Japanese New Wave

Before I go into In the Realm of Senses (1976), I just want to say it was quite a challenge to find images from the film that wouldn't get me banned on Tumblr, so please excuse if any of these may lack context:)

While the Japanese New Wave genre itself grew out of a fascination with the taboo and controversial themes then seen in Japanese film, I decided to take a closer look at one of the better-known films of this genre that still faces censorship and criticism. Directed by Nagisa Ōshima, a director known for not shying away from the depraved in his work, In the Realm of the Senses (1976) is a whirlwind tale of sex, jealousy, and violence. While the overall reception of this film may have shifted among many cinema nerds over the years, its home country still grapples with whether to depict the film as Ōshima initially intended.  

**EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT MENTIONED** 

The film follows a woman named Sada who begins a deeply erotic relationship with the owner of the hotel where she works, named Kichizo Ishida. At first, merely exploring sexual pleasure, they soon begin to engage in aspects of BDSM, non-consensual voyeurism with other parties, and insertion of non-inanimate objects (most notably an egg, which is then consumed by Ishida). Leaving his wife for Sade, they both become infatuated with one another, with Sade becoming increasingly possessive. The film ends with a sex-asphyxiation murder and a “chopping of an eggplant”, with the camera panning out from Sade lying next to Kichi in his own blood. Clearly, this film is sexual in nature, but even I underestimated the level of full-frontal nudity towards the start of the film that carried on throughout the runtime. 

Before discussing my direct opinion on the film as well as the surrounding criticism, it is important to talk about the relevance of In the Realm of the Senses in the first place. According to an article by Donald Richie posted to the Criterion Collection, the film still remains largely censored in Japan, though in most other countries you can screen it completely uncensored (as I clearly sat through). This article is also quite interesting as it is formed through the eyes of a writer on Japanese film, someone who can understand sexual themes in film versus strict pornographic content. This opinion is reminiscent of those who are either familiar with the work of Nagisa Ōshima, or who have an understanding of the more “uncomfortable” forms of artistic expression – at least that I have found when researching this film. On the other hand, upon initial release of the film, In the Realm of the Senses faced backlash due to its shocking nature, especially for the time period. I also found a review that I personally had a gripe with (though I will share more of my personal opinion later) that feels the film “confuses shock and depth” alongside “awkward acting”, showing that there are many with the opinion that this film should remain chalked up to “pornographic”. 

Though challenging to find a strict interview in response to the negative criticism, I found that through most interviews, Nagisa Ōshima speaks of his films and the director’s process with nothing but pure love and passion for his art. In an interview conducted by Katsue Tomiyama in 1983, he mostly talks about how he found this film to be a privilege to create, even if there was unfortbaboity from both the audience and even many of the actors in interviews. Despite the general public’s negative perception of this film, Ōshima is proud of the work he has produced, and I think his drive to create (especially something so boundary-pushing) is something that can be appreciated even by critics who don’t quite understand the role In the Realm of Senses serves. 

While I understand the criticism at play, I still found myself enjoying the film. Not in a sick, depraved way, but I gathered meaning beyond the nudity and rough sex. While the film itself consists of an act against the “proper” themes of film and media, I found its tale of obsession and jealousy to be a warning when entering a relationship, especially if sex is involved. While the majority of real-world relationships aren’t this erotic, the feelings Sade faces in the film can still be present, and not letting a relationship filled with toxicity ruin your life is something I think anyone should be able to learn from this film. At first, I admit I was a bit shocked at just how much nudity I was seeing (especially since I started the film at 8:00 am), but by the end I understood why it was needed. Not just to shove it in the face of the film industry, but to explicitly (REALLY explicitly) warn of the dangers of toxic relationships and the unsettled emotional tolls they can take on a person. After watching In the Realm of the Senses (1976) myself, I find myself more in the bandwagon of filmgoers who not only can appreciate the art of the film but who can find a message beyond its sexual nature and appreciate the work of  Nagisa Ōshima and his strides in boundary-pushing filmmaking.    

An interesting video I found that reminded me of the past director interviews I searched for. This is a short clip from an interview with Ari Aster, an American filmmaker known for Midsommar (2019) and Hereditary (2018). I enjoyed his conversation on his take on the "biopic", as well as the balance of sex and violence.

A clip from the film I can actually show here is during their ceremony, after Kichi leaves his wife for Sade. I find this clip to capture their relationship with one another, as it shows how it's seemingly less emotional than it is sexual and "devious."

Finally, I wanted to include clips from the film that show the director's style. Using red as a focal point on Sade throughout the film, to me, this signifies the forboding danger this relationship leads her to. THE TIMESTAMP IS 1:17 to 1:48

Resources

Ferreira, Saulo. “In the Realm of the Senses.” Reviews On Reels, 1 May 2026, reviewsonreels.ca/2024/12/28/in-the-realm-of-the-senses-1976/.

Habib, Bella. "Erotic passion as a desperate cry aimed at the other: Nagisa Oshima's In the realm of the senses." The International Journal of Psychoanalysis 96.4 (2015): 1159-1167. https://books.google.com/books?hl=en&lr=&id=53xRa5dwUOUC&oi=fnd&pg=PA217&dq=nagisa+oshima+realm+of+senses&ots=JtAPXlriI7&sig=YqtCn9fS928iHe1IocqIJZg32UA#v=onepage&q=nagisa%20oshima%20realm%20of%20senses&f=false

Richie, Donald. “In the Realm of the Senses: Some Notes on Oshima and Pornography | Current | The Criterion Collection.” The Criterion Collection, 2009, www.criterion.com/current/posts/1108-in-the-realm-of-the-senses-some-notes-on-oshima-and-pornography.

Shepherdson, Kari L. "Fists, youth, and protest: Oshima Nagisa’s filmic rebellion in 1960." Diss. University of British Columbia, 2002. https://open.library.ubc.ca/soa/cIRcle/collections/ubctheses/831/items/1.0103846.

Since the movement began in the mid-to-late 50s, I wanted to look at a prominent director’s later film to reflect on any developments within the Japanese New Wave. I decided to watch The Eel (1997), a story involving the isolation of a man named Takuro Yamashita who confines in his pet eel after murdering his wife and having to live a more reclusive lifestyle. Working as a barber, he develops a relationship with a woman after saving her, which begins to teeter due to her other sexual pursuits, as well as Yamashita’s own personal struggles with mental well-being and feelings of loneliness.

While I found this later, take from a long-standing New Wave director to be an enjoyable watch, there was less “in your face” violence used, as well as less of an emphasis on the taboo. While there was murder, fights, and infidelity, those felt like mere side pieces of the main story of a man who copes via talking to an eel he “befriended” in prison. While the depiction of the Japanese countryside and the strategic use of color were still present, like in the older New Wave films (particularly when Takuro has hallucinations involving the eel’s tank, with the whole frame being set to a deep underwater blue), I felt the storyline felt more internally heavy in its subject matter versus external crime and violence. 

I overall heavily enjoyed this film - dare I say more than my previous watch of Tokyo Drifter (1966). I adore films that can make a dark subject an enjoyable watch through its style, storytelling, and imagery. I may be biased because I love fish and own an aquarium myself, but I found Takuro’s reliance on the eel to be touching, reflecting on my own coping mechanisms and once shared feelings of isolation. The theme reminded me of the late David Lynch’s Eraserhead (1977), where the main character copes with the feelings of fatherhood while his feelings manifest as a vile alien-like baby. The eel, to me, is a creature that lurks and is usually surrounded by darkness, capturing how Takuro Yamashita battles with his conflicting feelings for a woman and his own personal sorrows.

Here's a great review of the film from Jonathan Rosenbaum. I found his reflection on the nuances in Japanese New Wave to be particularly interesting (as a Western viewer myself)

This review focuses more on the psychology of the characters and the writing within the film

Finally, I want to include a trailer (with English subtitles) because I highly recommend watching this film, and I feel this is a good start if you're interested! I tried to keep my review spoiler-free as well.

With such a change from the classic motifs and themes of Japanese films at the time, it's no wonder that many of these filmmakers are still talked about today -- with Suzuki being one of the most notable.

An interview I found that really encapsulates how inspirational Suzuki's films have been was with Connor Jessup, a Canadian actor known for his roles in Netflix shows. However, he also enjoys directing and producing on the side, which I found through a search of his Instagram. https://www.instagram.com/connorwjessup/?hl=en

This interview exemplifies how impactful Suzuki's films have been on many young people in the film industry. Not only does he show his knowledge of the history of the Japanese New Wave and its differing scenes of violence from Hollywood action films, but his love and appreciation for these films seeps through his interview -- showing that these films can have a profound impact on those from countries outside of Japan.

Continuing with the theme of actors finding inspiration (I will touch more on that later), another interview I found that mentions Seijun and his films is one featuring Bill Hader, an American comedic actor. Though I may be biased because I love Superbad, I also chose this interview clip because I loved his perspective on the absurdity of these films. Though that may be unusual in nature, this interview shows just how enjoyable they are to watch. After viewing these films, I can understand how many may take inspiration from many of the "wild" scenes shown, something I think is emulated in later American action films.

While I initially wanted to search for interviews involving directors that I thought may have taken inspiration, such as Quentin Tarantino, with his over-the-top take on gangster films, I mostly found film critics SAYING he took inspiration from Japanese New Wave films, among other American directors. Though it may not have been explicitly stated by these directors, it is very clear (at least to me) that these films shared similar styles to those that emerged from this era in Japanese film.

Below is an interesting video I found that goes more into this subject and the history of Suzuki's films specifically:

While I found the interviews to be an interesting look into how many "ordinary" people (in this case, anyone but a director directly mimicking themes of Suzuki's films) take inspiration and enjoy these films, I wish that directors would directly speak on who they take inspiration from more, as this could open many young directors into expanding their tatse and style, as well as credit those who initally brought these themes into the film industry.

Directed by Seijun Suzuki in 1966, this film exemplifies one of the most prominent "taboo" topics highlighted throughout Japanese New Wave cinema -- Japanese gangsters!

Mainly followed through the character Testu, gang life slowly tries to call him back after a rival member of his former gang offers him a position (and rather forcefully). Through action, violence, and thrill, Tetsu must face his past and decide for himself whether or not to fall back into gang life, all while trying to avoid the rival members after him.

Suzuki uniquely uses bright art-pop-like colors throughout many of the violences, all while extravagant jazz ensemble music plays. His use of color, over-the-top action, and music diverges from what you would expect from a seemingly dark topic such as gang violence, making the film entertaining on the surface while remaining true to the nature of the subject at hand via the characters' emotional progression and language. "Tokyo Drifter: The Art of Not Making Sense" by Amanada Hartsell does a great job at delving into a lot of details Suzuki thought of that may be missed upon first watch.

While making this all the more thrilling for the audience during the scenes, the sorrowful, emotional points in the film are cut with a high contrast B&W. The final end battle is one of the key moments in the film, where *SPOILER WARNING*

Tetsu makes the decision to walk alone and leave everything he once knew behind.

This scene is emotional, yet it feels like retribution for all of the pain Tetsu endured, and for the people he felt he had hurt. I loved the simplicity of this scene, with minimal background and the characters in black, minus Tetsu in a white suit. To me, this symbolizes his changed person, a man free of gang life and delinquency.

Another Article if you're interested in learning more about Suzuki's approach to color in this film:

Here's a brief YouTube video that I felt encapsulates the emotional appeal of Seijun Suzuki's directorial techniques, as well as information on Suzuki himself and how his films are a form of retaliation from strict production companies and their disdain for his style and lack of budget.

I thoroughly enjoyed this film and truly felt it was ahead of its time. Its thoughtful script, appealing bright visuals, and action-packed storyline were enjoyable while still having me feel empathy for Tetsu and the turmoil he had gotten himself into. I would not only recommend watching this film, but also listening to the soundtrack separately, as I feel it adds much more to the film, especially with Suzuki's use of recurring ballads.

Though this may seem brief, hopefully, I will be able to delve into some of these directors' (& others') most prominent films from this era later in my blog!

Nagisa Ôshima

One of the movement's earliest emerging directors, Ôshima has a long filmography that primarily focuses on postwar society, after feeling something was wrong with the current state of Japanese film. Exploring themes of materialism and westernization of Japan, some of his most popular films include Death by Hanging (1968), The Ceremony (1971), and Violence at Noon (1966).

Seijun Suzuki

After fighting on the frontlines during the war, Suzuki enrolled in film school. His films have a unique visual style that strays away from traditional film rules, as well as his profound style of humor. Some of his most popular films include Tokyo Drifter (1966), Branded to Kill (1967), and Gate of Flesh (1964)

Shôhei Imamura

Working with directors such as Nagisa Ôshima and Masahiro Shinoda, Imamura was also one of the first prominent directors of the New Wave. Wanting to go against the studios, he focused on poverty and darker subjects, such as incest, with a harsh, realistic look at life for many in Japan, despite Imamura not facing many of these struggles himself. His most well-known films include The Insect Woman (1963), Profound Desires of the Gods (1968), and The Pornographers (1966) -- he later had success in the 1990s and 1980s with The Eel (1997) and Black Rain (1989).

➱ In 1955, the movement was "created" by film studios to regain public interest in cinema after the war.

➱Young directors became unsatisfied with the confinement of topics within the studios, leading to more independent and arthouse studios emerging.

➱Without shift, films may have become bastardized with too much of a reliance on the taboo and shock factor, rather than appearing more philosophical and poignant.