Mad, Bad, and Dangerous: Woman of the Lake

A pretty young wife and an older, well-heeled husband are usually a recipe for trouble on the big screen. Indeed, adultery is a frequent occurrence in the Japanese New Wave films of actress-producer Mariko Okada directed by her collaborator-husband Kiju Yoshida. True to form, infidelity and betrayal drive Yoshida’s Woman of the Lake, which screens this Sunday as part of the Japan Society’s Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know: Three Untamed Beauties, a fascinating retrospective of three bold postwar actresses whose films defied traditional cultural stereotypes for Japanese women.

Miyako Mizuki does not love her husband. Bored, she finds distraction, but not satisfaction in the arms of another man. One fateful night, she allows him to take compromising photos of her, but insists on handling the development herself. Unfortunately, on her way home she is accosted by a strange man, who steals her purse with the negatives inside. Soon enough, the thief turns blackmailer, using the negatives to lure Mizuki to the Katayamazu resort town. However, his ultimate motives remain obscure.

Often seen in a waifish white dress, Okada’s Mizuki looks like a vision of purity. Yet, she is far more complicated than she might appear. It should not be giving much away to say she is indeed dangerous to know, given the title of the film series. Manipulative and vulnerable in equal measure, Okada perfectly calibrates her portrayal, keeping viewers consistently off-balance. It is exactly the kind of challenging performance the Mad, Bad series is all about.

Based on a novel by Nobel Prize winner Yasunari Kawabata, Lake incorporates elements of film noir and the intimately observed relationship drama, addressing very adult themes with a frankness that still seems provocative over forty years later. Tatsuo Suzuki’s gorgeous black-and-white cinematography is visually striking, following well within the noir tradition, while Sei Ikeno’s sparse flute themes create a disconcerting sense of apprehension. It is an example of masterful filmmaking.

Like Ayako Wakao whose films launched the Mad, Bad series, Okada was a beautiful and challenging actress, whose roles defied social norms, remaining enormously influential to this day. Having a rare opportunity to see great films like Lake that are not currently available on DVD here in America has been a gift to cineastes. Lake screens at the Japan Society this Sunday (4/18), followed by the series closer, Yasuzo Masumura’s Two Wives, starring both Okada and Wakao.

(Photos © Shochi Co. Ltd.)

Mad, Bad, and Dangerous: Impasse

A sweet-tempered little boy, Takashi will hopefully never know the trouble he caused. He is the product of the then (1967) unheard of process of artificial insemination, and his mother will not let his ostensive father forget it. Indeed, stereotypes of the nobly suffering mother are turned on their head in Kiju Yoshida’s Impasse, which screens as part of the Japan Society’s, Bad, and Dangerous to Know: Three Untamed Beauties, their continuing retrospective of three Japanese actresses whose work pointedly challenged traditional cinematic roles for Japanese women.

Originally, it was Ibuki’s idea to try artificial insemination. With the arrival of Takashi, everything initially seemed to work out just fine. However, his mother Ritsuko is haunted by the notion that she knows the donor-father and was in some sense intimate with him (either physically or metaphorically. The tension between her and Ibuki only gets worse when their supposed friends the Sakaguchis visit.

In many ways, Impasse (a.k.a. Flame and Woman) suggests Godard at his more restrained. Through the lens of cinematographer Yuji Okumura, their house resembles a weird collaboration between Frank Lloyd Wright and M.C. Esher, with its constant play of light and shadows cast at striking angles. For long stretches, Yoshida eschews dialogues, lovingly capturing the ambient outside noises. At other times, the background noise drops out in favor of dialogue rendered through eerie voice-overs. Yet despite the bold stylistic elements, it is the couple’s increasingly bitter drama that really leaves a mark.

Even in translation, the gist of what Ritsuko says is scaldingly clear. Her contempt and resentment is palpable. Like Ayako Wakao and Yasuzo Masumura, Mariko Okada and Yoshida had a long and fruitful collaborator as leaders of the so-called Japanese “New Wave” movement. Projecting inner turmoil while maintaining an icy, severe demeanor, she is a withering presence in Impasse. Yet, Mayumi Ogawa’s Shina Sakaguchi might be even madder, badder, and more dangerous to know. Capricious and maybe a bit insane, she is a viscerally disconcerting presence throughout the film.

While at times visually gorgeous, Impasse cuts like a knife. These are people who know exactly what to say to hurt each other. Fascinating and engrossing, it is a surprisingly frank film even by contemporary standards. Genuine art-cinema featuring a searing lead performance from Okada, Impasse is highly recommended. The first of three Okada-Yoshida collaborations programmed during Mad, Bad, it screens at the Japan Society this coming Wednesday (4/14).