Japanese
diplomat Chiune “Sempo” Sugihara was forbidden entry by the Soviets, expelled
by the Germans, and demoted by his own foreign ministry. Those events certainly
buttress a favorable judgement from history, but they did not do his career any
favors. Sugihara was ill-advisedly principled throughout his diplomatic tenure,
but his decision to issue travel visas to Jewish refugees while serving as the
Japanese consul in Lithuania earned him recognition as one of the Righteous
Among the Nations at Yad Vashem. Sugihara’s pre-war exploits and wartime
heroics are chronicled in Cellin Gluck’s Persona
Non Grata: The Chiune Sugihara Story (trailer here), which screens
during the first ever Kew Gardens Festival of Cinema.
Fluent
in Russian and well educated in Russian history, Sugihara aspired to a Russian
posting. However, his intelligence gathering in Manchuria, with respect to the
disposition of the Northern Manchuria Railroad, bitterly antagonized the
Soviets. As a result, he was declared persona non grata before he was even posted
to Russia. Instead, Sugihara was dispatched to Lithuania, a convenient vantage-point
for watching the Soviets.
Initially,
Kaunas is quite pleasant for Sugihara and his wife Yukiko. He quickly comes to
an arrangement with Pesh, a maybe not-so-former Polish intelligence officer,
who helps Sugihara keep tabs on the Russians and Germans, in exchange for the
occasional travel document. By the time Jewish refugees, primarily but not
exclusively from Poland start flooding Kaunas, Sugihara heads the only still
functioning quasi-neutral consulate. Although the Tripartite Pact is an acknowledged
inevitability, Sugihara starts issuing travel visas to the refugees, as quickly
as he and his staff can stamp them.
Not
surprisingly, the Foreign Ministry is less than ecstatic over his actions, but
they transfer him to a sensitive posting in Germany anyway. Obviously, saving
thousands of lives is a big deal, but there is even more to his story. In fact,
the Prussian section is unexpectedly fascinating, because it offers up a very
different perspective on the War.
Through
Sugihara’s Cassandra-like warnings to his superiors, Gluck and co-screenwriters
Tetsuro Kamata and Hiromichi Matsuo suggest Japan always considered Russia
their natural enemy, which made the Molotov-Ribbentrop non-aggression pact
awkward, but ironically desirable. According to the film, they were counting on
Germany’s help against the Americans and British in the Pacific, but when
Hitler attacked Russia, it consigned them to facing the Yanks (and Brits) alone,
thereby sealing their fate. Apparently, his analysis of German intentions did
not sit well with the National Socialists, who also declared Sugihara persona
non grata.
Admittedly,
a figure like Sugihara would be intimidating to portray, but Toshiaki Karasawa
largely plays it safe (and rather stiffly). However, Koyuki is terrific as
Yukiko, Sugihara’s wife and his conscience when he needs it. She perfectly
delivers a pivotal exchange—too quiet and humanistic to be called a big speech—that
could earn her award consideration if anyone picks up Gluck’s film. Borys Szyc
is also compulsively watchable as the slightly roguish but deeply earnest Pesh.
