Onibaba (1964)

Shindô Kaneto

Japan

103 min, B&W, Japanese (English subtitles)

Review © 2002 Branislav L. Slantchev

Marxist posturing aside (the director claimed that one of his aims was to create a film that commented on class distinction), Shindô has crafted an excellent affirmation of the boundless vitality of human beings.

Set in the turbulent era of the Two Courts when the Ashikaga clan plunged Japan in a brutal civil strife that ended only with the establishment of its own shogunate (14th century), Onibaba depicts the struggle of an old woman (Otowa Nobuko) and her young daughter-in-law (Yoshimura Jitsuko) who are left to fend for themselves when the Ashikaga draft the men to go to war.

The two women live in a hovel amidst an endless field of swaying reeds where human beings are dominated by the environment and easily lost. Once in a while, soldiers running from battle enter the fields, where the two women kill them, strip them of swords and armor, and exchange the bounty for food. They dispose of the bodies by dumping them into a large dark hole in the middle of the field.

One day, Hachi (Sato Kei), a neighbor who was drafted together with the old woman's son, returns to tell the women that the other man has been killed by some peasants. Soon, the young widow begins an intense physical relationship with Hachi, who spends most of his days idling in the sun. The old woman begins to feel threatened by these liaisons (which the two lovers try keep secret from her) and tries various ways of preventing them.

She plays on Hachi's lust, but her fading charms are no match for the attraction of the nubile flesh of the younger woman. She then plays on the feelings her daughter-in-law had for her son, but this also fails when the latter asserts that whatever she felt, the husband is dead and gone. Finally, she attempts to scare the young woman with tales of the Buddhist hell where illicit lovers will inevitably go. Although this impresses the young woman for a while, her sexual drive overrides the fear of the supernatural as well.

One night, a masked samurai enters the hovel where he finds the old woman alone. He demands to be shown the way through to Kyoto and the woman acquiesces on the pain of death. During their walk they exchange several brief sentences, in which the woman demands to see his face (he refuses) and then scolds the lord for starting the war. These probably form the basis of director's political comment but were too feeble and unbelievable to work. At any rate, the woman leads the warlord to his death in the hole, then returns and retrieves his armor.

When she removes the mask, she finds a horribly disfigured face. Being a peasant, she does not realize this is leprosy and instead takes the mask in order to frighten her daughter-in-law into submission. She does scare the young woman twice and it almost ends the relationship with Hachi. However, the sexual drive is so strong that nothing can stop it. The young woman tries again, against fear of demonds and eternal damnation. She finally overcomes the masked mother-in-law during a stormy night and mates with Hachi in the rain immediately. They part and a wandering soldier kills Hachi when he returns to his hut.

When she returns, she finds the demon, or rather her mother-in-law wearing the mask. The mask is stuck to the face, it cannot be removed. Finally, after much pain and with the help of a hammer, the daughter manages to remove the mask revealing her mother-in-law's terribly scarred face. She has been punished for meddling with the natural. Horrified by the appearance, the young woman bolts, with the older one in pursuit, crying for help. The film ends with the two leaping over the dark hole.

As a social commentary, the film is shallow. The ravages of war seen from the bottom up theme can be (and has been) done much better. The class consciousness which Shindô wanted to impart on the heroines is simply missing.

On the other hand, this remake of the ancient Japanese tale is a particularly strong depiction of the life-affirming will to survive. The redoubtable human nature and the strongly erotic sexual impulses are as unruly as the reeds of the marsh that surrounds the women and protects them from the war. The jazzy and sometimes haunting soundtrack works very well to set the mood of dangerously repressed desire. Eventually, the old woman is punished for trying to extinguish the vitality of youth. However, unlike the lazy Hachi, who is permanently removed, the old woman will continue to survive, though mutilated by the incident. In the end, the punishment for laziness is more severe than anything else in this unforgiving world.

The film could have used some tighter editing as the story itself cannot really sustain the length devoted to its development. While visually impressive, the film can become somewhat tedious and even the generous amounts of nudity (both women prance around naked frequently with no apparent reason) cannot help the plodding action along. Still, the gorgeous black and white photography and Shindô's masterful use of the widescreen make this film a treat to see.

October 28, 2002