While
the American film industry was facing upheaval with the looming threat of
television which in turn devised the attraction of widescreen or
double-features, on the other side of the globe the postwar Japanese film
industry underwent a similar transformation.
In addition to breaking away from the jidaigeki period piece to pursuing
more contemporary themes of the effects of modernization and corporatist
powers, the industry saw the rise of the yakuza film and the business girl
film, shifting the focus towards more immediate matters facing Japan. Studios began hiring more iconoclastic
countercultural directors with their own idiosyncrasies defining their style
and thematic leanings. Among them was
maverick satirist Yasuzo Masumura whose infiltration of the genre picture
provided two indelible offerings of the so-called “black boom”.
The
”black boom” film series, consisting of eleven films by a variety of Japanese
directors from 1962 until 1964, consisted of features focused on espionage,
corporate chicanery, unexplained deaths and themes of social change facing
postwar Japan. The towering regime of
corporate-state power and the unscrupulous machinations governing systems of
justice present a Japanese landscape where ordinary people are forced to sell
their souls to stay afloat or cut corners to reach an unattainable
deadline. Competition is fierce, even
deadly, in the ascent to the throne whether it be in the corporate conference
room or the judicial systematized courtroom.
Curated
by Arrow Video are two features specifically directed by Yasuzo Masumura which
were among the first films of the “black boom” to tackle the unfair and unjust
mercenary nature of the system, the auto-industry espionage thriller Black
Test Car and the courtroom murder trial drama The Black Report. Notable for their distinctive visual style,
their penchant for nihilism and their kindred exploration of the unspoken
similarities between bureaucracy and criminality, these two films are as
ruthless as they are unforgettable once seen, offering a satirical take on the
procedural thriller as well as illustrating how easy it is to game the system
for your own self-serving advantage.
With this, let us take a look at Yasuzo Masumura’s Black film
series.
Black Test Car (1962)
After
a literal Black Test Car crashes and burns, the stage is set for a war
of ruthless competition between two Japanese car companies. Told as a loose ensemble dramatic espionage thriller
set within the office and assembly line confines of the auto industry, the film
posits the fledgling Tiger Motorcar Company against the formidable and
established Yamato Company who devise their own mutual task forces to try and
beat each other to the finish line. When
vital designs for the new Pioneer car wind up in the hands of the Yamato
Company, undercover spies from both sides are deployed to try and root out the mole
within the staff ranks. As the stakes
continue to rise, Onada (Hideo Takamatsu) and his methods will sink to new lows
including but not limited to prostitution, blackmail and murder.
Beginning
as a chilly ensemble procedural diving knee deep into the dialogue and
machinations of the auto industry before ballooning into a morality play of sacrificing
dignity for success, Masumura’s scathing dark satire comes on the heels of
Akira Kurosawa’s The Bad Sleep Well for its bleak regard for the wealthy
and the unscrupulousness of corporate chicanery. But unlike Kurosawa’s more melodramatic
dramatization of Hamlet, Black Test Car is told through the language
and practice of designing motor vehicles in an understated, realistic
fashion. Moreover, the setting and
subject of the auto industry is one that’s rarely ever seen in film let alone
early 1960s Japanese cinema. That Masumura
was able to take a frankly alien industry and make the plight of the mercurial
executives onscreen relatable is a remarkable feat in and of itself.
Based
on the novel by Toshiyuki Kajiyama and adapted for the screen by Kazuo
Funabashi and Yoshiro Ishimatsu, Black Test Car is a compelling, multifaceted
film which manages to take the banal procedural of car production and transform
it into a thriller which quickly goes from bad to worse. Lensed in tight, claustrophobic widescreen by
Yoshihisa Nakagawa, the visual look of Black Test Car feels deliberately
suffocating like you the viewer are being boxed in with the characters. Think of the cinematographic look of Kinji
Fukusaku’s Battles without Honor and Humanity without the shaky
camerawork and you have a rough idea of how Masumura’s film stages the
characters and set pieces onscreen. Also
key to the sense of encroaching unease is the soundtrack by Sei Ikeno, whose
dark and foreboding score echoing the sentiments of Akira Ifukube will invariably
send chills down your spine (especially during the opening credits).
Performances
across the board are strong but this isn’t the kind of film where one single character
actor takes center stage. This is an ensemble
piece of interlocking character threads all linked to the main battle between
the warring car companies and everyone who comes near this clean and sleek new
Pioneer car can’t help but get their hands dirty. By the end of the film, the car itself, borne
out of sneaky, even dangerous cunning, becomes something of a demonic
object. One of the main characters in
the film who went as far as to debase herself for the good of her boyfriend’s
employer remarks on the new Pioneer car’s visual beauty seeing it drive by on
the road. Despite the ornate cleanliness
of the vehicle the man replies ‘that car’s dirty’. At the end of this treacherous, sullying
journey through an industry we take for granted, we too understand the
messiness of the business.
The Black Report (1963)
A
year after sending shockwaves through Japanese filmgoers with Black Test Car,
Masumura reunited with screenwriter Yoshihiro Ishimatsu and shifted gears towards
a different kind of arena tainted by darkness: the courtroom. Opening on a murder scene of a company
president, The Black Report begins as an involving detective story featuring
Ken Utsui as a young public prosecutor who collects more than enough evidence
to solve an open and shut murder case.
However, once the case is brought into court, the prosecutor is no match
for the defense attorney of the accused.
Despite ample evidence and testimonies, it quickly becomes clear an
obviously guilty man will likely go free with more than a few parties within
the system working against the prosecutor.
Based
on the novel by Sen Saga, Masumura’s police/court procedural treads in the
footsteps of Black Test Car with regard to dramatizing a sense of
encroaching defeat. The story is structured
in such a way that Utsui’s prosecutor becomes David in a battle against a Goliath
courtroom and the more setbacks he suffers the more we can’t help but rally behind
him in support. Many of the same cast
members including Junko Kano and Hideo Takamatsu return though this ensemble
procedural is mostly headed by Ken Utsui who brings a heroic edge to the
character. As more and more characters start
changing their stories and displaying self-serving tendencies, the case and
courtroom becomes an increasingly insurmountable adversary that continues to
tower over our hapless prosecutor.
As
with Black Test Car, cinematographer Nakagawa returns with even more
suffocating claustrophobic camerawork sandwiching the characters and scenery
together. The courtroom has been an open
stage in film since the inception of the medium but never has it felt so
chokingly compressed together thanks to Nakagawa’s framing and camera
placement. Black Test Car sported
a more interesting subject and setting for sure but I can’t say I’ve seen a
courtroom drama that made me want to desperately run for the open outdoors, a
testament to Nakagawa and Masumura’s unique visual approach. Sei Ikeno also returns with a bleak,
foreboding score of impending failure, suggesting the film’s hero and we the
audience are in over our heads and things aren’t going to end well.
While
the secondary of the two Masumura features, The Black Report is no less
incendiary or scathing and fills you with anti-establishment sentiment. Though there have been courtroom dramas
before, few are as critical of the construct itself as this one, implying the
verdict has been reached before the case even plays out with the stakes
continuing to stack against the hero. Moreover,
both Masumura features portray a modern and realistic world depicting a system
that steals the souls of the living. Even
after that system strips us of our dignity and pride, Masumura’s films are ultimately
about learning to live with ourselves while staring in the face of such evil.
--Andrew Kotwicki