584 Kuroneko

[matrixschmatrix]

Yes, I quite liked that there was at least one samurai who figured out the game and short circuited the process, attacking Shige immediately instead of waiting through the whole process- and gets murdered anyway. The first death makes one think that we're seeing the fairy tale mode where one is punished for any actions that fall short of ideal, and one merely has to figure out the right moves to survive; that particular death makes it clear that we're seeing a different type of story altogether.

Jindianajonz: I assumed that we were seeing the cat less often (though hearing it as or more often) in the second half of the movie because at that point, the cat and the women had merged together- thus the furry arm cut off of Yone.

[Drucker]

I just read the liner notes to reacquaint myself a bit, and in the interview, Shindo mentions the importance of "even pacing" throughout the film, and that is certainly one of its strengths:

But I see film as an art of montage which consists of a dialectic or interaction between the movement and nonmovement of the image. Probably in order to sustain the even tempo of the film, I have used this idea in the soundtrack.

The first 30 minutes or so of the film really are masterful and just so patient. Which is interesting, because in the essasy on the film, the author mentions that the film is of a genre described as such:

...wasn't the first film to be rooted in Japanese folk stories about onryo, the vengeful spirits of those who were abused in life, usually women, whose rage is so great it can't be contained.

To me, the film is incredibly patient and well-paced. As has been mentioned, Shindo lets us see different samurai go through different (losing) trials with the spirits. At the beginning, we really get a sense of the evil, ruthless, almost animal-like nature of the samurai as they watch in awe as each other have their way with the women. Isn't it interesting that a story built on animal/spiritual instinct; a story where the killer ghosts are filled with rage so great they can't be contained; a story where a samurai can't control himself against lusting after his wife's spirit...is as patient and well-paced as Shindo intended? To me it says a lot about the film's strength. And even though the pacing changes dramatically once the son is introduced in battle, the film never loses its footing, and is able to change tone and remain interesting.

[Mr Sausage]

Jindianajonz: I assumed that we were seeing the cat less often (though hearing it as or more often) in the second half of the movie because at that point, the cat and the women had merged together- thus the furry arm cut off of Yone.

I assume the cat had imbued the women with its spirit, or something, so that they are always in a way cat-people, or at least animated by the cat's power. I think their human form is a bit of a disguise, that if their essence was revealed it'd be cat-like.

[Black Hat]

Has nobody have a thought on the ending, by which I meant his death?

I don't know if the film is a complex indictment of the political dimensions of samurai culture, or even of gender really.

That's the whole point, the film's simplicity, told from the perspective of regular people, in ways they can relate to is what gave its attacks sincerity. How many times were the lines the samurai do nothing but kill indiscriminately repeated by the women? Why is their deal with the devil not just to kill them but to drink their blood? On top of that you have the caricature of the great samurai hero which is a running joke throughout the film or the whimsical, comical, foolish way Gintoki becomes a samurai in the first place. Everything leading to the film's end which has Gintoki lying dead on charred out ruins exactly like his wife and mother but not dead from an attack or with the honor of battle but dead from chasing his own ghosts. Considering the impact samurai culture, with its strong adherence to tradition, has had to this very day on Japanese culture, it's quite clear that Shindo was getting his shots in at the hypocrisy of it all. A really remarkable film.

[jindianajonz]

This is a film, like A Woman Ascends the Stairs, that makes me wish I had more of a background in Japanese culture and history. I don't want to dwell on the nerdy technicalities of how a cat turns a person into a ghost, but I definitely feel like my lack of knowledge of the subject kept me at a distance on the film; probably similar to how a person unfamiliar with vampire folklore would probably wonder why people in a horror film kept hanging garlic around, while waiting for an explanation for this bizarre behavior to appear.

It is interesting that the conflict in this movie is orchestrated by the social elites (they made the war that led to Shige and Yone getting raped and murdered, and they elevated Hachi to samurai and ordered him to go after the ghost) yet they go largely unpunished by the events of the film. Minamoto isn't even particuarly bothered by the deaths of his four retainers; he just quickly elevates another commoner to samurai and goes about his business. The suggestion that the elite and their samurai are necessary to protect the public is shown to be absurd by the events of the movie, and it is not surprising to learn from the interview in the booklet that Shindo is a Marxist.

Regarding the ending, I would argue that more than chasing his own ghosts, Gintoki died due his own ambition. I think any connection he felt with his ghost mother was severed along with her arm. Instead of chasing his own ghosts, Gintoki was chasing after the carrot of social elevation that Minamoto dangled in front of him. Earlier in the movie the women were torn by the fact that Gintoki was both a samurai and family member; I think the ending emphasizes the fact that Hachi the family member is gone, and only Gintoki the samurai remains.

[Mr Sausage]

Regarding the ending, I would argue that more than chasing his own ghosts, Gintoki died due his own ambition. I think any connection he felt with his ghost mother was severed along with her arm. Instead of chasing his own ghosts, Gintoki was chasing after the carrot of social elevation that Minamoto dangled in front of him. Earlier in the movie the women were torn by the fact that Gintoki was both a samurai and family member; I think the ending emphasizes the fact that Hachi the family member is gone, and only Gintoki the samurai remains.

As one of the least ambitious of samurai, I would say no, he wasn't. Being threatened with death if he doesn't succeed is the more likely motivator. So there's a sense that just being a samurai, even a well-intentioned, well-behaved one, is an inescapable poison.

On top of that you have the caricature of the great samurai hero which is a running joke throughout the film or the whimsical, comical, foolish way Gintoki becomes a samurai in the first place.

What's comical or whimsical about how Gintoki becomes a samurai? It seemed desperate and terrifying to me, and in that a far more realistic depiction of battle than you tend to get in samurai films. He survived by taking advantage of luck.

I think viewing the story as Gintoki's comeuppance is the wrong track. It's one of the film's ambiguities that, despite the strong moral basis for the story, it doesn't resolve into a clear act of justice or retribution. It hovers somewhere between bad luck and fate, in the folk-tale sense, although I can't tell which one is central, if either. Certainly the ghosts fulfill their earlier, questioning statement about whether Gintoki still has to be killed since he is a samurai. But since both try to avoid yet end up committing anyway, who's the joke supposed to be on? And why is Gintoki returned to the scene of the original crime (the primal scene I guess you could say) when he not only didn't help commit it, and was an earlier victim of the same mentality that caused it, but lost as much by it as anyone. It's an ending that makes perfect sense if the leader of the original band of samurai ended up dead on the spot of the original crime. As it stands, tho', it's an odd one.

[jindianajonz]

Didn't Gintoki eliminate the threat of death when he brought the arm back? I was under the impression that Minamoto believed the ghosts were dead when Gintoki brought the arm back, thus his asking Gintoki to go through a purification ritual (which i took to be a kind of feudal Japanese version of a debriefing) instead of ordering him to continue his quest to kill the ghosts. I didn't think that he was ordered to purify under the threat of death, though you can correct me if I am mistaken.

Though I wouldn't use the word whimsical, I think the way Hachi became a samurai was darkly comical. Shindo tears down the stereotype of samurai being noble heroes and makes his samurai a guy who happens to be the last one left alive. I think that's a rather subversive view that goes against, for example, the samurai movies of kurosawa. Being elevated to the status of samurai has nothing to do with personal fortitude or conviction, it's just an arbitrary luck of the draw process.

[Mr Sausage]

Didn't Gintoki eliminate the threat of death when he brought the arm back? I was under the impression that Minamoto believed the ghosts were dead when Gintoki brought the arm back, thus his asking Gintoki to go through a purification ritual (which i took to be a kind of feudal Japanese version of a debriefing) instead of ordering him to continue his quest to kill the ghosts. I didn't think that he was ordered to purify under the threat of death, though you can correct me if I am mistaken.

That ambition enters into none of the things above is the point.

Though I wouldn't use the word whimsical, I think the way Hachi became a samurai was darkly comical. Shindo tears down the stereotype of samurai being noble heroes and makes his samurai a guy who happens to be the last one left alive. I think that's a rather subversive view that goes against, for example, the samurai movies of kurosawa. Being elevated to the status of samurai has nothing to do with personal fortitude or conviction, it's just an arbitrary luck of the draw process.

I guess it's comical. But aside from that I don't see anything above that I've disagreed with. It's not a subtle moment--I think we all understood what was happening.

[jindianajonz]

That ambition enters into none of the things above is the point.

If he is no longer under the threat of death from Minamoto, then the only reason he has to fulfill the purification ritual is maintenance of social status.

[Mr Sausage]

That ambition enters into none of the things above is the point.

If he is no longer under the threat of death from Minamoto, then the only reason he has to fulfill the purification ritual is maintenance of social status.

He's told by his superior to undergo a religious ritual of purification after battling an evil spirit. Ambition is an unnecessary explanation for why he agrees, especially considering he has no reason not to agree.

[Shrew]

The problem with viewing all this as an indictment of samurai culture is that samurai culture is essentially an anachronism thrown back onto the past. It's similar to how right-wing Christians in America lay claim to the "Founding Fathers" or ignore how "In God We Trust" and "One Nation Under God" are only 20th century phenomenon. Or how the outlaws and criminals in the West came to be depicted by John Wayne. A myth is created about history to support a current ideology. While I'm not an expert in Japanese history, I think that it's not until the later 19th/early 20th centuries and the rise of Japanese Nationalism and subsequent militarism that the samurai really become codified in the way we see them today.

Thus, it's better to describe the criticism of the samurai in film as criticism of the "depiction of samurai" in the other films and culture at the time. Just as revisionist Westerns were more about critiquing the John Wayne image of the cowboy than any reality or history of the West. That saidIf you really want to push a social agenda on the film, I think there's a stronger argument to be made that the samurai are just shoo-ins for the Japanese military in WWII and their war crimes.

Ultimately, I think the film is less interested in attacking samurai specifically, and more about how guilt should be assigned to institutions or individuals, and who should be held responsible. The women constantly repeat how despicable samurai are, but they're also demonic spirits of vengeance out specifically to get back at samurai, so it's not like their words can be taken without a grain of salt. They lay blame to the whole institution of the samurai, but Gintoki is evidence that that means putting relative innocents to death as well by association. He's not overly ambitious or villainous, he's simply damned by being part of the samurai institution--caught up in a cycle of vengeance he had no hand in. By cutting back to the burnt-out house, it becomes clear that his fate was sealed when these women were raped and murdered. The ambiguity of the film is that it leaves open the question of whether it was the samurai institution that is to blame (thus justifying the women's revenge and Gintoki's death), or the individuals who committed the act (thus making Gintoki's death tragic).

[Drucker]

For me, Kuroneko really seemed above all, a film about the compulsion of nature...and animal instincts in human (or ghosts as human) things.

Some of the most important parts of the story involve fulfilling a need. The ghosts kill because, as the liner notes say, they are compelled to. The samurai at the beginning, after drinking and eating, go right into pillaging, just allowing their lust to take over. When Gintoki defeats his enemy early on, he is an animal being hunted and engaged in a fight for his life. When he has the chance to attack, he does. Nearly all samurai at the beginning who allow themselves to be tricked by the ghost are again swayed by lust.

And then Gintoki, above all, seeks the touch of his wife more than anything. I also found his wife's reaction to their sex, however, attuned to nature. The way I interpreted it, the ghosts had an "itch", per se, that can only be scratched by killing the samurai. However, it almost seemed that sex achieved the same ends as killing the samurai did. The first time they make love in the film, Gintoki's wife is crying, as if again to show that her animalistic urges have been satiated. And is it any coincidence that the dance the mother performs while satisfying the sexual urge seems to be the same dance that she performs when Gintoki's wife is murdering samurai?

I do think that fate played a cruel role in the film. When Gintoki first encounters his wife as a ghost, she knows that no good can come of it, and is much more reluctant to deal with Gintoki than she had been previous samurai. When we see the mother and wife crying, it is as if they know no good can come of Gintoki being back. They are going to be forced to re-live the misery of losing him, one way or another. And his compulsion to continue to seek them out, no matter the cost, also illustrates, to me, a sense of being doomed from the start. If I can bundle the idea of fate with nature, surely nature controls and compels the characters in the film to act.

[jindianajonz]

Mr Sausage: I'm afraid that we may be beating this point to death, but when I mention his ambition, I was referring to the fact that he chose to pursue the ghost to the point of his own death, rather than accept the fact that he had failed in his task. I know the Japanese are often portrayed as being quite willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of duty, and I guess that could be the reason Gintoki was as zealous in his pursuit as he was, but something in his eyes and his movements struck me as being motivated more by greed (to finish his task and maintain that cushy job) more than fear of reprisal, especially since the threat of death for not finishing his task had been lifted by this point.

Ultimately, I think the film is less interested in attacking samurai specifically, and more about how guilt should be assigned to institutions or individuals, and who should be held responsible.

I agree, though I didn't elaborate as much I should have. I think the social message is even broader than just WW2; it's a more general tale about how the upper class (Minamoto) orchestrate hostility between the middle and lower class and use that to stay in power (by means of patronage and "protection"), which is an allegory straight of of Karl Marx.

The ambiguity of the film is that it leaves open the question of whether it was the samurai institution that is to blame (thus justifying the women's revenge and Gintoki's death), or the individuals who committed the act (thus making Gintoki's death tragic).

One interesting aspect of the film is the role of the mother. Early on, it is clear that she is the victim and we are meant to sympathize with her, but by the end of the film she is depicted as monstrous and evil, and I don't think there is any clear point where our opinion of her changes. At the same time, I don't think there is a very clear distinction between up-and-comer Gintoki and the rest of the Samurai; although his intentions seem nobler at the beginning, by the end he is reduced to fanatically attempting to carry out the whims of his superior.

[Mr Sausage]

Mr Sausage: I'm afraid that we may be beating this point to death, but when I mention his ambition, I was referring to the fact that he chose to pursue the ghost to the point of his own death, rather than accept the fact that he had failed in his task. I know the Japanese are often portrayed as being quite willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of duty, and I guess that could be the reason Gintoki was as zealous in his pursuit as he was, but something in his eyes and his movements struck me as being motivated more by greed (to finish his task and maintain that cushy job) more than fear of reprisal, especially since the threat of death for not finishing his task had been lifted by this point.

We can probably agree that you need pretty strong evidence to show that a character who's been unmotivated by greed and ambition throughout 90% of a movie suddenly succumbs to it in the last ten minutes, and that "there was something in his eyes and movements" isn't isn't it.

Your last sentence just makes me shake my head. I mean, he doesn't fear reprisal? Exactly how happy do you think his lord and master is going to be when he hears Gintoki not only didn't defeat the ghost, but lost the severed arm? Forgiving and understanding? There are a whole bunch of reasons why Gintoki pursues his mother at the end (not the least of which is his horror that she kills people and drinks their blood), but greed and ambition isn't one of them. You are pursuing a false lead on this one.

by the end he is reduced to fanatically attempting to carry out the whims of his superior.

This is inaccurate. Wanting a blood-drinking evil spirit who preys on your underlings to be destroyed is not a whim, and Gintoki is far more personally invested in the whole affair to be merely carrying out someone else's arbitrary orders. He is not fanatical, either, far from it. Frantic, yes, but then maybe this is understandable given everything he's been through up until that point.

[movielocke]

This has been a phenomenal discussion to follow. I didn't care for the film when I first watched it last year, but following this discussion has caused me to wish I hadn't sold my copy. There was far more to the film than I initially gave it credit for, I had tagged it as a somewhat dull and predictable mediocre ghost story that was extraordinarily pretty to look at, fascinating to see all the cultural context and commentary that I completely missed out on. To a certain extent, I think some of my lack of connection to the title was because I fell asleep while watching it and had to skip back to the last point I remembered and finish the film the next night. Having a fractured flow is often very deleterious to experiencing a film.

Regarding the purification ritual, I took this to be an enormously important part of the film, that if he had succeeded in completing the purification ritual the ghosts would be eradicated, but he succumbed to them during the purification and thus the disenchantment did not occur; they were able to reunite their lost limb and continue on their existence (and he was done for). Was it intended to be purely empty--a traditional gesture--or was it intended to be a crucial part of the story, that he was as achingly close to succeeding only to ultimately fail in the very final moments?

[Drucker]

Movielocke, I didn't give the purification ritual any importance. The leader who prescribes the ritual is certainly seen as a nonbeliever in ghosts. I really got the impression that he was forced to do it "for show." We'll have this ritual and then we'll honor you, yadda yadda, shake some hands, you'll be a hero, and I'll have more political power. The irony of the scene of course is that the ghosts must be real! Even so, I found it to be a device to set-up the final battle and climax of the film more than something that had inherent value on its own.

[Shrew]

The purpose of the purification ritual is definitely to clean Gintoki of the ghost's influence, though it also has social significance. Japanese belief systems tend to stigmatize anything that touches death or demonic influence (see the recent Departures for a modern example), and the purification ritual is meant to remove this influence for the sake of the participant's own health. He's marked by the demon, and so this should protect him. It's similar to what happens to Ashitaka in Princess Mononoke, or in Western culture, the way vampire/werewolf stories often provide people who are bitten possible salvation through some ritual. Which like here, usually fails (hence Gintoki's stupidity in letting to ghost enter is a genre trope, or as Mr. Sausage argued, part of the nature of the fable).

However, the stigma associated with the demon/death would also make Gintoki a social pariah, so the purification ritual is also a way for him to become socially acceptable again, like a bath to clean off grime. (Which also happens earlier in the film after he becomes a samurai I think? I didn't rewatch this for the discussion, and it's been a while.) While there is an element of propriety involved and the leader may be making Gintoki go through the ritual out of pure ritual, the film's logic makes it pretty clear that the demons are real and it follows that the purification ceremony would have protected Gintoki had it been completed. So... it works both ways?

[movielocke]

While there is an element of propriety involved and the leader may be making Gintoki go through the ritual out of pure ritual, the film's logic makes it pretty clear that the demons are real and it follows that the purification ceremony would have protected Gintoki had it been completed. So... it works both ways?

This was my take as well, that if we accept that demons/ghosts exist in this mileau, then we should accept that the purification ritual as part and parcel of that mileau's cultural context. I'm not sure what impulse it is that allows a western viewer like me to pick and choose which cultural beliefs and practices to privilege, but it seems to happen a lot in fantasy environs that viewers/readers pick and choose which bits they find worthy. I'm not sure we should sever up the belief system to fit our interpretations and perspectives.

[Kat]

I saw Kuroneko in a film group, projected, last night. A wonderful, striking, powerful film.

I’m going to try to be very careful how I say what I do.

I like a lot of the comments above and want to reflect that and also use one especially to build on an argument I started to make last night. In a way I see all comments as having truth.

What I started to think about last night was identity and recognised identity and narratives of identity. We have the young man returning Hachi/Gintoki with a head - a head they are not sure of identity for but then accept this when he tells an acceptable story. We have the ghosts whom he thinks look a bit like his mum and wife - in a way I thought of Martin Guerre, this sort of thing much much more common to our ancestors perhaps. I’m sure there are other aspects of story telling and identity - cat or ghost, the story to be told about the arm.

But then thinking of narrative and acceptable stories I thought of the beginning of the film - something that is depicted in such a fractured way, horror beyond words, untellable.

I was aware of the bamboo grove aspect of the title and have read that Akutagawa story. But I’m grateful Jack Phillips for what you said of impenetrability and unknowingness in regard to bamboo groves - as that was what I said of that start, something beyond words. It is trauma - something now understood to function such as it is hard to understand, may be so large that the brain actually changes physically in dealing with, cannot file as memory as it would like to. I said last night that I saw the film as a comment on life affected by war - as a playing out of the emotions caused…or maybe by any trauma, but war especially relevant.

The young man comes back with a new identity - can he have been far from people such as the initial criminals? The women - have been murdered and become ghosts (or is that a metaphor) - either way they are changed, in a different way. And they are all in grief for what they cannot have and which they sought so much, their goal in life. I wonder about the relationship with the ghost/wife as a playing out of yearning for this thing lost.

He may have read that Sutra and dispelled his ghost/mother - but when he saw the reflection of her a demon he could not accept that change and fought. They could all be finding it and to handle change caused by the war. She does not try to kill him - but takes a literally high position above him, looking down, unreachable…is this reflecting a view he may have of himself, from her eyes. He could have read the sutra, his attitude to her changed with a vision in a puddle.

I’m interested in what’s been written of the purification - and see it now as ironic maybe that such purification would be needed and yet no apparent purification of the returning men of war (surely also touched by death, or are they somehow victors over death, is that part of the problem?).

In the end I think he is battling his ghosts as someone said - and I see it as a comment on the futility of war that the thing that sustains him, hoping to get back to, that he dies in the ruins of this hearth. I think he is grappling with a story that he can find no way to tell, there seems no way out of it - it is unspeakable, unknowable, unbeatable…or on the basis of what he knows, I’d argue such things need to be approached differently, and not by remaining in warrior mode (?), and not warrior mode in relation to domestic ghosts.

In a way I wonder if it is a dialogue between masculine and feminine, ways of being - and on what is lost by certain action. The women granted an anger and ability to act on it that is hard/impossible to be shown ever day in day to day roles? There is something about this trauma taking people back to an animal nature and the seeking to get back to a gentility or domesticity.

I’ve ordered it to see again, these thoughts provisional, as ever. So many beautiful images - the puddle jumping, the vaulting across the horse, much of the ghosts movements, the ride out of the sun (now I put it like that the mythology of that, the psychodrama of it?). In way is the whole film a ride out of a burning trauma, to find what is left having been where they have, and in the ashes.

(I don’t mean to negate the women’s deaths as deaths, I’ve written more from an aspect of seeing them changed by war in other ways, found myself on that path in writing this - I see also they literally are dead, angry about that, unreleased…as so many women in war have been affected in life and as far as death, obviously I’m not commenting beyond that).