Introduction
Japanese religious ideals are rooted in its cultural past, but were changed or exaggerated drastically during the Meiji Restoration and later decades of the Militarist regime. Post-war Japanese cinema shows these changes and scrutinizes and criticizes the things that were lost or changed beyond recognition during these troubled years. The religious traditions or obsessive followings that defined Japan since ancient times or in recent years are represented with varying degrees of sympathy, ridicule, or even fear. Shinto is not often discussed, but exists in the background as a symbol of the State Shinto and deified Emperor from the turn of the century. The fanatic obsessions with Militarism and Nationalism that defined war-time politics and society, arguably a religion in the vein of Communism and totalitarian government, are questioned and contrasted to more rational and humanist schools of thought. Finally, Buddhism gathers the most sympathetic representation because of the contrastingly peaceful and compassionate doctrines, providing an explanation for the Japanese people’s suffering and also providing a way out of their worst times.
Three films from the post-war Golden Age of Japanese cinema show these religious themes in the context of simple stories in ancient or more contemporary settings. Mizoguchi Kenji’s classic masterpieces Ugestu (Ugestu Monogatari 1953) and Sansho the Bailiff (Sanshō Dayū 1954) are quintessential to understanding the sentiments of his time, to see all the influences, ancient and contemporary, acting upon the Japanese people: Shinto, fanatic Militarism, and Buddhism. Sansho is one of the only films that examined Shinto, and even that very briefly. Ugetsu is useful in shedding light on the nature of fanaticism, in showing its source, duration, and lasting consequences. Ichikawa Kon’s The Burmese Harp (Biruma no Tategoto 1956) is a more contemporary story but makes direct references to the Militarists and their fanatical motivations towards the shrouded future. In examining Buddhism, Sansho the Bailiff is again insightful as it reminds its audience of the core values of Buddhism and comforts them in its promise in an end to their suffering. The Burmese Harp expands on that and shows the way forward to the end by the compassionate and peaceful practices associated with Buddhism. These post-war films are masterpieces of thematic and cinematographic work, and are thus windows into the sentiments and problems on the forefront of the mind of every Japanese.
Shinto
Shinto is the oldest spiritual tradition of Japan, existing long before the coming of other religious and political influences from abroad. Having survived in various forms into the 19th Century, it was elevated to the status of official state religion during the Meiji Restoration. State Shinto affected the Japanese’s perception of the Emperor; he became the irrefutable god of the Japanese people and his “divine” words spelled disaster for the events of the 1930’s and 40’s. This particular religious tradition is not often discussed in Japanese cinema, but acts as a background reminder of the deified Emperor and his reverberating effects across Japanese society and history.
In Mizoguchi Kenji’s 1954 classic, Sansho the Bailiff Shinto is briefly referenced with pointed symbolism and a passive critique of State Shinto. The small role of the Shinto priestess is the only direct reference, but the significance of this character is great for the thematic message of the film. Shinto is important to the thematic metaphors of the film in that it is connected with all associations, including the deified Emperor. The priestess herself is evil and deceitful, and by extension, Shinto and the Emperor himself also hold this image. Although the role is small, the effects are important to the plot line and characters in the movie, as the Emperor was vastly important to Japanese politics, society, and history. Sansho includes small representation of Shinto is symbolic of State Shinto and the god-like Emperor of Japan, but the effects of both are likened to the cause of the momentous events that would follow as a consequence of their actions.Fanaticism
Another of Mizoguchi’s most famous films, Ugestu offers commentary on the nature of fanaticism and puts it in the perspective of its source, duration, and consequences. The male leads in Ugestu, Genjuro and Tobei, are rather juvenile and needlessly ambitious for their various ends, whether the glory of a samurai, or a wealthy, beautiful wife. Their portrayal is irrational, emotional and determined in achieving unrealistic goals. These goals—glory and women—come and go quickly, leaving only a vague and distant memory, but lasting consequences, in the loss of self-importance for one wife and death for the other. In pursuing unimportant and transient things to the very end, Genjuro and Tobei forget the more essential and closer-to-home entities in their lives, like their wives’ and families’ wellbeing. The women, on the other hand, are rational, thoughtful, and practical as they try to live as best they can without the help of their fanciful husbands. Mizoguchi offers a critique on the nature of fanaticism and creates an allegory for the Militarist in Japan; the male-run political system quickly leaves reason and rationality behind to follow their own ambitions and relegating their real duties to the back seat—like the general wellbeing of the general populace. The consequences of fanatic behaviors are, indeed, unfortunate as shown in history and in Ugestu. Genjuro’s wife Miyagi dies as a side effect of his absence and Tobei’s wife is forced into prostitution because he abandoned her to become a samurai. Similarly, the Japanese people are neglected and sacrificed for the cause of the Militarist parties in their government. Fanaticism in Ugestu is on a smaller scale than what ruled Japan for decades, but Mizoguchi accurately describes its causes and effects for all parties involved.
The Burmese Harp is a unique post-war film in that it directly references the war and portrays it from a soldier’s point of view. The protagonists are cast as the “good guys,” but it would not be complete without the over-zealous soldiers who refuse to surrender. This is a direct representation of the fanatic militarists that ruled Japan through war-time, and Ichikawa, like Mizoguchi, tries to shed light on the nature of their fanaticism and possible reasons for it. The Militarists are directly contrasted with the “good guys” Captain Inoue and Corporal Mizushima and make drastic departures from what is rational and benevolently-motivated to the point of idiocy and rashness. Ichikawa has some hope for them, and they are not all bad in that they do have doubts about the objects of their obsessions. The careful acting in the all-important cave scene is crucial—the wide eyed soldiers, doubtful glances toward their commander, hesitations and faltered steps forward—what does that say about fanatical militarism?
It seems the soldiers are unsure how to act, thinking about what has always been true—never to surrender—and what might have changed—the possibility of losing. Unable to think clearly on the matter, they stick to what they knew to be true and act out of a combination of fear of the consequences and their sense of duty to their defeated Emperor.The possibility of change is scary and thus incomprehensible, so they cling to their fanaticism, having been left with little else. The saddest part is that they stick to their beliefs until the very end and lose their lives for the already lost cause. This is an interesting representation of fanaticism and differs than the one in Ugestu for thehesitant steps that the Militarists make. They seem to be answering to a higher power and are blinded by their devotion to it and by their fear of losing that power. Fanaticism in Japan had that affect on the people in that everyone belonged to it, without necessarily understanding its consequences, source, or nature. Can they be blamed for this?Buddhism
We turn finally to Buddhism, which is an extremely important element in Japanese culture and likewise in Japanese cinema. Sansho the Bailiff gives insight into the importance of Buddhism in the everyday life of a Japanese, and reminds the fatigued survivors of the worst war in living memory that there is some good still left in the world. The representation of the spiritual tradition is a sympathetic one, showing Buddhist practices and figures in a good light. In the story, the Bodhisattva statues are central to the plot and thematic scheme, either of the mother figure Kannon or the child and traveler patron Jizou. The talisman that Zushio keeps around his neck is his only connection to his illustrious heritage, a reminder of his revered and benevolent father, a source of inspiration and protection when he needs it, and the object that identifies him to his mother.
Zushio’s father, himself represents a Bodhisattva—an Enlightened being who remained behind to help others reach Enlightenment, and certainly a beloved and essentially good character. Other Buddhist symbols are referenced, such as the temple and its residing monks, which give shelter and healing to Zushio when he is on the run from his former master. These slave drivers represent the institution, “The System,” if you will, that held Japan in its vice-like grip for decades before being finally defeated; thus the temple is a haven from these robotic hunters, and is one that continues to provide structure and help even after their departure. Pervading throughout the entire film is the presence of the Four Noble Truths in Buddhist theology, which decree the presence of suffering in the world and the way to end that suffering. Zushio’s father and sister had realized the path to Nirvana, and passed soundlessly from the transient world. Mizoguchi’s benevolent representation of Buddhism stands in contrast to the less than friendly ones devoted to Shinto and fanatic Militarism, and he is careful to remind his audience of the core values of peace, serenity, and compassion that Buddhism so vehemently teaches.
Like in its representation of Militarism, The Burmese Harp is literal in its representation of certain religious ideals that existed in Japan. The Japanese soldier that realizes his own path to Enlightenment and stays behind to help the Japanese that could never go home find peace is a direct reference to Bodhisattvas.
Corporal Mizushima leaves behind his material world, his former company and friends, and transcends into a higher plane of understanding that signals his passage into Nirvana. His personal sacrifice becomes irrelevant as he gains this new knowledge and sets out on his quest to bring humanity back to the world. We join Mizushima in his quest and ask the same questions that he does about the world: Why do we suffer? Why must it happen? How can we, as human beings, inflict this pain and suffering onto our fellows? Buddhism answers this easily with its premises of the Four Noble Truths. It promises an end to the suffering, in that it and everything else we hold dearest in the world will eventually slip away because of impermanence and delusions of what does matter. This spiritual journey of the audience is gradually and easily brings them back to the core teachings of Buddhism, letting them realize the disparities between that kind of life and their current situation, and giving them the inspiration to move forward in the new vein of compassion and peaceful benevolence. The suffering that pervaded the previous years has past and the only way to progress is to continue on the path to Enlightenment with love and compassion. The Burmese Harp is particularly effective in showing the Buddhist ideals that help the Japanese audience understand Buddhism at its core and be inspired to move ahead under its benevolent teachings.
Conclusion
The post-war work of Kichikawa Ken and Mizoguchi Kenji are incredibly effective in purveying the sentiments and issues of modern Japan, as they grapple with their perceptions of the past and the uncertain future. Of the religious followings of the time—Shinto, fanatic Militarism, and Buddhism—the filmmakers favor Buddhism for its teachings of peace, and its promise to the end of suffering the former two brought in the past and as a way to peace and Enlightenment in the future. Thus, the representations of Shinto and Militarism is less than sympathetic, leaning more on the audience’s perceptions of the defamed Emperor and irrational fanatic behaviors. Buddhism stands alone as the best way forward, contrasting the current and past states of suffering with benevolence and peace. While some of these ideals embody ancient principles and others reflect modern attitudes, they have nonetheless left their permanent mark on the minds and sensitivities of the Japanese people.
Some Helpful Links:
Japanese Nationalism: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_nationalism
State Shinto: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/State_Shinto
The Four Noble Truths: http://www.thebigview.com/buddhism/fourtruths.html
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