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- Notes and Thoughts
Mr.Goto Goes on Location of Oshima's New Film: Gohatto
- Taro Goto
Much recovered from the cerebral infarction he suffered in February
1996, director Oshima Nagisa is currently at work on his first
feature film since Max Mon Amour(1986). The project is called
Gohatto, a jidai-geki(period
film); hence, shooting is reportedly taking place just about
entirely in Kyoto, on location in the various temples, shrines,
and other cultural remnants of the ancient capital as well as
in Kyoto Shochiku Studios. I recently enjoyed the privilege of
spending a day visiting the production unit filming on location
at Chion-in Temple. Here, I would like to offer my brief observations
and thoughts from that day.
- May 18, 1999. I arrive at the steps before the main gate
of Chion-in Temple at nine a.m. with Christy Burks, a fellow
foreign exchange student (she from New York University, I from
the University of California at Berkeley) here to study film.
We are soon joined by Kato Mikiro sensei (Associate Professor
of Film Studies at Kyoto University), who helped arrange for
the visit, and Assistant Producer Yamamoto Ichiro, our liaison.
The enormous main gate which hulks over our heads is said to
be the largest wooden gate in Japan, and I wonder if this impressive
structure will be included in the filming, but Yamamoto-san informs
us while leading us up the stone steps that the filming will
take place exclusively in a hallway by the temple further up
ahead. I later discover that those very steps were often used
as substitutes for the steps leading up to Hikone Castle or Himeji
Castle in older jidai-geki films. Today, filming is rarely allowed
on Chion-in Temple grounds. Unlike in the past when the inevitable
wear and tear on the structures were tolerated due to the need
for money to maintain the sites, the tourism industry in recent
years provides ample revenue for most of the popular temples
and shrines in Kyoto. It seems that Oshimafs name helped to make
an exception for this film.
The crew is already there, preparing the said hallway and the
vicinity for filming while bewildered tourists and school children
look on. The hallway connects the main temple structure to an
adjacent building, elevated some ten feet above the ground, roofed,
with beautiful wooden pillars lining the sides. It is a rare,
open-aired corridor that also features uguisu-bari (gnightingale
floorsh), which emit distinctive birdlike sounds when walked
upon to help give warning of intruders. The two scenes to be
shot today will take place entirely on this corridor.
Gohatto will be the latest
filmic addition to the Shinsen-gumi saga, a story almost as popular
in Japan as the Chushingura (gThe Loyal 47 Roninh) legend. The
Shinsen-gumi was a band of mercenary samurai formed by the Tokugawa
Shogunate toward the end of the Edo era to maintain military
control against patriots in Kyoto who sought to overthrow the
Shogunate and to restore the Emperorfs power. Countless numbers
of novels, films, and TV serials have portrayed the various episodes
surrounding the Shinsen-gumi, and it appears that Gohatto itself will be an adaptation
of Shinsen-gumi Keppuuroku, a novel by Shiba Ryotaro. However,
Oshima is focusing primarily on a single chapter, gMaegami no
Sozaburo,h which depicts the upheaval caused by the arrival of
a new member, a beautifully handsome youth whose presence begins
to arouse homoerotic tension amongst the ranks, leading to violence
and casualties. The first scene today has the youth, Kano Sozaburo,
passing a henchman, Yamazaki, whom he fears may be attracted
to him, and exchanging ambivalent glances. In fact, Yamazaki
had received orders to take Kano to the red-light district to
gbreak him inh with a female prostitute in hopes of ending the
bizarre turmoil. In the second scene, Kano approaches Yamazaki
in the same corridor and decides to take him up on the earlier
invitation.
Soon after we exchange quick greetings with Oshima, who has arrived
in a taxi and is then ushered away in his wheelchair, I spot
Matsuda Ryuhei, 15 year-old son of the late Matsuda Yusaku, flirting
with some makeup women in the distance. In this, his acting debut,
he is playing the lead role of Kano. Indeed, his face is nothing
less than gbeautifully handsome,h and with the white makeup enhancing
the feminine countenance, it crosses my mind that he may one
day make a fine onna-gata (male actors playing female roles in
Kabuki theatre). The most striking feature, however, is the piercing
gaze from his sharp eyes. The strength of that feature alone
may justify Oshimafs decision to entrust such a crucial role
to someone with absolutely no acting experience.
Nearby, comedian Tommies Masa, who plays Yamazaki, jokes around
with some extras, all clad in formal Shinsen-gumi attire. The
costumes are designed by Wada Emi, who has won an Oscar for her
work in Kurosawafs Ran. The black outfit and angular forms, reportedly
inspired by Nazi uniforms, accentuate the masculinity of the
institution that stands in stark contrast to Kanofs femininity.
Even to amateur eyes like mine, it seems quite obvious that these
costumes are far from a realistic rendition of what the Shinsen-gumi
actually wore, which suggests to me a deliberate attempt to evoke
a visual relationship with the Nazis and their persecution of
homosexuals. The term Gohatto,
moreover, refers to strict penal codes by which Shinsen-gumi
members were bound, punishable by death. Today, the word is colloquially
used to refer to bans and taboos.
- Clearly, this film is positioning itself to be a jidai-geki
unlike any other. That, of course, should be no surprise given
Oshimafs penchant for subverting anything dominant or conventional.
A question arises: Will jidai-geki ever be the same?
The crew is scrambling to prepare the lighting setup with an
elaborateness rarely seen in Japanese location filming. The
director of photography is Kurita Toyomichi, known for his work
with Alan Rudolph and most recently with Robert Altman in Cookiefs
Fortune. Gohatto is his first
jidai-geki, and he appears to be doing things his own way. Flood
lamps are positioned to bounce light off the enormous white cloths
which are put up along the corridor, resulting in diffused lighting
to create a soft image, in contrast with the sharper lighting
usually found in traditional jidai-geki. Rumors are that further
additions will be made in post-production to transform the image
even more.
Kurosawa Akira allegedly lamented that his was the last generation
with the ability to make true jidai-geki films. Indeed, the historical
nature of jidai-geki films calls for a tremendous amount of specialized
skills and knowledge, accumulated and passed down from generation
to generation. Who will be inheriting these in todayfs bleak
Japanese film industry? It should be noted that the Gohatto team essentially includes three
directors in addition to Oshima: Sai Yoichi (director of All
Under the Moon and chief assistant director of Oshimafs In the
Realm of the Senses) plays the leader of the Shinsen-gumi, and
Kitano Takeshi (director of Sonatine, Kids Return, Hana-bi, and
most recently, Kikujiro no Natsu) plays his lieutenant, while
Narita Yusuke (director of Abunai Deka Forever) serves as assistant
director. It should be interesting to see how this collaboration
influences their future works as well as whether they will take
a shot at jidai-geki themselves. How will the genre be interpolated?
In any case, it is likely that the conditions surrounding location
filming in Kyoto will play a part in determining the parameters
of what will be shown in jidai-geki films, quite literally. As
I peep over Oshimafs shoulders to take a look at the monitor,
I find that the shot has been carefully composed to frame the
fringes with the ceiling, floor, and pillars, effectively cutting
out most of the outside scenery in which tourists are milling
about, gawking at the spectacle. gThis is such a filmic space,h
mutters Kato sensei, surveying the layout of the temple complex.
gItfs unfortunate that they canft show more of it.h With the
intrusion of signposts and electric lines into what used to be
pristine sites of preserved history, the camera is forced to
retreat into small, isolated spaces which are then pieced together
to create a continuous diegesis in post-production. In Gohatto, scenes from various temples
throughout Kyoto, together with this corridor scene at Chion-in
Temple, will collectively represent the single temple at which
the Shinsen-gumi reside in the film. No matter how effective
the illusion, I cannot help but think that this must severely
limit the mobility and scope of the shots. The more the scenery
of Kyoto changes, the more the jidai-geki will be confined to
studio sets and closed spaces. Apparently, there was tourist
bedlam when the team was on location one weekend afternoon in
Arashiyama (one of the most popular spots in Kyoto) to shoot
a scene in which Shinsen-gumi members discover a dead body.
Even more remarkable is the extent of aural intrusion. With the
lighting setup ready to go and the actors on standby, the team
awaits an OK from the sound recordist. gOne sec,h he says. gGongs
in the distance.h The actors remain frozen, the boom held steady
above them, while staff members keep the curious tourists at
bay. As soon as the gong stops, however, a plane roars overhead.
gLetfs wait for this plane,h says the recordist. Yet even before
the plane is gone, a procession of chanting Buddhists arrive
at the scene (Chion-in is the head temple of the Jodo [gpure
landh] sect of Buddhism) and traverse the frame, seemingly oblivious
to the filming. No sooner is the procession past when a helicopter
begins hovering in the sky. The recordist laughs at the ridiculous
fortune, while I begin to feel sorry for the boom operator whose
arms are starting to quiver. When silence mercifully returns,
the OK sign is relayed from the recordist to the assistant director,
who in turn indicates to Oshima that everything is ready. At
Oshimafs resounding shout and the ensuing slate, action begins:
gInspector Yamazaki, will you take me to Shimabara?h asks Kano,
a faint blush on his white cheeks. gI am off duty tonight.h
Fortunately for Shochiku, Oshima seems to follow a personal policy
of limiting most shots to one or two takes. (Can anyone boast
a lower shooting ratio?) Though the frequency of noise interference
would prohibit the luxury of taking shots over and over anyway,
Oshimafs economy and efficiency at the helm is a sight to behold.
With most of the significant aspects of the filming concretized
in pre-production as far as he is concerned, Oshima is spare
with his words, seldom giving out directions. The assistant director
appears to be doing much of the nuts and bolts work, as I catch
Oshima in his directorfs chair dozing for a moment. When the
setup is ready, however, he leans forward, eyes glued to the
monitor, eager to begin action. Most shots are accepted after
the first take, occasionally needing a second take with minor
adjustments. To be honest, Matsudafs acting seems rather shaky,
but then again, Oshima has never been very particular about acting.
In fact, the one-take rule appears to raise the tension amongst
the crew when the camera rolls, demanding absolute focus for
each take because there will probably not be another.
In the end, I am left with a feeling of excitement. Oshima is
back in the directorfs chair. He is being supported by an all-star
team. And above all, a large-scale jidai-geki production is back
in Kyoto, however unorthodox it may be. Kato sensei mentions
that in the mid-50s, the local newspaper in Kyoto used to run
a daily column that listed the time and place of the various
filming locations in the region that day, allowing residents
and tourists to enjoy a sort of engagement with films in a way
different from simply watching them on screen. They were able
to observe the filmmaking process and, perhaps, participate in
the creative activity. Watching the samurais playing with school
children, I am reminded of how fun all this can be, how fun it
should always be.
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