Kurosawa orchestrated the epic, Ozu sketched a portrait and Mizoguchi composed the ballet.
These are the three great directors of classic Japanese cinema, each of them varying in themes, style and even critical reception. Yet whereas the other two were tacticians, Kenji Mizoguchi was the one with style, grace and eloquence.
“Ugetsu” is his great fable, adapted from a well known Japanese fairy tale. Yet it begins so domestically, hardly the set up for a ghost story. Still though, Mizoguchi provides us with an eerie sense of where the story may be taking us.
The lesson to be learned is to avoid arrogance in the face of ambition. Two brothers, one trying to strike it rich by practicing pottery, and the other seeking fame as a samurai, boldly put themselves and their families in danger during wartime so they can achieve these goals. And although the men are the main character in this story, it’s more affecting and painful to watch these loving women call out to these men that are so stubborn. It made me consider the axiom that behind every man there is a great woman. But what woman stands behind a foolish man?
For a time, the film abandons the women. The potter becomes possessed by a beautiful spirit woman, Lady Wakasa (Machiko Kyo), oblivious to how she creates a false paradise for him. And meanwhile, his faithful wife’s fate remains unknown. As for the man aiming to become a samurai, he achieves his dream by sneakily killing another samurai and stealing the head of a general. His downfall from his high horse comes when he finds his wife serving as a geisha, tarnished after being raped by enemy soldiers.
The final fantastical twist is what makes “Ugetsu” so famous and acclaimed. Mizoguchi handles the moment, as he does the rest of the film, in such a dreamlike trance. The film’s pacing is so delicate, moving to the score’s minimally percussive beat and ancient Japanese wailing.
And in its parable morality, “Ugetsu” remains a timeless fantasy.
