THE SUN’S BURIAL (1960) 6/10

Published on: December 14th, 2009

Osaka, the fag-end of the 1950s. A new decade looms, but the residents of a dockside shanty-town see no grounds for optimism. They live in a defeated, humiliated nation, colonised by one set of victors (USA), with another set (USSR) lurking just over the ocean, perhaps preparing an assault. Japan's post-war recovery may be underway over in Tokyo, but here the underworld dominates the economy: dog-eat-dog capitalism, gang-controlled, riddled with exploitation from top to bottom. The 'Land of the Rising Sun'? Harsh "fables of the (re)construction," more like.
   As its title suggests, The Sun's Burial presents a grim diagnosis of Japan's prospects. The emphasis may be on youth – the two main characters, Hanako (HONOO Kayako) and Takeshi (SASAKI Isao) are both played by actors still in their teens – but there's little sense of upbeat expectation for this upcoming generation. Although they are young and attractive, this pair are surrounded on all sides by the old, the sick, the diseased, the deformed. 
   By far the loudest voice belongs to a war-veteran known only as 'Agitator' (OZAWA Eitaro), a perpetually cross-armed, dyspeptic splutterer who maintains a steady litany of complaints and doom-mongering. "No hope for Japan now," he barks, disgusted at the boozy fecklessness and laziness he sees all around him. "A sickly bunch! Lack of training makes you unfit for emergencies"… including what he perceives as the imminent threat from the USSR: "soon the Soviets will attack," he warns. But his neighbours are far too busy squabbling among themselves to even consider external hostilities, clannishly closing ranks against any incomers – be they cops (not much sign of authority figures in this slummy dystopia) or opportunistic new-face-in-hell crooks.
   It's "rough for a new gang to gain a footing," but that doesn't stop the ambitious 'Shinei-Kai' from having a go. Young men group themselves into clans and criminal fraternities - while the ever-resourceful Hanako makes her living from a racket involving blood donation. Experience has made her exceedingly tough – "some are better off dead," she sniffs, caring little for the whisperings of others ("gossip lasts just 75 days.") She's perpetually alert to, and instinctively contemptuous of, others' weaknesses – "Fool! The dead are dead. Why bother with them?" 
   Takeshi, by comparison, is a total greenhorn. He may be model-handsome and stylishly bequiffed, but he's a callow child among such venal adults. Becoming romantically entangled with Hanako, for all her spirited forcefulness, seems like a one-way ticket to perdition. And though there may be moments of tenderness at certain points in the journey, the final destination is seldom in doubt…
   KAWAMATA Takashi's cinematography depicts corruption in the most pungent of colours, the most dramatic of shadowy chiaroscuro contrasts (startlingly so, given when the picture was made.) But the (uncredited) location-scout is the star of the show, finding all manner of dramatic backdrops for the cockroach-like characters to conduct their immoral/illegal/violent business. Kawamata's camera is hypnotised by the possibilities of a vast construction-site at dusk, the exposed girders and beams of this ruined-looking infrastructure forming a thick black grid that provides an unlikely setting for a steamily amorous liaison.
   Elsewhere, the camera prowls the rooftops, dollying silently across a faceless, modern cityscape at nightfall; earlier, down at street level, we've noticed corpses lying, unremarked, in the background. The picture's most effective sequence involves the disposal of another cadaver - victim of what the press might term a "gangland slaying," tipped into a filthy river during a filthy dawn.
   Evoking a nauseatingly atmospheric milieu of rot and decay, these wordless scenes are the strongest, MANAABE Richiro's atonally jaunty score frequently proving much more eloquent and persuasive than the dialogue – largely bickering among bottom-feeders – in a screenplay co-credited to OSHIMA and to ISHIDO Toshiro. After a while, the plotting becomes unproductively diffuse as we struggle to distinguish between various sets of no-goodnik gangsters, strain to keep track of exactly who's putting what racket over on whom, puzzle over endless discussions of percentage cuts, switches of loyalty, internecine strifes, factionalisations as the Shinei-Kai rises and falls. 
   The final act sees Takeshi discover the full extent of Hanako's brute cynicism, realise that it's easier said than done to forfeit one's conscience, but that social and economic exigences proclude any viable alternative. Not for nothing had we heard him sing the gloomy lament "Hunted and pursued on this endless trail / Tears my sole companion / Happiness beyond reach…" Things quickly spiral "from bad to worse," tumultuously culminating in an apocalyptic conflagration and protracted close-ups of scarred, sweaty ugly mugs – the most direct example of Oshima's default misanthropy. We may resist, but we are persuaded.
  
Neil Young
14th December 2009

THE SUN'S BURIAL
6/10
Taiyō no hakaba
aka Tomb of the Sun
Japan 1960
directed by ŌSHIMA Nagisa
87m (AFM)
[17/28]

seen at 
Austrian Filmmuseum
   [Österreichisches Filmmuseum]
Vienna
29th October 2009
press show