Kokuho, Oscar-Nominated for Hair and Makeup

Being a Kabuki actor and a Yakuza outwardly look like radically different ways of life, but both demand complete, unwavering commitment. One might presume Kabuki performance to be the safer calling, but there are times when it taxes two gifted rival actors to their emotional breaking points. Despite the acclaim, their art never generates wealth, but it could lead to the titular designation of “national treasure” in Lee Sang-il’s Oscar-nominated Kokuho, which opens today in theaters, from GKIDS.

Heredity is important in the Kabuki circle, so Kikuo Tachibana starts inauspiciously, as the son of a soon-to-be late Yakuza boss. Nevertheless, revered Kabuki actor Hanae Hanjiro II sees promise in the young orphan, so he takes him in as an apprentice. His talent immediately establishes Tachibana as a rival for Hanjiro’s son and presumed heir, Shunsuke Ogaki. Yet, they also develop a fast friendship. At the insistence of the Kabuki theater corporation, Hanjiro agrees to showcase Tachibana and Ogaki as the “Tohan Duo,” performing as “onnagata,” male Kabuki actors portraying female characters, a tradition originally mandated during the Shogunate era (just like in Shakespeare in Love), despite their relative inexperience.

The Tohan Duo receives rapturous ovations, but when Hanjiro choses a successor to take over his studio, he opts for Tachibana (who assumes the name Hanai Hanjiro III), over his son. At this point, Kokuho takes on Succession dimensions. In fact, without the protection Hanjiro II’s prestige based in “blood,” it is unclear whether Hanjiro III might be ultimately undone by his scandalous past.

Speaking of scandals, it is an outrage the Academy-short-listed Kokuho was not nominated for Best International Feature. It was Just an Accident remains the best of the field, but Kokuho would have been a strong #2. Alas, it must make do with the Hair and Makeup nom, which still counts a first for GKIDS.

Regardless, Kokuho is a deeply personal story that also feels epic at the same time. Decades pass, as fortunes rise and fall. (Frankly, some viewers might catch themselves doing the math to judge whether the announced flashforwards compute with the appearances of the characters, but that is minor distraction.) This is a film of roiling passions, but it also gives the audience a thorough grounding in Kabuki theater. (Yet, Kon Ichikawa’s Revenge of a Kabuki Actor still probably ranks as the greatest Kabuki film of all time, because it has similarly operatic grandeur, but adds real deal Chanbara swordplay.)

Ichikawa’s Kabuki Actor

Revenge of a Kabuki Actor
Directed by Kon Ichikawa
AniMeigo

Many consider Kon Ichikawa second only to Akira Kurosawa among the great filmmakers of Japan, but frustratingly little of his filmography is available here in America. Following the Japan Society’s mini Ichikawa retrospective this summer, the film billed as his first venture into “samurai cinema” is now available on DVD. However, Revenge of a Kabuki Actor (trailer here) is worlds away from most costume swordplay movies.

In this case, the swordsman out for revenge is not just a kabuki actor, he is an onnagata, one of the actors who played female roles on-stage, who during the era of the Tokugawa Shogunate (prior to the Meiji Restoration) were obliged to maintain their assumed gender role even when off-stage. Yukinojo Nakamura might play delicate lotus blossoms on-stage, but beneath the kimonos, he is an accomplished swordsman of muscular build. Despite attaining wide acclaim, his abiding ambition is to avenge his late parents, who were destroyed by a clique of powerful office-holders and merchants.

Learning his enemies have assumed positions of influence in Edo society, Yukinojo accepts a theatrical engagement there with the intent of attracting their patronage. However, mere killing is too good for them. Yukinojo insists on an elaborate revenge that will inflict pain and humiliation, forcing them to suffer as his parents suffered. Attacking at their most vulnerable point, he seduces Namiji, the sentimental daughter of Sansai Dobe, the most powerful of the actor’s targets. As the Shogun’s concubine, Dobe’s position is entirely dependent on her. The resulting scenes between Yukinojo and Namiji could support an entire film and gender studies academic conference.

As Yukinojo, Kazuo Hasegawa chose to return to the role he first played in the 1935 film version of the same story to mark his three hundredth film appearance. In addition, he also plays Yamitaro, essentially the Robin Hood of Edo. While Yukinojo’s rarified exterior camouflages a cold and calculating heart, Yamitaro has a hearty laugh and a Texas-sized swagger. All he seems to be missing is a parrot and an eye-patch. However, at times the dialogue winks at Hasegawa’s dual role with “you look a little like . . .” references.

Indeed, Kabuki is at times very self-referential. Ostensibly addressing the spirit of his father, Yukinojo’s voice-overs come perilously close to breaching the fourth wall. However, when the characters step out into the night world ruled by thieves and ruffians, Setsuo Kobayashi’s arresting cinematography creates a stark netherworld that is part Twilight Zone, part Beckett. Heightening the late-night ambiance is the anachronistic jazz-influenced soundtrack composed by Yasushi Akutagawa, Tamekichi Mochizuki, and Masako Yagi.

Ichikawa and Natto Wada, his wife and frequent screenwriting collaborator, crafted a sly but totally satisfying revenge tale. Well rendered on disk by AniMeigo, its wide-screen allows viewers to fully appreciate Ichikawa’s visuals, and their program notes nicely serve as footnotes to the on-screen action, explaining historical references that might be lost on many western audiences. While watching Kabuki one is constantly struck by Ichikawa’s masterful touch and the elegant craftsmanship of his crew. It is a film that deserves its reputation as a classic.

Images ©1963 Kadokawa Pictures, Inc.