movie while Misumi settled for romanticized horror in the vein of Terence Fisher. Putting them side by side, it's understandable why Nakagawa's has stood the test of time while Misumi's picture remains in relative obscurity.

Director Misumi gets strong performances out of his cast, and, in lieu of the story's kabuki origins, his film resembles one with many interiors enhanced by some fabulous lighting effects. Nakagawa utilized fewer shots in the studio, taking advantage of some sprawling fields and waterfalls.

 
Hasegawa Kazuo makes an unusual Iemon, bearing little of the amoral qualities of the character as originally written. His rendition isn't much of a bad guy other than an occasional disinterest, even coldness towards his wife. Once her face is disfigured, Iemon casts her aside in a fit of disgust. His biggest crime is losing interest in Oiwa over a free ride and a new bride. Hasegawa is brooding in the role, managing to build a lot of sympathy for the character even though he loses his way towards the end. This version of Iemon may not be evil, but he surrounds himself with evil individuals. One of Japan's most popular actors at that time, the material was unusual for him, and possibly tailored for his tastes.

Hasegawa and Isuzu Yamada-TSURUHACHI & TSURUJIRO (1938)
Raised in, and acting in Kabuki theater at five years old, Hasegawa Kazuo's film career began in the late 1920s. Under the stage name of Hayashi Chojiro, he enjoyed a successful, approximate ten year run for the Shochiku film production company. In 1937, an incident took place that was instrumental in the transformation of the actors career trajectory, and to Hayashi Chojiro reverting to his real name, Hasegawa Kazuo. That same year, the actor moved on to Toho Eiga Company, reportedly enamored with their higher production standard and modernized equipment. The story goes that the Shochiku brass didn't like their top star jumping ship to the competition. During the filming of his first Toho production (the abandoned Genkuro Yoshitsune), Hasegawa was attacked, and his face slashed by an unknown assailant. Viewed as a betrayal, it was long thought that his previous employers at Shochiku were responsible. After a stay in hospital, the actor returned to Toho to star in a dream project of his, TOJURO'S LOVE (1938). He then went to Daiei Studios where he starred in 17 films in the ZENIGATA HEIJI series (18 if you count his last film for Toho in 1949), based on the popular detective novels by Nomura Kodo. Hasegawa retired from the limelight in 1963, returning to the stage where he started at five years of age. He died at 76 years of age in 1984. An award winning actor, Hasegawa received one last award, posthumously, the People's Honor Award.


Overshadowed by Nobuo Nakagawa's classic film, Misumi Kenji's picture is memorable in its own right, particularly for turning Iemon into a tragic hero. Horror fans may not find much to interest them here, but those with an appreciation for vintage Japanese horror and the famous kabuki play will.

You can buy an English subtitled version of this film HERE.

Sunday, August 2, 2015

The Love Butcher (1975) review


THE LOVE BUTCHER 1975


Erik Stern (Caleb/Lester), Kay Neer (Florence Leonard), Jeremiah Beecher (Russell Wilson), Richard Kennedy (Captain Donald Stark), Robin Sherwood (Sheila), Eve Mac (Pat)

Directed by Mikel Angel and Don Jones

"I'm the great male Adonis of the universe!"

The Short Version: This 70s misogynist schlock is about a deeply disturbed, necrophilic gardener with a penchant for pruning the female population of an LA suburb. Wretchedly entertaining from start to finish, the film is held together by its lead, Erik Stern, stoically uttering some of the dumbest dialog imaginable in a showstopping, multi-character portrayal of Shatnerian proportions. Equal parts Norman Bates and Robert Louis Stevenson's famous Jekyll and Hyde story, this tale of the psycho with the alternating psyche is in the same class as THE CENTERFOLD GIRLS (1974) and THE SWINGING BARMAIDS (1975); only THE LOVE BUTCHER is that one clown destined to sit in the corner wearing a dunce cap. That's a recommendation, by the way.


Caleb, a deranged caretaker with a split personality, kills beautiful women living in a Los Angeles suburb using a variety of disguises and garden tools.

The tastelessly titled THE LOVE BUTCHER is fun for all the wrong reasons. Other than a few shining moments, it's uniformly awful in nearly every department; yet somehow manages, seemingly by accident, to come out a polished turd. For instance, the gore is of the "offscreen technician squirts blood" variety. However, the quirky music of porn composer Richard Hieronymus gives the impression we're watching an intentionally terrible movie. The use of cartoonish cues, and even Beethoven, adds a blackly humorous layer, turning this malnourished movie into a digestible experience. Regarding porn, with its $40,000 budget, THE LOVE BUTCHER could easily have been an X rated venture. 

Shot in 2.35:1widescreen to give it more ample production value, the filmmakers do very little with the wider open space. Most everything is dead centered. There are a few infrequently inspired moments, but something else keeps the picture interesting; and that one factor that makes this movie of lasting importance is Erik Stern.


While a life preserver couldn't keep the film from drowning in a sea of mediocrity, the performance of Erik Stern manages to keep the movie afloat despite being given the dumbest lines this side of an Ed Wood monologue. He even gets a catchphrase, "But of course!" Stern didn't do a great deal afterward, but his deliriously excessive tour de force as the title boucherie de l'amour alludes to great things that never materialized. Co-director Angel's script (with assist by Jim Evergreen) contains a bumper crop of hackneyed dialog for Stern, and he spouts if off with such straight-faced conviction, one can't help but be in awe of him--especially when the necrophilic nutcase is uttering diatribes like, "You're going to make love to me. Satiate me. Fill me with nymphoid satisfaction. Drain me. And then you'll lie at the foot of my alter. And adore my godly beauty."

A comparable performance would be Dyanne Thorne as Ilsa, the psycho-sexual Nazi Fraulein of a popular series of exploitation pictures. Both are wildly over the top and campy, only Erik Stern's role is far more complicated, yet, unfortunately, his career never took off in the cult film canon as Thorne's did with her infamous interpretation of the nasty Nazi. 


Stilted dialog aside, the writers have given Stern a psychologically complex character to chew on for 84 minutes. It's the film's winning hand where most everything else fails. Stern is essaying a dual role of sorts, with Caleb and Lester evoking both Jekyll and Hyde and Norman Bates. The former in that Caleb is docile and ugly while Lester is handsome and a smooth talker. Caleb is a hunched over, balding, overalls-wearing gimp who wears what looks like magnifying glasses for bifocals. When Caleb kills, he does so as Lester, a suave, muscular Casanova wearing a toupee who sweet talks the ladies--making house calls as something of a Love Doctor--but once the doors close he becomes the Love Butcher. 

Just like in the same years THE SWINGING BARMAIDS (1975), we're dealing with another guy who can take his women hot or cold, if you get my meaning. That film, along with others dealing with psycho killers, are superior to THE LOVE BUTCHER, but few have the ability to blur the line between outright kitsch and refinement.

 
The two persona's are constantly at war with one another, too. In actuality, there's more to this relationship than a mere split personality--Caleb and Lester were brothers. Some of the best scenes are those where Caleb is arguing with Lester, who is represented by a Styrofoam mannequin. When Caleb is Lester (actually, Lester is the one who is alive), he has a wide array of personalities aside from assuming the identity of his sibling--these range from a Texas cowboy, to a Hispanic record salesman; and Stern is extraordinarily good at all of them.

It's in these scenes of a battle of wills where the PSYCHO (1960) influence is noticeable. When Caleb/Lester is talking to himself, we never see him talking in the other voice. There's a detachment between the two that's reflective of Norman's conversations with his "mother". A deep seated animosity is shared between the two families--Norman with his mother and Caleb/Lester with his brother. That the two are in fact brothers isn't a big secret, but the final revelation at the very end is another comparison to Bates.


There's one other actor who makes an impression in THE LOVE BUTCHER. Richard Kennedy (billed as Edward Roehm) is seemingly in competition with Stark as to who can say the ridiculous dialog in the most serious, or most bombastic fashion; such as this pearl Kennedy says with a straight face when his character figures out a defining trait of the killer.... "Whoever did this is weird. Not just sick, but a real weirdo." Kennedy, as Captain Stark, is constantly yelling his lines with gnashing teeth, repeating similar affectations of a certain iconic police officer played by Clint Eastwood. Just as Erik Stern is incredible as the literal lady-killer, so is Kennedy as the no-budget Harry Callahan. A veteran of a handful of Drive-in movies, Kennedy (who had more than one pseudonym) was a memorable character actor who could really express himself as villains or comic relief. He was the General who begged Ilsa to piss on him in ILSA, SHE-WOLF OF THE SS (1975) and gets scalped in the Indian revenge picture, JOHNNY FIRECLOUD (1975).

For all of Stark's anxiety and bluster, he can't seem to put two and two together in what amounts to another scripting blunder. It takes him and his police force long enough to come to the conclusion that all the murders have occurred in the same neighborhood, but never seem to make the gardening tool connection. Towards the end we hear a radio broadcast that Stark has been removed from the case due to incompetency! Even more hair-brained is Russell, listening to this on the radio, figures it all out by recalling two different people referring to Caleb the gardener as a weirdo.



With little else to recommend it, the rewatch value of THE LOVE BUTCHER is due predominantly to Erik Stern. His multi-cultural character arcs are a marvel to watch in action. Richard Kennedy gives him some good camp competition in the interim. The gore is weak, but the misogynistic mean streak is strong, even with the chintzy moments generously spread throughout. Your tolerance for camp will figure into whether you'll be able to handle something as budget barren and technically inadequate as this. The Drive-in crowd will be the most appreciative by a visit from THE LOVE BUTCHER (1975).

This review is representative of the Code Red DVD. Extras and specs: 16x9 anamorphic 2.35:1 widescreen; audio commentary with director Don Jones.
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