Rating: 4.5/5
Criterion Challenge 2023 | 33/52 | Directed by Keisuke Kinoshita
A kabuki theater opening, where a host introduces the story — a morality tale about how we treat older adults.
The curtains open as a song sets up the story. We begin in the mountains of Shineao, in a remote valley, a little-known village.
A messenger seeks Orin. He comes from her former village across the mountain. He tells of a recent widow, the same age as Tatsuhei, Orin’s son. Tatsuhei’s wife fell into a ravine and died.
Ubasute is a long-held tradition of the village. When someone turns 70, a family member must carry them to the mountains of Narayama, leaving them to die. Though harsh, it preserves what little resources the village has.
Now that Orin, age 69, has secured Tatsuhei’s future, he will carry her to Narayama at the beginning of the new year.
Not everyone follows the tradition. A man older than Orin refused to go to Narayama, and his family no longer fed him.
Kesakichi, Orin’s grandson, treats Orin like shit. Orin has a complete set of teeth. Kesakichi starts a rumor that her mouth is full of demon teeth. The teeth bring her shame, so she looks for ways to break them out of her mouth so she can go to Narayama with peace of mind.
The story follows Orin through autumn as she prepares for the journey. Then, we spend the remaining movie watching their emotional trek to Narayama as they try to arrive before the snow begins to fall.
Brutality like this can feel melodramatic. The grip of tradition, however, is a prevalent theme in the movie.
Despite all of this, Orin keeps a loving, giving spirit. For example, when the new wife comes to the village, and Orin has no teeth, she still cooks white rice, their once-a-year treat, to welcome her. It highlights the wisdom of old age that a community loses when they allow selfish greed to dictate their traditions.
The film uses sets and matte paintings to build out elaborate settings. Transitions are the sets coming apart, silhouetting, lighting changes, moving into scenes, past them into new scenes. The theatricality sustains the kabuki theater framing while still developing a convincing environment.
What makes this different is not the theater elements. It’s how far the filmmakers went to push the theater aesthetic.
The meta-textual qualities extend to the chanter telling the story, whom Tatsuhei interrupts at one point to question a rumor he sings about.
Shot in widescreen, the cinematography is gorgeous and intentional, reminiscent of Max Ophüls’s camera work. There are moments where the characters pause in consideration. The camera pans in a pivot around them. It has so much impact, and it’s such a slight gesture.
The film is full of rich reds and greens, reminiscent of Technicolor’s early color processing. The red skies at sunset, the green of dark rooms, the total red tone of the screen when Tatsuhei learns Orin has broken out her teeth.