As much as I love Horror stories from around the world, I’ll still admit that I’ve always had a bit of a struggle with traditional Japanese ghost stories.
It isn’t that I dislike them because that’s about as far from the truth as one could get. Still, I’ve had issues with a good many of the ones I’ve seen over the years for many reasons. In some cases, ghosts steal too much of the focus, so I get to learn very little about the fleshy folks who encounter them. At other times, the background and/or mythology of just how these ghosts came to be is a bit elusive if not downright vague; and, thus, I struggle to understand the significance of this particular story or that particular spectral ability. In their defense, I’ve always remarked that they’re usually very stylish, and their producers go to great lengths to depict this bridging between two realities in wonderfully visual ways: but if I can’t relate to the characters in any meaningful way then it devolves into a great deal of pomp and circumstance that, frankly, I could do without. They’re good … but they’re not good enough.
This being October – that famed time of year with ghosts and goblins and ghouls take center stage – I do have a good number of releases on tap for my and your enjoyment; and I’m particularly thrilled that the fine folks at Radiance Films have provided me with a complimentary screening copy of their forthcoming Daiei Gothic: Japanese Ghost Stories. This set – which is advertised to release to the consumer marketplace on October 29, 2024 – showcases three films that I’ve heard of but never had the pleasure to watch much less review; and that’s about to change. I’ll be spending some time with it in the days ahead, so I encourage readers to watch this space for what promises to be some wonderfully spooky content to help set the mood for the forthcoming Halloween silly season.
Next up: 1959’s The Ghost Of Yotsuya is a cinematic adaptation of the kabuki play, Yotsuya Kaidan, apparently a very popular Japanese ghost story that has enjoyed multiple screen editions from multiple directors. From what I’ve read online, this version appears to be one of the most popular incarnations – if, indeed, not the most popular – and it was directed by the prolific storyteller Nobuo Nakagawa. The film starred Shigeru Amachi as the doomed ronin eventually complicit in the murder of his wife Oiwa (Kazuko Wakasugi) who eventually rises from the beyond to extract her form of revenge on the man.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
“The ghost of a samurai's wife takes revenge on her husband.”
Please trust me when I say that there’s a bit more complexity to the plot as IMDB.com would have you believe.
Indeed, what emerges from The Ghost Of Yotsuya is something that is theatrically remarkable in that it fairly accurately mirrors the structure of a three-act play – Act One introduces the players, Act Two heightens the conflicts, and Act Three functions mostly just to bring it all to a close – along with some respectable character development. The audience learns more about Tamiya Iemon (played by Amachi) and Oiwa (Wakasugi) as the drama unfolds; and yet I thought there still remained a strange emptiness to understanding Tamiya’s real motivation given all that he experiences. Granted, the film closes with a kinda/sorta display that – so far as his deceased wife is concerned – he’s achieved redemption; but I still would’ve liked to have known a bit more about his make-up as the first and second acts were a bit uneven.
(Editor’s note: I find it interesting – only as an aside – to point out that the original play upon which the film is based is, in fact, cited as having five acts on Wikipedia.org. I can’t speak to how that might mirror the film’s narrative structure as, for me, the three-act association works ideally.)
When we first meet Tamiya, he’s a bit full of himself, showing up at her father’s palace asking for her hand in marriage. After he is refused and insulted, he ends up murdering the older man and he collaborates with another to cover up his misdeeds in such a way that Oiwa falls in love with him, paving the way for their nuptials. Sadly, it isn’t long into their marital relationship that the samurai decides he covets a different woman – Oume (Junko Ikeuchi) – to be his bride, and this leads him to conspire once more with the scheming Naosuke (Shuntarô Emi) with a new plot, this one casting Oiwa in an adulterous relationship with the lowly servant/friend Takuetsu (Jun Ôtomo). Such a betrayal can only result in their shared deaths, leaving Tamiya now free to act on his feelings for Oume.
Well, this is a ghost story, after all, and it’s at this point – fairly late in the picture, I might add – that the supernatural skullduggery begins. The spectrally reanimated Oiwa infects the mind of her murderous husband, producing hallucinations which force him to draw his sword in perceived defense against her ghostly form again and again, actions which results in a growing number of victims. While the wait for some samurai action and the narrative payoff was quite long, the closing twenty minutes are a legitimate ‘fever dream’ experience. Unable to escape not even his guilty conscience, Tamiya Iemon eventually lies dead on the floor wherein the ghostly form of his late wife virtually embraces him – via her haunted kimono – in the closing scenes.
Still, my greatest problem – besides the fact that two-thirds of the picture is far more melodrama than anything else – is with the central character of Tamiya Iemon.
As he is arguably the picture’s lead, I would’ve expected there to be a bit more explanation behind what makes the samurai tick. Because I’ve watched a good number of samurai pictures, I have preconceived notions about what they stand for; and things like justice, integrity, and honor immediately spring to mind. Because Tamiya is a ronin – meaning a ‘masterless’ samurai – it stands to reason that he’s sadly inherited a bit of failure along the way. But did he kill his former master? What were the circumstances of that man’s disappearance? (If it was explained, then I’ll admit to having fully missed it, a reality that can sometimes happen with translations.) Certainly, something must account for Tamiya’s restlessness – both as a warrior and a husband – but the script really provides no explanation. For me, that was a void that should’ve been filled.
Of course, I’m not trying to suggest that The Ghost Of Yotsuya is a flawed picture. It’s understandable to see why Nakagawa’s adaptation is highly regarded: while I found it personally a bit slow in the set-up, there were a great number of details established surrounding its characters, setting, and circumstances, and that takes time. My complaint is that I kept looking for a greater explanation as to why Tamiya was a bit of a jerk more often than not, and that question was never satisfactorily answered in any way. Having painted him as an antihero may’ve worked fine for some, but I expected a bit more clarity given the fact that I spent so much time with him. In the end, he remains as nebulous as his is villainous, and I find that incomplete.
- New interview with filmmaker Kiyoshi Kurosawa
- A visual essay on the history and adaptations of the classic Ghost of Yotsuya story by author Kyoko Hirano
- Trailer
- Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Filippo Di Battista
As I was provided with an industry copy, I always remind readers that I’m not typically provided the physical inserts, booklets, and artwork. As such, I can’t speak about the efficacy of those items.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
With respect to The Ghost Of Yotsuya (1959), I have to admit to being a bit underwhelmed. While it’s an exceedingly well-made film, the story simply never moved me in the same way other pictures have; and I kept questioning what in the name of Sam Hill was going on in the mind of Tamiya Iemon. While I think it’s perfectly fine to engage the audience with the degree of set-up required for the last act’s pay-off, I still can’t help but wonder about why this man did what he did. Filling that one simply hole might’ve made for a better viewing, but in lieu of any sufficient explanation all I’m left with is wonder. Great ghost bits … but I needed a touch more with the living and breathing souls who made this one what it was.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Radiance Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Ghost Of Yotsuya (1959) – as part of their Daiei Gothic: Japanese Ghost Stories – by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ