KEEPER

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1952

Kanji Watanabe is a middle-aged man who has worked in the same monotonous bureaucratic position for decades. Learning he has cancer, he starts to look for the meaning of his life.

Tackling the cycle of inefficient government bureaucracy and literally the meaning of life is pretty heavy, but Kurosawa executes it deftly with a good balance between subtlety when needed but also very on-the-nose, almost cartoonish set pieces like the big funeral scene in the second half. The story of Watanabe is tragic but ultimately hopeful, as he was able to find his purpose even if the odds told him it was “too late.” But it’s never too late!! Go build that park, man!! I could cry.

I thought while watching this that Tokyo Story would be a good double feature with Ikiru. Both touch on the intricacies of growing older and dealing with family, just from somewhat opposite perspectives. I almost wished I got a little more from that out of Ikiru, in the end he obviously takes care of his son but I wanted to see a final conversation between them to clear things up. I get why it’s not there and it does make the conclusion even more solemn, though. I didn't expect the third act of the story to play out the way it did at all, but it was entertaining being a fly on the wall as everyone pieced together Watanabe’s motivations (while getting more and more drunk). The final shots of him singing on the swing really touched me because he was finally happy! I’m so grateful to have seen this in person with a big crowd that really juiced up the atmosphere, and I can’t wait to finish off the rest of his filmography that I haven't seen yet!

Watch if you Like — Improving your local community, swinging at the park

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1975

A military explorer meets and befriends a Goldi man in Russia’s unmapped forests. A deep and abiding bond evolves between the two men, one civilized in the usual sense, the other at home in the glacial Siberian woods.

To me, Akira Kurosawa doing Dersu Uzala = David Lynch doing The Straight Story. Both are a departure from previous work that explore more tender-hearted emotions about the bond between humans, and I greatly enjoyed them! Dersu in particular is a crazy good bromance movie, and we must protect him at all costs. The way he says Captain will be ingrained into my memory forever. This being in Russian really threw me for a loop, but at our screening there was a small intro describing the circumstances that led to Kurosawa unable to find financing, sadly attempting his own life, and finally making this film for the USSR that launched the latter half of his career due to its Oscar success. For that, I’m very grateful this film exists, and even though it is a slow character drama, the cinemography and score were beautiful and elevated it beyond just a simple walk through the woods. Seeing this in 35mm dramatically added to that experience!

I consider Dersu to be like Winnie the Pooh or Paddington, and yes that is because he is short and round, but also because he is wise beyond his years in ways he may not even comprehend. Everyone around Dersu is affected by his presence for the better, and it was so sad seeing him struggle outside of his element in the city. After watching this, I began to think of if I had a Dersu in my life, someone who radiates joy and pushes me towards treating people better, and I hope to be someone like that for others. Hopefully not in the woods though, I’m more of a city guy. 

Watch if you Like — Male friendships, the masculine urge to live in the woods as a nomad

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1990

Eight visually rich vignettes drawn from Kurosawa’s own dreams—fox weddings and vanished orchards, a soldier’s ghosts, a walk through Van Gogh’s canvases, nuclear nightmares, and a water-mill utopia—meditate on childhood, art, mortality, and humanity’s uneasy bond with nature.

Akira Kurosawa dreams of wearing a bucket hat.

A kaleidoscope of colorful fantasies, Dreams is literally that— the dreams in Kurosawa’s personal life put to film. While an incredibly interesting concept, it seems to be used in a more metaphorical sense to pontificate on the sins of humans against nature. Like other compilation films, I thought a few were really firing on all cylinders and others were a little too subdued. I love a good meander, but it felt like the sum of the stories painted a more impactful picture than some of the stories themselves (if that makes any sense). Which is great to laude and dissect after the fact, but in the moment I wasn’t having quite as much of a fun time as I wanted to.

The cinematography, use of color, and the overall vibrancy of nature is wonderful, but I really connected with the second half’s stories being told a little more than the first. “The Tunnel”’s take on PTSD and the brutality of war was the most poignant, although the final tale of the village with the watermills left maybe my favorite final impression out of any Kurosawa work. It felt hopeful, which was a nice juxtaposition compared to multiple stories about humans polluting the environment and being damned to Dante’s Inferno. Pollution was really my main takeaway out of all the dreams and seems like the main pretense for Kurosawa deciding to make this film in the first place. I think it’s a fine message, I just got a little bogged down in the slowness of it all. As the film went on, more and more people started chuckling when the title cards revealed there was another dream to be told, which doesn’t necessarily mean anything but I did find it interesting that maybe the room was getting a little antsy for something to happen. All in all, it’s beautiful and has something to say, and it has Martin Scorsese!

Watch if you Like — Vivid dreams, Van Gogh

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1965

Aspiring to an easy job as personal physician to a wealthy family, Noboru Yasumoto is disappointed when his first post after medical school takes him to a small country clinic under the gruff doctor Red Beard. Yasumoto rebels in numerous ways, but Red Beard proves a wise and patient teacher. He gradually introduces his student to the unglamorous side of the profession, ultimately assigning him to care for a prostitute rescued from a local brothel.

Mixed emotions after coming out of the theater for my latest delve into the mind of Akira Kurosawa, Red Beard. I honestly got whiplash how much I did not enjoy the first half and how much I enjoyed the second half. I had no idea there was going to be an intermission, so when the lights came up I sighed and was ready to leave a little disappointed. Then I realized we had a whole second half to go and willed myself to really lock in. Luckily, the pacing really picks up and the emotional beats are dramatically more impactful. For me, the first half is my least favorite Kurosawa film I have seen, while the second half is in my top 3. Not really sure how that works!

I do understand the significance of the first half of the young doctor’s story and how he experiences multiple smaller cases that shape his perception of the world, his profession and skills therein, and of Red Beard’s character. I do not, however, resonate with any of those stories that were being told. The abused serial husband killer plot line was really forcing some heavy emotions that I did not feel were earned, and then it was never really touched on ever again. The thirty minute flashback sequence with the wife pretending to be killed in an earthquake also just felt so random and screeched the entire movie to a halt, and I didn’t care at all that that guy was dying in the first place. I did connect with the young girl and her story, which thankfully becomes the main focal point of the film and elevates it to a truly new realm in the second half that I haven’t seen out of Kurosawa thus far. 

The doctor and girl nursing each other back to health was very touching, and seeing both of them soften up and Red Beard’s wisdom truly become absorbed was very satisfying. The way the clinic rallies around the girl even though not understanding her at first almost made me cry, especially when we introduce the boy and what becomes of his struggling family. The only plot in the second half that didn’t land was the young doctor’s relationship struggles and eventual marriage. It didn’t take up too much time and honestly I don’t think it really added anything to his character so I’m fine just letting that exist in the background, and the payoff with him deciding to stay at the clinic felt right. 

I do have to shout out the cinematography, it felt a little more fluid that other Kurosawa films from this era and was willing to zoom and move around and use shadow to create interesting images in a really cool way. Conversations were shot close up so you really feel like you’re crammed in the tight nooks of the clinic and feeling the weight of everything. Also, that ending scene of the women screaming into the well is FUCKING HAUNTING. Like wow that’s pure agony.

The acting was also very good (as expected) but especially the children did a great job in my opinion which is always a wildcard. I don’t really know how to change this movie but there’s gotta be a way to remove all the subplots and still get the character arc evolution. Keep all of Red Beard’s stuff, though. He’s great. 

Watch if you Like — Universal Health Care, having a good mentor

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1985

Shakespeare’s King Lear is reimagined as a singular historical epic set in sixteenth-century Japan where an aging warlord divides his kingdom between his three sons.

Deciding to shoot in color and then making THE color film has got to be the biggest flex of all time. This is Kurosawa’s Barry Lyndon; every shot is meticulous and ethereally beautiful. I’ve never even seen color like that before, I wish I lived in that world. Well, maybe not that region at least, lot of turmoil it seems. This is the best Shakespeare adaptation I’ve ever seen, with the Japanese warring clan setting being the perfect vessel to imagine King Lear. There are so many themes to take away from this, such as “Having your elderly parents move into your basement can be a drag, especially if they have their own court jester” and “Never trust a mistress who asks for the head of your wife after a one night stand.” Lot to unpack. Need to watch again immediately.

Watch if you Like — Color like you've never seen, a big inheritance

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1957

Returning to their lord’s castle, samurai warriors Washizu and Miki are waylaid by a spirit who predicts their futures. When the first part of the spirit’s prophecy comes true, Washizu’s scheming wife, Asaji, presses him to speed up the rest of the spirit’s prophecy by murdering his lord and usurping his place. Director Akira Kurosawa’s resetting of William Shakespeare’s “Macbeth” in feudal Japan is one of his most acclaimed films.

I’m a Shakespeare guy, so replace the boring culture of the Danish with feudal Japan and we’re cooking with gas here in Kurosawa’s brilliant adaptation of Macbeth. The ghosts were genuinely haunting, and the scene of the Lady washing her hands of the invisible blood was executed perfectly. Mifune, as always, steals the show with his performance, creating a character with the perfect amount of cockiness and desperation. Although not as much humor as some of Kurosawa’s others, I think the creepiness and solemnness of the fog and inching forest was the most apt tone for the material.

Can I just say, though: somebody needed to clean up that blood. You can’t sleep in a room covered in blood and expect to manifest happiness. How people decorate is pretty indicative of their personality, so what does it say to have a blood room? Maybe that was the type of energy he was trying to attract, I guess. It worked?

Watch if you Like — Samurai Shakespeare, doing whatever it takes to be on top

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1958

In feudal Japan, during a bloody war between clans, two cowardly and greedy peasants, soldiers of a defeated army, stumble upon a mysterious man who guides them to a fortress hidden in the mountains.

A princess in trouble, smuggled by a ragtag group through the desert, while the score bops around and the transitions wipe each scene away—It’s easy to see the influences Lucas took for Star Wars, and I love it! There are a lot of unique decisions that make this stand out amidst Kurosawa’s samurai filmography, most importantly the framing device. Following the idiot peasant duo and making their journey the through line of the story provided fun comic relief but also kept the momentum through what could have been a paint-by-the-numbers journey. Their firecracker nature always meant a situation could go south on a whim, which kept me interested to see what problems they would get into and then how Mifune’s character would cunningly navigate it. It’s also cool to see a woman as a main character in one of these, especially since she was a badass. 

The set pieces were the highlight for me, particularly the village uprising at the beginning and the Fire Festival (which seemed to be a lot cooler than the one in Mexico). There were so many extras around that it made the world feel larger and more alive, which is interesting compared to most of the other Kurosawa films I have watched so far. All his stories have had such an intimate nature to them, especially since he re-uses lots of his actors and seems to stick with more straightforward locations and story beats. In a weird way, I see a comparison in this to how Beau is Afraid feels like a bigger, wilder swing in the work of Ari Aster. They both involve weird moments in the forest, maybe that’s why I think that.

Watch if you Like — Female heroines, horse-jacking

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1948

In postwar Tokyo, a blunt, alcohol-soaked doctor diagnoses a swaggering young yakuza with tuberculosis, forging an uneasy bond that’s tested when the gangster’s ruthless former boss returns and drags him back toward the swampy underworld he can’t escape.

A soft but powerful juxtaposition of the cycle of abuse and power, Drunken Angel follows a yakuza member stricken with tuberculosis and the cranky doctor intent on saving him. Funny yet solemn, watching Mifune’s character worsen over the course of the movie, teetering between the forces of good and the forces of evil, really connected with me and wove into some higher concepts Kurosawa loves to touch on—honor, loyalty, grief, and community. 

In fact, yakuza and samurai in Kurosawa’s films are really two sides to the same coin. Both are a familial clan with a sense of pride in their work and influence in their local communities, only yakuza use that power for evil instead of good. It was definitely intentional that Kurosawa chose to create this film for exactly that connection, something also explored in other crime thrillers such as High and Low. Tragically, this tale ends a little differently than expected, re-starting the cycle and hammering home the importance of found family and doing what’s best to protect your peace and your health, even if your doctor is a little drunk off the rubbing alcohol. 

Watch if you Like — The life of a gangster, late night music sessions

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1949

A bad day gets worse for young detective Murakami when a pickpocket steals his gun on a hot, crowded bus. Desperate to right the wrong, he goes undercover, scavenging Tokyo’s sweltering streets for the stray dog whose desperation has led him to a life of crime. With each step, cop and criminal’s lives become more intertwined and the investigation becomes an examination of Murakami’s own dark side.

Slow and calculated, Stray Dog lets the viewer roam the quiet streets, tracking a stolen gun and unraveling the mystery with a balanced team of rookie detective and seasoned pro. Its classic, methodical approach to a crime noir is executed deftly, although it results in the slowest Kurosawa film I have experienced thus far. I did love the approach to tracking the pacing of the plot via how many bullets were left in the gun; it kept the stakes high even when nothing was really going on.

I love how Kurosawa juxtaposes the path we choose to take in life via the two men coming back from the military. Shared experiences shape people in dramatically different ways, and it’s our responsibility to take those lessons and use them to better ourselves and our society. I didn’t particularly resonate with any character, however, and thought the film meandered around a lot to build tension but did not result in me caring about anything that was happening. The whole side character of Honda and the baseball game really did nothing but screech the plot to a halt, but I guess I got to see like a lot of a baseball game? Like probably too much of a baseball game. 

Watch if you Like — Baseball, A veteran showing a newbie the ropes

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1950

Four people recount different versions of the story of a man’s murder and the rape of his wife.

This is the first Kurosawa film I’ve seen that seems to be really trying to say something. All his films have been dealing with larger themes about morality, but this in particular sets out with the pure intent to make the viewer question the concepts of perception and truth in society. The way in which that is done—the narrative retelling by each character—keeps the plot interesting, although a little slow in my opinion. I enjoyed the conversations at the temple that tie it all together, especially the conclusion, but seeing the same situation play out over and over seems a bit daunting no matter how variable that situation becomes. 

I picked up similar frequencies to The Seventh Seal (especially their depiction of women lol) and The Last Duel while watching this, the latter being a direct mirror to Rashomon’s structure. I think this film ultimately succeeds more than The Last Duel in delivering its message a little more quaintly. As always, I love Mifune and how he embodies the crazy bandit, where he is a badass samurai in his perspective (and other Kurosawa films) but is a bumbling idiot that can’t even steal a girl correctly. This one may need a rewatch in the future, I just can’t say I’m pumped to do that anytime soon. I think I got the themes enough that I’m good for now. Might I add here that admitting an oracle into the court of law is diabolical behavior. What were these people on back then?

Watch if you Like — Embellishing your achievements, murder mysteries

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1963

A Yokohama shoe executive faces a wrenching choice when kidnappers mistakenly seize his chauffeur’s son but demand the ransom anyway.

An electric crime thriller with a lot to say about class, how we treat and take care of others, and leaving dumbass children unattended. The first half’s procedural deep dive was familiar yet riveting, morphing to its second half as an exploration into humanity and dealing with grief. From the scene of tailing the killer through various disguised policemen to the final moments in the jail, my hand was clenched to the side of the chair, eyes glued to the screen…which is a feat two and a half hours in!

Being the only Kurosawa film I have seen that isn’t about samurai, I’m drawn to the fact that this fundamentally shares a lot of those core themes anyway. I’m sure this connection has been made plenty of times by much smarter people, but all of Mifune’s characters seem to operate under the same code of honor and sense of service to others, ultimately creating a hero by proxy. In High And Low, Gondo is going through his own personal crisis but cannot shake the urge to do good deeds—pushing back about shoe quality, paying the ransom, sacking his assistant for poor morality, and ultimately confronting his kidnapper with dignity. I think a small yet significant moment is when the kidnapper approaches Gondo on the street and asks for a cigarette light. It signifies that this guy is somewhat of a psycho with the serial killer instinct to revisit crime scenes and play with his prey just for fun, but more importantly in my opinion it reinforces Gondo’s character as one who reaches out to strangers and lends a helping hand. It helps that Mifune is a stand-up guy and also badass in every Kurosawa film I’ve seen so far, so maybe it’s just a man crush.

Watch if you Like — Semi-competent police work, the shoe business

dir. Akira Kurosawa - 1962

Toshiro Mifune swaggers and snarls to brilliant comic effect in Kurosawa’s tightly paced, beautifully composed “Sanjuro.” In this companion piece and sequel to “Yojimbo,” jaded samurai Sanjuro helps an idealistic group of young warriors weed out their clan’s evil influences, and in the process turns their image of a proper samurai on its ear.

Awesome follow up to Yojimbo! Doesn’t reach the highs in my opinion but is pretty consistently entertaining; I think I could watch 20 of these with Sanjuro just prancing around getting into wild encounters. This one was a little more serious this time around, but while I enjoyed the warring clan angle of the first and a gun-wielding samurai and his array of weird-looking fools, I think I actually preferred the antagonist in this one more since he felt more well-rounded and competent. The crux of this film was less “outsmarting really dumb people” and more “training up an outnumbered rebellion to be heroes” which felt like classic cinema.

The character of Sanjuro continues to be enigmatic with a wit and moral compass that seems to change with the wind. I enjoy how much him as a character doesn’t matter at all and the focus is on the other cast, as I think it keeps the film far more engaging because you never really know how a situation is going to play out. Sometimes, he kills twenty men in twenty seconds, but other times he refuses to kill and errs towards a more intelligent approach. Either way, he operates with a high code of honor that ultimately leads to success, which I think is a good lesson to represent. All the elements of this one mirror the first, so I don’t have too many radical things to say, but I can see myself revisiting these quite often as they have a simple timelessness where the humor and situations transcend the cultural barriers of feudal Japan. Kurosawa sure knows how to capture this moment in history, and I can’t wait to see all the different angles he approaches it throughout the rest of his filmography!

Watch if you Like — Rooting for the little guys, equipment malfunctions that lead to iconic blood volcanos

dir. Akira Kurosawa — 1961

A nameless ronin, or samurai with no master, enters a small village in feudal Japan where two rival businessmen are struggling for control of the local gambling trade. Taking the name Sanjuro Kuwabatake, the ronin convinces both silk merchant Tazaemon and sake merchant Tokuemon to hire him as a personal bodyguard, then artfully sets in motion a full-scale gang war between the two ambitious and unscrupulous men.

Starting off my Akira Kurosawa journey on the highest possible note, Yojimbo blends everything I need out of a samurai film into one tight, wonderful package— a nameless wanderer looking for coin, a village in dire need of help, political intrigue and espionage, and a very wacky cast of characters causing chaos whether they can help it or not. There are some bold choices in there that Kurosawa absolutely nails; all the funny moments really work, with Sanjuro playing an almost ‘Jim from The Office’ type role where he looks off into the distance or chuckles to himself while characters are saying something really stupid. There’s a Coen Brothers type of energy to this, a frantic absurdity of two rival gangs that are nowhere near skilled enough to outwit the other until a younger samurai appears with a literal gun. A gun in a samurai movie is just hilariously evil. What happened to honor, man??

His wit in outsmarting both sides of the town was more enjoyable than the actual fighting, and that’s huge props given we are in a samurai movie. I also extremely enjoyed the cinematography and score that swelled with the camera’s movement. It’s such a beautiful film and purposeful in its symmetry and composition that create paintings out of the frames. The new 4K restoration was wonderful to watch on the big screen, and the crowd was super into the plot and its humor which made the experience way more fun. I can’t wait to continue the journey and see where the sequel goes!

Watch if you Like — Westerns, silent protagonists

dir. Makoto Shinkai — 2022

Suzume, 17, lost her mother as a little girl. On her way to school, she meets a mysterious young man. But her curiosity unleashes a calamity that endangers the entire population of Japan, and so Suzume embarks on a journey to set things right.

It’s a girl on a whimsical adventure!!! This felt very much like a spiritual successor to Spirited Away, I loved it so much! The doors lend themselves perfectly as a narrative device for this island-trotting journey, and by the end I was very invested in Suzume’s growth and determination to save her friend and the world. She was a beacon of light wherever she traveled, and the world really took care of her when she needed it, which I find a lot of hope and solace in. There’s just the right amount of absurdity that’s acknowledged, such as a sentient chair running around, that the film was such a breeze to watch and get invested in. I also think the ending is really well done and gives closure while giving her time to grow up a bit before any sort of weird romance.

The animation is so beautiful and has a similar palette to Your Name, which is another of Mokoto Shinkai’s I adored. His signature style is really cemented here, with the music perfectly complementing the swooning emotions of the characters and the story. I thought it was sad but touching that the doors appeared in abandoned places that did not have the liveliness of humans to keep the evil at bay. It’s a great reminder to cherish where we live and who we are doing life with; we can all be Closers if we remember and honor those who came before us and those who will come after. What a nice message.

Watch if you Like — Sprawling adventures, having a cool older friend with a convertible

dir. Hideaki Anno — 2000

A disillusioned filmmaker has an encounter with a young woman who has a ritual of repeating “Tomorrow is my birthday” everyday. He tries to communicate with her through his video camera.

I wouldn’t be surprised if people got super uneasy during the first thirty minutes and stopped watching, but man, what a shame! Ritual is a complex and intimate portrayal of anguish and loneliness in a world that doesn’t seem to care. Hideaki Anno bores a tunnel into its deep recesses, unafraid of thrusting the craziness we keep in our heads on full display. I’ve come to realize some directors will mask the weirdness of a film’s plot by starting out pretty normal and then slowly slipping into the insane, getting the viewer comfortable before launching into the upside down part of the roller-coaster. Even in Anno’s Neon Genesis Evangelion, the concept seems otherworldly but the setup is pretty easy to follow — it gets you comfortable first. Here, it’s almost the opposite, where the style and insanity of the woman’s mind hits immediately, unrelenting, before the layers slowly peel back further and further throughout the course of the film. This is realized in the film itself by her outward appearance that literally masks her true emotions, hiding behind “quirkiness” as opposed to dealing with any real internal struggle (hmm, surely this doesn’t happen in real life?)

The ritual of delaying her birthday, not facing life but rather vicariously living freely from outside its constraints, can be framed as a fun way to go about living, but the torture inside her, especially when visualized through the wonderful set design of her living space (most importantly the basement), seems more and more depressing, with the Director walking the fine line between desperately shaking her to wake up from the dream but giving her the space and resources to work out her own emotions and not get too attached. What starts as a surreal encounter with a girl dressed as a clown on some train tracks morphs into a deep, emotional portrayal of grief, depression, and genuine care in a relationship. This film really moved me and will most definitely have a lasting effect on the lens I view my life, and it serves as a beautiful reminder to check in on the family and friends you love most. Pure poetry in motion.

Watch if you Like — Manic pixie dream girls, birthdays

dir. Kenji Mizoguchi — 1954

In medieval Japan, a woman and her children journey to find the family’s patriarch, who was exiled years earlier.

Reaaaaaaaaally good ending here. Sansho The Bailiff is the tender and cruel journey of a ruling family stripped away from one another and sold into slavery, desperate to reconnect. What transpires is an almost Biblical tale (think David but in feudal Japan), where daughter and son must overcome adversity while holding true to the mantra instilled by their father: “Without mercy, man is like a beast. Even if you are hard on yourself, be merciful to others.” That word — Mercy — and how you choose to deliver it is the narrative thread weaving this story, especially in the latter half when the son, Zoichi, is able to finally put those words to action.

The titular character, Sansho, is actually the villain of the film, being the despicable official and slave owner of the daughter and son. His heartlessness and cruelty was built up well, and I was extremely excited to see justice finally served. His son who left and became a monk was a minor role but one that really stood out to me and helped reinforce the theme of choice — we all contain the power to choose love over hate, no matter the upbringing or circumstance. The overall story felt so raw and bittersweet, and I think it ended beautifully on a heartbreaking shot that still contained a sense of hope. There’s a lot of other themes explored such as what identity means, as the characters have multiple name changes and are stripped of their background and reinvented into what society deemed as worthless (or worth about 7 silver, I guess). Names hold power, but we hold power over names, and rising above the system instead of falling victim to it is an inspiring message that I feel is still extremely valuable in today’s society that rewards homogenization and falling in line. Be the change!

Watch if you Like — Worker’s rights, never switching up on your Day 1s

dir. Hiroshi Teshigahara — 1966

A businessman with a disfigured face obtains a lifelike mask from his new doctor, but the mask starts altering his personality and causing him to question his identity.

Wow. A psychological nightmare about the masks we wear, the reality we try to escape, and the people we desperately want to become, The Face of Another is hauntingly beautiful, truly “Every Frame A Painting.” The shots are meticulously crafted in all aspects, from the set design, camera angles, reflections, and scenery, capturing a man decaying in real time as he desperately clings to the hope of a new life. Tatsuya Nakadai gives a great (and creepy) performance that teeters on the border between sane and full-on crazy, which is astounding considering the entire film is hinged mostly on the emotion from his eyes. As the bandages come off and his second chance on life is sculpted onto him, a hopeful moment quickly turns into the reveal of Frankenstein’s monster. For you can change a man’s face, but you can’t change the man inside.

The sub-plot with the young girl, also with a face deformity, I found to add another layer of context to the filmmaking and underlying look at post-war Japan. It’s implied her face was harmed during the bombings of Nagasaki, and the striking imagery calls back to that time and feeling in Japan of being unsure of the future, if Japan would continue to persevere and be beautiful while being able to wear their wounds with pride instead of shame. It felt very Lynchian, specifically Twin Peaks The Return: Episode 8 (if you know, you know). I thought it was also interesting how the film drives home the point of finding peace through within as opposed to outward desires, from re-contextualizing the “mask” of putting on makeup as a sign of self-respect to the only happy people depicted being the mentally handicapped who are perfectly content in their own little worlds. It’s a sad film, and one I will most definitely need another viewing of to catch all the subtleties and imagery. Hiroshi Teshigahara sure can make a movie.

Watch if you Like — Disguises, experimental clinical trials