Shintaro Katsu: The Early Years Pt. 3

In September of 1954, the alluring Kabuki performer Tamao Nakamura came to work at Daiei. She debuted in Zenigata Heiji – Yurei Daimyo, a well-known Edo-period cop series. Also, Katsu's older brother Masaru became a contract player at Shin Toho studios, taking the stage name Tomisaburo Wakayama. Soon Nakamura, Wakayama, Katsu and Ichikawa would all be big stars, their personal and professional lives intertwining for years to come.

Katsu appeared in three movies in 1954 and, due to the popularity of jidai-geki (period dramas), acted in another ten films from 1955 to 1958. One of these films, Kan Kan Mushi wa Utau (1955), also featured the stunning Tamao Nakamura. Here the future Mr. and Mrs. Katsu met and acted together for the first time.

In 1956, Katsu first appeared in color in the motion pictures Tsukigata Hanpeita: Hana no Maki and Arashi no Maki, both directed by Teinosuke Kinugasa.  Katsu continued to play minor rolls alongside then top Daiei stars Kazuo Hasegawa and Raizo Ichikawa throughout 1956-57. Then in 1958, at the age of 27, Katsu took a step up the movie star ladder with larger roles in Daiei’s first Vista Vision movie, Yukyou Gonin Otoko, and first all-star Cinemascope feature, Chushingura (Loyal 47 Ronin).  In contrast to his high standing in the flamboyant Nagauta/Kabuki community, Katsu’s popularity in movies at this time was still somewhat less than phenomenal.  However, he continued to work steadily, appearing in over 10 movies in 1959 alone.

With 1960 came Katsu's first leading roll in Gentaro Bune, directed by Kunio Watanabe. Katsu negotiated with Daiei to have the female lead, the wife of his protagonist character, played by Tamao Nakamura.  The two had already been in ten films since 1955, but this picture offered their first opportunity to act as a husband and wife.

While Shintaro and Tamao were by now something of an item, and Tamao was no doubt pleased with the idea of appearing as the wife of her boyfriend, she was not as enthusiastic about the project itself; Gentaro Bune was a rather low budget, black and white affair, not the kind of film an up-and-coming actress would normally jump at. Nevertheless, Tamao wound up co-starring with Katsu in the picture.

Just as Kabuki and Nagauta had kept their important relationship for centuries, so Katsu and Tamao had come together as if fated to. To the Japanese movie industry of their day, they were the ultimate movie star couple, Japan's very own Dick and Liz. They were attractive, talented, appeared in films together and embodied the glamor and excitement of the modern Japanese cinema. Throughout the years, Tamao weathered many ordeals as a result of her husband's outrageous life style, yet throughout it all she remained a loyal and loving wife, until the day of his death. Shortly thereafter she famously stated, “If I were born again, I would certainly marry Katsu again.”

Shintaro Katsu: The Early Years Pt. 2

With a movie contract with Daiei Studios in his pocket, Katsumaru was ready to carve his new screen career. However, little did he know that another great opportunity was about to come his way: In 1954 Katsumaru toured America, performing Nagauta with his father’s Kabuki troupe (along with older brother Masaru). Despite the fact Katsumaru had just signed with Daiei, father Minoru insisted he join the US tour in order to experience that great land of opportunity, America. The troupe embarked in late January and toured the USA for the better part of ten months (according to Katsu’s autobiography, Ore -- in reality, the tour terminated in June).

The first stop on the US tour was Los Angeles. Katsumaru was surprised by the enthusiastic reception he and his family received. Together with the arrival of Seven Samurai and Musashi Miyamoto that year, Japanese culture was definitely a hip ticket. While Katsu talks at length about the great experiences he had on tour in his autobiography, no articles appeared in the Japanese press about the tour; only a handful of small articles in American newspapers mentioned it.

While in Los Angeles, Katsumaru took the opportunity to visit 20th Century Fox studios. A guide showed him around the lot, and paused to point out an elegantly disheveled young actor in t-shirt and jeans. “That’s James Dean,” he said, “one of the most promising young rising stars in the industry.” Katsu later recalled Dean as having “not even combed his hair. He looked like he just woke up, just wearing jeans, a wrinkled shirt, and some slippers, I thought: that’s a movie star?!”

Nevertheless, young Katsumaru was struck by Dean’s aura of star power, as well as his decidedly rebellious persona. This was no preening matinee idol. Here was a dynamic young actor whose unique style and passionate performance would launch him to superstardom the following year in East of Eden and Rebel Without a Cause. Gazing at James Dean on the Fox lot that sunny winter day in LA, something changed in Katsumaru. With just a glimpse of Dean, the 22-year-old shamisen player from Tokyo was completely inspired. In the coming years he would channel this inspiration, developing his own rebellious persona in films like The Tale of Zatoichi (Zatoichi monogatari), Bad Reputation (Akumyo) and Yakuza Soldier (Heitai Yakuza). Each of these films would spawn numerous sequels, placing them among the most beloved films series in Japanese film history.

According to Katsu’s autobiography, he returned to Japan in October of 1954. However his first film for Daiei Studios, Hana no byakko tai, was released that same month, so it’s more than likely that, as other sources have it, Katsumaru returned in June.

During this period, the Japanese film industry was dominated by six studios, namely Toho, Shin-Toho, Toei, Nikkatsu, Shochiku and Daiei. It was not uncommon for movie studios to own their own theater chains, and during the mid-50s Toei theaters began the practice of double feature releases. Soon other studios followed suit, releasing two movies at a time, a trend that created a demand for new stars. Into the void stepped the newly-dubbed Shintaro Katsu (named by Eiichi Tanaka, a pupil of Katsu’s father).

Joining young Mr. Katsu at Daiei were two more new faces, Raizo Ichikawa (a Kabuki performer from the Kansai region) and Takeshi Hanayuagi (an actor from the Shin-pa school, a modern theater at odds with the stylized traditions of Kabuki). Japanese newspapers at the time featured articles about the threesome, notable for their varied backgrounds in Nagauta, Kansai Kabuki and Shin-pa respectively.

Raizo Ichikawa, or simply Raizo (as he came to be known by legions of adoring fans), was not officially contracted with Daiei at first, but was nevertheless treated as an up-and-coming superstar, due to his dazzling good looks and reputation in Kansai Kabuki. Katsu, on the other hand, was still a raw youth and treated as such. In his autobiography, Katsu talks about the location shooting of Hana no byakko tai: “Raizo had a private car for himself, and I had to take the bus.”  During filming, Katsu apparently refused to play a dead man in one scene and had a little argument with the director (a trend that would lead to his eventual clash with Akira Kurosawa many years later). Raizo was contracted for 300,000 yen per film, while Katsu was contracted for only 30,000 yen. At that time, Daiei had no intention of making Katsu a star ...

To be continued ...

Shintaro Katsu: The Early Years Pt. 1

Years ago I attempted to write a biography of the legendary Japanese actor Shintaro Katsu (aka Zatoichi). The idea was to co-write it with my friend Tatsu Aoki, a noted jazz and traditional Japanese musician. He'd written the liner notes for some of the early Zatoichi DVD releases and is a subject matter expert in all things Katsu. Well, through no fault of Aoki-san's, the book project failed. However, I recently came across what little did get written and thought it might be of interest to readers of this blog. So with that, I give you the first installment of Shintaro Katsu: The Early Years.

Long before pop culture phenomenon Zatoichi was born to Japanese cinema, the man who gave him life, Shintaro Katsu, made his first appearance on the world stage. The year was 1931, the date November 29. His father, Minoru Okuyama, named him Toshio  (his older brother Masaru was born in 1929). Minoru was a player of shamisen (three string Japanese lute), specializing in a classical music style called Nagauta.  You may be familiar with the Japanese classical theater, Kabuki; Nagauta music was developed alongside the Kabuki theatrical tradition. 

The original form of Kabuki theater came to Kyoto in 1603, and by 1750 was an established, and very popular, entertainment among the merchant class in Edo (Tokyo). As both Kabuki and Nagauta developed, the performers and presenters formed family-oriented clans, claiming their own original styles and forms. Minoru Okuyama belonged to the Nagauta classical music family of artisans called Kineya (today they are called Kene-ie). Minoru became a senior accredited master at the age of 15 and received his performing name, Katsutoji Kineya. 

Minoru’s family lived in Fukagawa district, one of the hearts of Edo arts, but they lost their house in the great Kanto earthquake of 1923 and had to move to Chiba (near Tokyo). Minoru’s wife, Yaeko, came from a family that operated a noted cuisine house in Chiba.  She was a popular beauty in the neighborhood, and it wasn’t long before she caught Minoru’s fancy -- his house was across the street from her family’s restaurant.  Soon love flowered and the two were wed. Minoru and Yaeko were enthusiastic about their children’s artistic education, taking young Toshio and Masaru to Kabuki performances, Bunkaku puppet plays and dancing shows. After awhile Minoru brought the family back to Fukagawa.

Toshio started elementary school in 1938.  However, the boy continued to attend Kabuki performances; late nights meant he usually didn’t make it to school until noon. (In Katsu’s autobiography, he confesses that another reason for him being late to school was that he was always wetting his bed.) Young Toshio was a daddy’s boy, his father spending as much time with him as he could.  Normally the father of a traditional performing family at this time didn’t come home everyday, so it was always a treat to spend time with dad. 

Since Toshio had been exposed to Kabuki plays from the age of two, he’d developed a talent for imitating the various Kabuki stars of the day and performing for the other kids.  He started his Shamisen training quite early, at age seven, formally apprenticing to his father. In 1944, Toshio entered junior high school, but only temporarily; a U.S bombing raid on Tokyo destroyed the family home.  In September, the family moved to Nikko, just north of Tokyo. The family moved back to Tokyo in 1947. Some time after the family’s return to Tokyo, the house they’d bought caught fire and with the insurance money, they were able to build a new house behind the historic Meiji-za Theater. Also, Yaeko opened a new cuisine house called Okumura.

Once in his teens, Toshio became a full-fledged Kabuki performer playing Shamisen.  He and older brother Masaru began performing regularly and soon were making a living as professional musicians.  Toshio received the accredited name Katsumaru Kineya II, becoming an official “made man” for the Kineya family in 1951.  (Some records like Japanese Who’s Who have his official accreditation date as 1948, at the age of 17, but his autobiography places it at 1951.)

This was also the time of an important relationship in the newly-dubbed Katsumaru’s life. He was involved in a very intimate relationship with a Geisha named Shimako.  She was devoted to Katsumaru and,  according to him, played a significant role in his Shamisen development. Due to the circumstances, Katsumaru being performer and Shimako a geisha in the same circuit, the family disapproved of their relationship and eventually dissolved it.  (An entire chapter of Katsu’s autobiography is dedicated to Shimako.)

The lives of Kabuki performers in those days were usually quite busy, flashy and expensive.  A 20 year old master performer like Katsumaru got around quite a bit, and in the most expensive districts in Tokyo. He spent many an evening out with actor Ken Utsui, one of his close friends; they loved the Tokyo nightlife and did quite a bit of drinking together.

In 1953, Tamao Hayashi, a daughter of famous Kansai Kabuki actor Ganjiro Nakamura, made her film debut at Shochiku studios. Before long she would become Mrs. Shintaro Katsu, and remain so for the rest of Katsu’s life. Also in 1953, a movie actor named Haruo Tanaka encouraged Katsumaru to pursue a movie carrier, taking him to the president of Daiei Studios in Kyoto.  President Masaichi Nagata knew Katsumaru’s father well, and he arranged the camera test the same day.  A month later, Katsumaru received a letter from the studio, offering him a contract as an actor. This was his ticket movie stardom.

To be continued ...

The Red Shoes

As noted in Asia Shock, J-horror and K-horror are film genres wherein just about anything can be haunted; video cassettes, cell phones, computers, you name it. In this Korean film from 2005, guess what? It's a pair of shoes. But make no mistake, this ain't your grampa's The Red Shoes, the boring 1948 Powell/Pressburger flick about a ballerina (although the film does involve ballet -- a thematic nod). In fact, the shoes aren't even red, they're pink. They're plenty wicked, though. Rip your feet right off, they will, as well as possess you with the spirits of killers and eventually drive you insane. Pump it up!

As usual, there's a decades-old backstory that's gradually revealed over 100 minutes or so, in this case dating back to the bad old days of Japanese occupation. The main character is a single mom who may or may not have done away with her asshole husband. She lives alone with her tiny daughter in a dingy apartment across the street from a haunted subway station (where she finds the shoes and thus embarks on her harrowing journey). It's a fairly outlandish premise that nevertheless works. I had my doubts at first; things were moving pretty slowly and once or twice I considered bailing. However something about the film held me, and I found myself gradually sucked in (although the pacing is a little uneven throughout).

I would really only recommend this film to folks who are really into Asian horror. It might be a bit too bleak and/or slow for your average film goer. Still, worth a look I think.

My Boss, My Hero

This Korean high school/gangster genre mash-up had me laughing out loud, and that's saying summat. No wonder, then, that it was the most successful comedy of 2001, although if you're not Korean, or haven't seen a truckload of Korean films, you might be a little freaked out by all the violence -- I'd estimate around a thousand slaps, kicks, punches and whacks with a baseball bat in the tidy 98 minute run time. What's likely to throw the average Western viewer is which slaps are supposed to be funny, and which ones are just plain wrong. The key here is in determining who deserves to be slapped. It is a generally understood concept in Korean culture that there are some people who just need to be slapped. Repeatedly. However, there are those who don't, and in doing so you do them, and the society at large, a disservice, and deserve to be slapped. See how this can all spiral out of control? In My Boss, My Hero, that's exactly what happens.

So you've got mid-level mob boss Do-shik (Jeong Joon-ho), a youthful-looking guy, well-respected, but he never finished high school and his status-conscious boss wants him to go back and graduate -- a straight-up fish-out-of-water comedic premise. But during the course of the story, myriad themes and social issues are explored, extending to the proper application of corporal punishment, corruption in the educational system, school bullying, sexual harassment, teenage prostitution, homosexual persecution and bad karaoke. Oh, and did I mention all the slapping?

Bear in mind that teachers slapping their students around has long been the norm in Korean schools (maybe it's changed, but as of 2001 it was still S.O.P., even in the Gangnam high school where the story is set). As I've mentioned before, Korea has had a rough go of it over the last hundred years -- a brutal colonization by Japan, then the civil war and subsequently a series of dictatorships, both north and south. Institutional violence has been inculcated into the culture (and they were a tough lot even before the 20th century). It's important to keep all this in mind when watching a film like My Boss, My Hero; underneath it all, they're just people like us, with the same loves, lusts, allegiances, and sense of right and wrong. Maybe a little more slap-happy …

Much of the laughs come from the casting of very funny, and funny-looking, actors. Several guys in this flick, you start laughing just looking at them. It's refreshing! Get a goofy-looking guy to play a goofy guy -- go figure, it works. Then make the goofy guy do the human tripod thing (a traditional Korean discipline/torture in which one is forced to balance on two feet and forehead, hands behind back -- also employed in the films Friend and Attack the Gas Station).

I gotta get more into Asian comedies. I wasn't disappointed by Wakeful Nights and you won't be with My Boss, My Hero.

Retribution

Another Kiyoshi Kurosawa picture, another devastating Koji Yakusho performance. Don't know what I'm talking about? That's OK, it really doesn't matter; such is the immediate, visceral nature of film, all you need do is lend 100 minutes to the screen and you'll get it. I'm forever throwing out names and dates and production trivia, but in the end, it's all about the images, the conjured floating world playing out in our eyes. Such is the paradox of film criticism: The better the film, the less you need say about it.

Hey, where are you going? I was only kidding! What you should know is this: Retribution (2006) is a moody, haunting supernatural thriller very much in the mode of Cure (1997) and Pulse (2001). I was a big Kiyoshi Kurosawa booster at one point, but stuff like Charisma (1999), Seance (2000), Bright Future and Doppelganger (both 2003) left me so cold and bored that I sorta drifted away. That said, I found Retribution to be a refreshing return to form.

What's it about? Oh drowning, mostly. There's a serial killer on the loose in Tokyo who likes to drown people in sea water (go figure). The detective on the case (Koji Yakusho) seems to have a personal connection to the case -- this backstory comes gradually, inexorably to the fore, along with a ghost. That's all I'm willing to say at this time …

Retribution is kind of an amalgam of Kurosawa's two finest films, Cure and Pulse. From Cure it takes the serial killer/police procedural thing; from Pulse, the sense of creeping, inevitable spiritual doom. It stands not quite so tall as its forebears, but is a worthy entry and worth a look.

Sleepy Eyes of Death Vol. 3

Hooray! Animeigo has released the third and final batch of Sleepy Eyes of Death films (see my reviews of the first and second). The box contains the final four of 12 excellent samurai films starring the incandescent Raizo Ichikawa. You get #9 A Trail of Traps, #10 Hell is a Woman, #11 In the Spider's Lair, and #12 Castle Menagerie. I review #9 and #12 in Warring Clans, Flashing Blades. I thought they were going to include those reviews in the box, but I guess they forgot. (They did use a quote from this here blog for a box blurb.)

The later SEOD films were particularly dark, with devil worshipers and psychotic elites around every corner. Through it all, our Nemuri Kyoshiro (Ichikawa) cuts a shining path with his sharp wit and patented Full Moon Cut. I threw on Trail of Traps as soon as I got the box and found it every bit as enjoyable as the first time I saw it, maybe more. 

This one's a no-brainer, folks: Ya gotta get it. Specialty outfits like Animeigo are on their last legs these days -- you won't just be getting a bunch of lively, bizarre and thoroughly entertaining samurai films, you'll be helping to sustain an important cultural resource. I don't know about you, but I've been stockpiling disks for years -- I don't want to be at the mercy of the cloud, and someone else's idea of what I want to watch. Maybe they'll offer these films, maybe they won't. All I know is I got mine and you should get yours ... before it's too late.