Yoru no tsuzumi

Samurai Rentarô Mikuni sends word that he has a promotion and won't be home for another year and a half. When he returns home, he is happy to see his wife, Ineko Arima, and she him. Rumors, however, fly, that she has had an affair in his absence with Masayuki Mori. Mikuni does not wish to believe this. Feudal Japanese law -- this is the early 18th Century -- calls for the death of the woman and her lover.

Tadashi Imai directs this movie from a script based on Monzaemon Chikamatsu's puppet play, THE DRUM OF THE WAVE OF HORIKAWA, and all three principals act as if they are unwilling puppets under the control of forces beyond their control. It was originally produced in 1705, and doubtless was soon done in live performance on the Kabuki, like many of the dramatist's works. It has been revived several times, including an Off-Broadway adaptation that ran for a month in 2007 and won an Obie. Like many of Imai's movies, it is a sad and angry indictment of normative Japanese values, no matter what the era.

Yoru no tsuzumi aka Night Drum is surprisingly little known, considering director Tadashi Imai was one of Japan's most prolific, interesting and controversial of 20th-century film directors. He infused staunch left-wing political views into almost all his films, succeeding in combining masterful art with topical social criticism.

The riveting melodrama opens to the pulse of an ominous rhythm, to the melancholy sound of the drum itself. Tadashi Imai makes the most of this engrossing fable of romance and social convention, by plunging a sword into the samurai order with its impenetrable rules, Imai highlights the cruelty & hypocrisy of the rigid social structure. Set in 18th-century Japan, the tale of a married couple is based on a play from Chikamatsu Monzaemon. Hikokuro neglects his wife as he is frequently away from home for long periods, although through no fault of his own he must, as duty, serve the Shogun in Edo. Rumours and gossip begin to circulate in the small community about Otane his lonely, beautiful, young wife.....

Beautifully composed, brilliantly conceived, the absorbing drama culminates on a profound note, expressively portrayed in a stunning haunting image, a thought-provoking reflection...

A Japanese classic from way back, of special interest to lovers of black and white cinematography. With elegant and dreamlike images, this unpretentious film evokes Japan's forgotten feudal world from the perspective of one wealthy household. As a simple story of an illicit affair (devoid of FX, commercial tie-ins, or anime) cynics may find it a bit melodramatic. But when I saw it as a teenager (in the 70s) it was heady stuff.

Like many older Japanese films, it examines the tug-of-war between rigid social rules and personal desire. Having broken an unyielding taboo, the central characters all pay a terrible price as the romance unfolds. Masayuki Mori is incandescent here, as intelligent and seductive as any male film star you're likely to see.