L'isola nuda

I remember this film from my student days. I saw it in an uptown, shabby, art house theatre (when art meant porn) in Philadelphia. I was amazed. As I recall, it is a film without dialog. Not silent, but no dialog. Black and white, but singularly visual. Three, maybe four characters with self- effacing directing and camera work, it was as intimate as small off-Broadway theatre. I've seen nothing since as cinematic, or moving. No one I've ever met, has seen it. But I remember it vividly.

I came to the internet searching for information on this movie. Not only did I find it, but I found a comment that mirrored my own experience with the movie. I too saw it in my student days, nearly 30 years ago, in a Friday-night "cinema" series in the student union theater. I see it's listed as B&W; I remember it in color -- maybe colorized it in my head? No dialog, just music and environmental sound; gorgeous photography of the island, the sea, the brutally hard work ferrying water for the crops on the terraces. And we follow that work for a long long time; we go through impressed, to irritated (why don't they move to town for chrissake), to rage at being made to sit through this for so long, to numb resignation. So we're right where the characters are. Writhing in my seat, hoping it will come to an end. And then the brief scene that left me stunned, that made sense of all that lead up to it, two seconds of film that explain us in the universe. Like William, I've never met anyone else who's seen this movie. And I don't know if I could sit through it again. But I'm sure glad I did back then.

If you have ever wondered what a film would be like that exemplifies how the tools of the craft can be used to do powerfully what no other art can do, this film answers the question. It is among the most carefully wrought, least encumbered yet profound movies ever made. The fact that it has long been unavailable in America and Europe in any accessible format reflects very sadly upon us all. (Addendum 15 March 2008 for those of you with region-free players: the English distributor, Eureka, has thankfully released the original widescreen version of the movie in PAL format in its 'The Masters of Cinema Series', #12, with an optional commentary by Shindo and his composer, Hikaru Hayashi. Available from Amazon.uk.)

I was surfing on the t.v. and came across this incredible "little" film on a French Canadian station. As there is no dialogue and the story is so human and pure, it is truly the most universal picture I've seen. I defy anyone not to be moved by the challenges which the characters face, the realism in the minimalist acting and the beauty of the simplistic black and white camerawork. I've never heard of this film, but I will tell all my friends about it.

I was living next to the Seto Naikai (Inland Sea) at the time this movie was made, and marvel at its matchless, eclectic choice of images and atmosphere to convey the ambiance of the time and place. The photography, music, and restrained acting are perfection itself. The lack of dialogue helps, rather than hinders, its beautiful, simple story. It has captured a Japanese way of life and culture (actually lived by the director---the movie was made as a tribute to his parents) forever and in the very highest artistic sense. The movie is so genuine, so sympathetic to its participants and subject matter, that the viewer is softly, irresistibly, drawn in to share their travails. For years it has been a wonder to me why this classic film has been forgotten. Of the thousands of movies I have seen in my lifetime, this is the finest.