When you think it took half a century for the greatest ambassador of Japanese cinema to settle with color, you might regard that choice with unfair suspicion and Teinosuke Kinugasa's "Gate of Hell" might strike as a rather conventional production for its time.
Indeed, its sweeping epic opening is painted with such a flamboyant palette of colors that a cynical mind would keep a certain distance, even believing that the feast to the eyes is only a fig leaf for a rather simplistic plot or the commercial ambition of a good Technicolor Japanese export (the film was photographed by Eastman cameras). But that would be a misjudgment despite the very fact that it was the first Japanese film in color released internationally and earning the country its first Great Prize at Cannes.
Sure, there is no denial of Kurosawa's importance on the field of cinematic conventions, but there's no doubt either that "Gate of Hell" is a marvelously crafted film, with still frames that have the astonishingly authentic look of medieval paintings and an opening showing rebellious soldiers attacking a castle, running so fast at the panic-stricken inhabitants the screen had the blurriness of Robert Capa's Normandy pictures... who could also be indifferent to the aerial shot of horsemen escaping the castle and running below green foliage; a single shot that has the 'clear line' delicacy and sense of detail of the Great Wave of Kanagawa? Kingasa also gratifies us with a spellbinding horse race that would turn sport cameramen green jealous, even the background seems in a hurry to keep track on them.
Such images can't be the product of luck or technical mastery alone, it is obvious despite its short runtime that this is a movie that took time to be made to offer us such a dazzling and vibrant imagery. As for the plot, well, it it simple, it tells basically a triangular love, a loyal Samurai Moritoh Eda (Kazuo Hasegawa) has a love at first sight with a court lady named Kesa (Mashiko Kyo) who was escorted out of the castle to pass as the King's sister (a device that would remind Kurosawa fans of "Kagemusha"). Eda's loyalty pays off and you can see his eyes burning for the young and vulnerable lady-in-waiting; unbeknownst to him, she's already married to an imperial guard Samurai Wataru Watanebe (Isao Yamagata) and so the only wish he asked as a reward couldn't be fulfilled and it doesn't take a Japanese historian to know what marriage duties meant at the time.
But strangely enough, that doesn't stop Eda, who for a reason that escapes even the viewer, can't resign to himself to forget the beautiful woman. It would be easier for us to accept his passion was she married to an abuser but her husband is a rather patient and reasonable man played by the most serene and badass of the seven samurai (the sword expert). If the plot is simple, we're puzzled by the status of the protagonist, who slowly descends to villainous territories in this film, once the backstory of the rebellion reveals itself to be just a foil for us, a sort of McGuffin, it's just as if we were fooled by the director himself who made us expect some Japanese swashbuckler in the great Jidageiki tradition. But this is a love story or maybe a story of love and tragedy.
And at the center of this collision between passion and reason, there's Kesa, the lady from "Rashomon" who lives in the convenient quietness of a woman abandoning herself to her duty and can't understand why she would inspire such passion. Does she love her husband? It's rather irrelevant at that time where hierarchy extended to marital conventions. Does she hate Eda? She would though but does she? Kyo plays that woman with a performance that might be too subtle. Her mouth is so tiny it barely hints at what she thinks and she remains a mystery, but there's something about her, in the way she plucks these chords, in her relative abandonment that makes her so passive and yet she's ironically the most active character, because reason stops .... And passion blinds ..... The way the film ends is puzzling but reveals the true nature of "Gate of Hell", something deeper that what it shows first, or what it might tell through some unnecessary expository dialogues here and there.
I read reviewers complaining about the slow opening, it is true but that's the paradox of a film whose epic opening doesn't prepare you for its introspective conclusion, nor for its complex range of emotions. A film with such an action-packed opening you might not see the ending coming, it's not a twist, it's a little more.
"Gate of Hell" might feel dated by our standards, not "original" enough for those who enjoy Kurosawa film but there's passion in it and if you don't get it from the main character, you might get it at least for the efforts put to make one of the first masterpieces in color in Japan. It might not be re-watchable, but one movie lover can't refuse such a film.
Indeed, its sweeping epic opening is painted with such a flamboyant palette of colors that a cynical mind would keep a certain distance, even believing that the feast to the eyes is only a fig leaf for a rather simplistic plot or the commercial ambition of a good Technicolor Japanese export (the film was photographed by Eastman cameras). But that would be a misjudgment despite the very fact that it was the first Japanese film in color released internationally and earning the country its first Great Prize at Cannes.
Sure, there is no denial of Kurosawa's importance on the field of cinematic conventions, but there's no doubt either that "Gate of Hell" is a marvelously crafted film, with still frames that have the astonishingly authentic look of medieval paintings and an opening showing rebellious soldiers attacking a castle, running so fast at the panic-stricken inhabitants the screen had the blurriness of Robert Capa's Normandy pictures... who could also be indifferent to the aerial shot of horsemen escaping the castle and running below green foliage; a single shot that has the 'clear line' delicacy and sense of detail of the Great Wave of Kanagawa? Kingasa also gratifies us with a spellbinding horse race that would turn sport cameramen green jealous, even the background seems in a hurry to keep track on them.
Such images can't be the product of luck or technical mastery alone, it is obvious despite its short runtime that this is a movie that took time to be made to offer us such a dazzling and vibrant imagery. As for the plot, well, it it simple, it tells basically a triangular love, a loyal Samurai Moritoh Eda (Kazuo Hasegawa) has a love at first sight with a court lady named Kesa (Mashiko Kyo) who was escorted out of the castle to pass as the King's sister (a device that would remind Kurosawa fans of "Kagemusha"). Eda's loyalty pays off and you can see his eyes burning for the young and vulnerable lady-in-waiting; unbeknownst to him, she's already married to an imperial guard Samurai Wataru Watanebe (Isao Yamagata) and so the only wish he asked as a reward couldn't be fulfilled and it doesn't take a Japanese historian to know what marriage duties meant at the time.
But strangely enough, that doesn't stop Eda, who for a reason that escapes even the viewer, can't resign to himself to forget the beautiful woman. It would be easier for us to accept his passion was she married to an abuser but her husband is a rather patient and reasonable man played by the most serene and badass of the seven samurai (the sword expert). If the plot is simple, we're puzzled by the status of the protagonist, who slowly descends to villainous territories in this film, once the backstory of the rebellion reveals itself to be just a foil for us, a sort of McGuffin, it's just as if we were fooled by the director himself who made us expect some Japanese swashbuckler in the great Jidageiki tradition. But this is a love story or maybe a story of love and tragedy.
And at the center of this collision between passion and reason, there's Kesa, the lady from "Rashomon" who lives in the convenient quietness of a woman abandoning herself to her duty and can't understand why she would inspire such passion. Does she love her husband? It's rather irrelevant at that time where hierarchy extended to marital conventions. Does she hate Eda? She would though but does she? Kyo plays that woman with a performance that might be too subtle. Her mouth is so tiny it barely hints at what she thinks and she remains a mystery, but there's something about her, in the way she plucks these chords, in her relative abandonment that makes her so passive and yet she's ironically the most active character, because reason stops .... And passion blinds ..... The way the film ends is puzzling but reveals the true nature of "Gate of Hell", something deeper that what it shows first, or what it might tell through some unnecessary expository dialogues here and there.
I read reviewers complaining about the slow opening, it is true but that's the paradox of a film whose epic opening doesn't prepare you for its introspective conclusion, nor for its complex range of emotions. A film with such an action-packed opening you might not see the ending coming, it's not a twist, it's a little more.
"Gate of Hell" might feel dated by our standards, not "original" enough for those who enjoy Kurosawa film but there's passion in it and if you don't get it from the main character, you might get it at least for the efforts put to make one of the first masterpieces in color in Japan. It might not be re-watchable, but one movie lover can't refuse such a film.