Program Your Own Japanese Summer Film Festival

Every summer, when the temperatures rise, I find myself retreating to the cool depths of the basement at day's end. Invariably, my wife and I are drawn to revisit favourite movies--old friends that we just can't help seeing again and again, unlike the more disposable fare we tend to watch the other nine months of the year. A funny thing happened last summer though. After we had selected and watched a few movies, we noticed that every one had at least one actor or director from the previous movie connecting it to the next one--a single degree of separation as it were. Even given the smaller pool of actors and directors in the Japanese film industry, we were surprised by the coincidence, probably because each movie had to fit our amorphous definition of a good summer movie.

Since then, I've tried to sort out the criteria we have been intuitively adhering to over the years. For one thing, a summer movie has to be entertaining, just not in a blockbuster special effects sort of way. It can't be too dark, but by no means should it be fluffy. If the movie itself is set in summer and the heat just seems to seep through the screen, that's a welcome, but not a mandatory bonus. If these definitions sound appealing, here's a list to get you started on your summer film festival.

Spoiler Alert: No details of the endings are given away. Aside from introductions to characters and premises, you should be able to read these capsule reviews without spoiling a first viewing.

Floating Weeds (1959)

Cinema giant Yasujiro Ozu remade one of his own movies to tremendous effect with Floating Weeds. It opens with a failing acting troupe on the verge of disbandment riding a ferry to a small town untouched by war or modernity at the height of summer. You can feel the lethargy of the townspeople and the actors and understand their need for respite by any means, be it hackneyed drama, sake, or flirtation. Small comic touches draw the viewer as the troupe master's ulterior motive for bringing the show to this particular town is revealed. The consequences of his self serving decision take a toll on his personal and professional relationships as he slowly loses control over both. Ganjiro Nakamura's ability to play a role where he bullies women while still maintaining sympathy for his flawed character is masterful. All around, Floating Weeds is a mature work that never shies away from the sadness and conflicts found in daily life, but still leaves the audience satisfied at the end, appreciating the resilience of human beings.

Revenge of a Kabuki Actor (1963)

Connections to Floating Weeds: Ganjiro Nakamura goes from loveable but abusive father figure to controlling patriarch. Ayako Wakao goes from capricious actress to lovesick daughter doomed by her father's political machinations.

Ichikawa Kon blurs the lines between the stage and the screen to unfold a well-designed revenge plot. Kazuo Hasegawa effortlessly handles dual roles as an onnagata (female impersonator in kabuki) and a dashing Robin Hood thief figure. Yamitaro the thief gets involved in the story from time to time, but largely serves as the audience's surrogate, commenting on the story as he tries to solve the mystery why Yukinojo wants revenge and how she plans to do it. The stylized recreation of Edo period life will transport you to another world for a couple hours and help you forget just how hot it really is outside.


Zatoichi's Vengeance (1966)
Connection to Revenge of a Kabuki Actor: Popular B movie actor Shintaro Katsu has a small but memorable role in Revenge as a debauched priest with a heart of gold. As any fan of Zatoichi can tell you, it wasn't too big a departure from his starring role as Zatoichi, the blind swordsman-masseur-gambler-yakuza with a heart of gold.

This was the first film in the series I saw, and it was made about half way through its run. It has all the requisite formula elements: a corrupt yakuza gang (as opposed to the ideal yakuza gangs that live by a code and don't ruin the towns they control), a beautiful woman attracted to Zatoichi who can't act on her feelings, a ronin nemesis itching to test his swordsmanship, and an orphan who needs protecting. What raises this film above the others is the presence of a blind biwa player who questions Zatoichi's inclination to solve problems through violence. Even though Ichi-san is left with no choice but to fight or die in the end, the subplot about how children imitate violent role models is handled in a satisfying manner. (For a Zatoichi movie set in summer, try The Fugitive.)

Yojimbo (1961)

Connection to Zatoichi's Vengeance: The two movies share a cinematographer, Kazuo Miyagawa. It's a more tenuous connection, I admit, but it allows me to pair a couple action movies and transition to another genre after Yojimbo.

Until I saw Yojimbo, I never understood how people could see a movie just because of one of the actors in it. For me, the quality of a movie was determined by the sum of its parts, not any one individual. Then I saw Toshiro Mifune give a performance of a lifetime in Yojimbo. His presence dominates the movie from start to finish without overwhelming it. All the actors orbit his sun whether they resist or not. Tatsuya Nakadai does well to stand up to him as a psychopathic gunslinger, but as the film leads to its inevitable conclusion, we have no qualms going along for the ride as good prevails over evil and it doesn't feel the least bit cliched. The peak of the Kurosawa-Mifune collaboration.

Mifune's bravura performance aside, the film skillfully blends action and comedy as the camera casts an unyielding light on corruption in its various forms and how it ruins the lives of people trying to lead an honest life. I read once somewhere that Yojimbo can be interpreted as Kurosawa's take on the plight of an existential-humanist trying to do good in a world without meaning, and I couldn't agree more. As entertaining as this film is, there's more going on below the surface, and it rewards repeated viewings.

Kwaidan (1964)

Connections to Yojimbo: Kurosawa favourite, Takashi Shimura, brings his emotive eyes to the role of a wise priest after playing a lustful sake brewer in Yojimbo. Tatsuya Nakadai also gets a chance to play the good guy as a doting husband and father who gets involved with the wrong woman.

Masaki Kobayashi was not as prolific as Kurosawa, but his best films rival and in some cases exceed (see Hara Kiri aka Seppuku) the latter's in ambition and execution. I have spilled more virtual ink analyzing the achievement of Kwaidan elsewhere in this blog than any other topic, so I won't repeat myself here. Rather, I will focus on what makes Kwaidan such an excellent summer movie. Whereas in North America we associate ghost stories with October and Halloween, in Japan it's summer, and I'm not talking about fun campfire stories. In Japan, ghost stories weren't designed to horrify, but to chill. Not only did a shiver down the spine signal a successful ghost story, but it was a sure way to cool the listener or viewer in the heat of summer. As such, it is a genre with numerous entries for the kabuki stage and the silver screen. I haven't seen many examples, but so far only one has risen above the genre, and it's Kwaidan. If you allow yourself to get lost in the story, I guarantee you that at least three of the four episodes will make your spine tingle.

As an added bonus, there is an establishing shot in "The Tale of Earless Hoichi" where the cicadas trill outside the temple and you can feel yourself stuck in the middle of a humid August day. Kobayashi is not the only Japanese director to use a cicada as shorthand for summer, but he did it best.

The End of Summer (1961)

Connections to Kwaidan: Michiko Aratama, the wronged wife in "Kurokami", plays the eldest daughter of Ganjiro Nakamura (the publisher from "In a Cup of Tea") as we go full circle by bookending our festival with Ozu films. Aratama has a terrific scene where she berates her irresponsible father who responds by acting like a scolded child. Haruko Sugimura, the writer's wife from "In a Cup of Tea," plays Nakamura's sharp-tongued sister.

While the title might make this movie seem like an obvious choice to end with, consider that a better translation would read The Autumn of the Kohayagawa Family, and the poignancy of this film is more fully suggested. The cinematography is lovely, and the settings in the older parts of Osaka and Kyoto evoke the time in late summer where we are still suffering from the heat, but are afraid to wish for respite because we know autumn is coming soon. Nakamura plays a carefree patriarch committed to living life to the fullest even as the family business teeters on the edge of bankruptcy. To say more might risk spoiling the movie, but suffice it to say the film offers a moving meditation on life. It offers no revelatory secrets, but an opportunity for reflection that each viewer can resolve in his or her own way.

While it might not be possible for you to view all six movies in the suggested order, make time for each if you can. Fit them in when the sun's at its hottest, and so much the better. If you have your own summer favourites from Japan, I'd love to hear them in the comments section.

Travis Belrose is the author of The Samurai Poet, a work of historical fiction set in 17th century Japan. Learn more here.