Human Condition I: No Greater Love, The (1959)
 |
Review #1,347 |
THE SCOOP
Director: Masaki Kobayashi
Cast: Tatsuya Nakadai, Michiyo Aratama, Chikage Awashima
Plot: A Japanese pacifist, unable to face the dire consequences of conscientious objection, is transformed by his attempts to compromise with the demands of war-time Japan.
Genre: Drama / War
Awards: Won Pasinetti Award & San Giorgio Prize, Nom. for Golden Lion (Venice).
Runtime: 208min
Rating: Not rated (likely to be PG13 for some mature themes and intense scenes)
International Sales: Shochiku
IN RETROSPECT (Spoilers: NO)
“Can't
you see? Force has meaning only when
overcoming tyranny.”
We
see a lot of Tatsuya Nakadai, the other legendary Japanese superstar actor besides
Toshiro Mifune, here in The Human Condition,
a mammoth 9.5-hour epic split into three parts.
The director is Masaki Kobayashi, never ever mentioned in the same
breath as the likes of Kurosawa, Ozu and Mizoguchi, but has nevertheless strongly
held his weight with such films as Harakiri
(1962) and Kwaidan (1964).
The Human Condition is
no doubt his most admirable feat, and judging by the first film alone, any
sense of how lengthy it would feel to tackle the trilogy is cast away by its
page-turner style of storytelling. No Greater Love, as it is titled, is the
longest of the trio. The complete epic is
adapted from Junpei Gomikawa’s six-volume book of the same name, hence its
novelistic nature.
Nakadai
embodies the character of Kaji, a man who if given a choice would lead everyone
to peace. But it is wartime, WWII
precisely, and any logical or ethical notion of humanity is thrown away. Set largely in a labour camp with Chinese
workers toiling under the brutal hands of the Japanese, The Human Condition is an anti-war treatise and a chronicler of one
man’s futile fight against a gargantuan, uncompromising system.
In
order to escape being conscripted to fight in the war, Kaji is sent to the camp
to improve production goals. On the first
day, he comes in with theoretical confidence in his method—treat all
prisoners-of-war nicely, and they will work hard to produce the goods. Kaji's radical ideas are put to the test with
much controversy, not to mention creating a debilitating sense of mistrust by
both the Japanese and the Chinese.
All
these make up the drama that powers the film for its length. There are some incredibly potent scenes that
unfold with heartbreaking intensity. One
of them involves a cattle train pulling up in the countryside (we learn that it
brings a new batch of Chinese slaves), but when the doors open, it is a
harrowing sight of countless malnourished and suffocated zombie-like men who
seem to not have seen the light of day.
Another
involves an order to behead a group of Chinese men who were alleged to have
tried to escape from the camp. This is
possibly the most riveting—in its helpless inevitability—part of the film,
almost as emotionally destructive as the climax in Kubrick’s Paths of Glory (1957).
In
a nutshell, Kobayashi’s mammoth war epic remains to be a cornerstone in the
history of Japanese cinema. If you can
complete the first film without a hitch, I’m sure you will be psyched up for
the next two.
Verdict: The first part of Kobayashi’s mammoth
humanist war epic has its fair share of powerful moments, building up to a
helpless inevitability.
GRADE: A-
Tweet
Follow @Filmnomenon
Click here to go back to Central Station.
TRAILER:
OST:
Comments