The Next Best Thing to Live Kabuki

"Cinema Kabuki" might sound like a contradiction in terms. How can the experience of live theatre be captured on film in a satisfactory manner? Consider some of the challenges that must be overcome to bring kabuki to the big screen.

1. No hanamichi. One of the best parts of kabuki is the perpindicular stage on the left that allows for dramatic entries and exits to the mainstage, bringing the actors within reach of the audience. Short of mounting a second screen on the wall, the hanamichi experience can simply not be replicated.
2. The food. Sure you can buy popcorn, even coffee and a delicious scone if you're at the right theatre, but nothing can replace the experience of bringing your own bento to snack on throughout the performance.
3. Atmosphere. I have never been in a movie theatre that was as nice as Minamiza or Kabukiza. Sure, the seats are more comfortable at the TIFF Bell Lightbox, but only a traditional theatre gives you the feeling that you just walked through a time portal into the Edo period.

A funny thing happens once the challenges are enumerated. They don't seem that insurmountable after all. In fact, other than the hanamichi issue, it seems like the issue boils down to the same thing any live event faces--from a rock concert to a sports event--being there live and in person beats watching on screen. Nonetheless, once the lights went out and the show started, it soon became clear that filmed kabuki actually offers a couple compensatory advantages that justify the price of admission.

For one thing, there are the subtitles. Usually, I prefer to watch traditional kabuki without translation after reading the plot summary in the program. This would have been a mistake watching a comedy like Hokaibo, because I would have missed out on much of the experience. The play started with some rather broad physical comedy, which was quickly followed by the actors engaging in time travelling word play that had more to do with modern topics and backstage in-jokes than the price of rice in 1784. The translators also did an excellent job providing equivalent quips to the ones being told in Japanese without being constrained by literalism.

A second advantage is the multiple camera angles. Hokaibo was shot with at least six cameras I could count, economically offering the viewer the best seat in the house regardless of where the action was taking place. While director Hiroyuki Nakatani tastefully avoids overusing close-up shots, their occasional use provided a rare chance to see the actor's expressions in key scenes. I was most appreciative of the close-ups after the play ended when the camera zoomed in on lead actor Kanzaburo's face as he looked up at the audience with an expression of such sincere appreciation that it brought a tear to the eye knowing that he passed away less than two months ago.

Perhaps the greatest testament to the effectiveness of Cinema Kabuki is that I had to restrain myself from applauding along with the live audience on more than once occasion. That I was that engrossed in the play to forget I was in a movie theatre was enough to justify the price of the movie ticket and it also made me realize that the experience would not have compared to watching it at home on TV. When the credits rolled, almost everyone in the audience did indeed applaud, proving that I was not alone in my appreciation of the cinematic experience.

As for Hokaibo itself, I would consider it a can't miss kabuki experience. The four scenes before the intermission make for an entertaining comedy sprinkled with Postmodern touches such as an actor interacting with a kuroko (black-robed stage hand), who are by convention regarded as invisible on the stage. Kanzaburo is a delight in the role of the roguish monk, Hokaibo, a familiar dramatic character type also embodied by Shintaro Katsu in the role of Hojin in Revenge of a Kabuki Actor. He seems to relish the moments of the play when the antiheroes mock kabuki conventions such as the cross-eyed poses traditionally held by more noble characters.

After the intermission, the final two scenes play it straight, assuming your definition of straight includes a memorable showstopping finale that has to be seen to be believed. The final two scenes also allow Kanzaburo to show the full range of his acting talents, transforming from a comic Edokko rogue with a touch of the modern improv actor in him to a kabuki master who can perform feminine onnagata parts and masculine aragoto parts with equal aplomb.

Shochiku offers a number of Cinema Kabuki offerings throughout Japan. Please see the following link to find screenings in your area. I'll be waiting expectantly to see what gets offered in Toronto next February.