This is obviously meant as a companion piece of Eagle of the Pacific. Where the earlier film told the story of the Pacific War from the Japanese and leadership perspective, Farewell Rabaul tells the story of the same theater of war from the grunt perspective. Well, not quite grunt. More like lower officers, the pilots of the Imperial Navy. More than the earlier film, though, Farewell Rabaul is the story of a defeated people, a nation that lost a massive war so totally that there's no denying it, a military so thoroughly outmatched in terms of industrial might that its perception of total dominance was dashed so completely in a way that killed millions of its young men to prove it. The package that Ishiro Honda and his trio of writers tell this story is so well done and involving, that this might be one of the best films about WWII.
In the country of Papua New Guinea is a small village called Rabaul where the Japanese had an air base from which it attacked American ships and planes after the Battle of Midway (it's actually featured briefly in Eagle of the Pacific). At this base is a small naval air command led by Captain Katase (Rentaro Mikuni) and his second in command Captain Wakabayashi (Ryo Ikebe). Katase gets injured in the opening mission, leaving sole command to Wakabayashi who has gained the moniker of Captain Oni (meaning devil) for his harsh treatment of his men, mostly in pursuit of their focus on their missions rather than the chances of life or death. That opening mission sees thirty planes go out, about a dozen come back, and carrying reports of having met over 100 American planes in response. It's obvious from the start that no matter how good the Japanese pilots may be, they're outmatched from a mechanical point of view. The core of the film is Wakabayashi's personal journey in how he views the Imperial efforts at war against America.
He starts as much of a true believer as anyone else, at least on the outside. It's obvious that despite his talk about focusing on the mission, though, he has inner misgivings about how things are playing out. I was reminded of the botched romance in The Skin of the South as we watched Wakabayashi go through a romance here with the nurse Sumiko (Mariko Okada) where Wakabayashi won't say anything to her about his feelings. This being a Japanese film, there has to be a character with deep feeling who never mentions it, and the combination of Wakabayashi's feelings for Sumiko and the path he takes regarding Japan's involvement in the war perfectly mesh for him. It's a strong example of multiple aspects of a story coming together to feed one thing at its heart: silence.
The Japanese pilots are plagued by their own personal Red Baron whom they call Yellow Snake based on the painted image of the animal on his plane. Wakabayashi suspects that Yellow Snake must be a pilot of deep experience in order to take apart his pilots in their Zeros so easily. There's even a nice scene as Wakabayashi tries to talk one of his newer pilots through instructions on how to save himself after he has his fuel tank punctured, but the young pilot simply panics and falls to his death. Wakabayashi is also contrasted with Lieutenant Noguchi (Akihiko Hirata) who is more outwardly emotional and even wants to go back and try to rescue a fallen pilot who may be alive behind enemy lines, something Wakabayashi refuses outright.
The turning point is when they capture Yellow Snake (Bob Booth), an affable American who only joined the military after Pearl Harbor less than two years prior and had been a refrigerator salesman. Despite his good nature and even excitement at meeting Commander Oni (why the Americans would have the same nickname for Wakabayashi as the local New Guinian girl who hates him is unclear but whatever, that's tiny), Wakabayashi cannot bring himself to even look the man in the eye. The Japanese are being defeated by amateurs with the might of the American industrial complex behind them. In addition, Yellow Snake outlines how Japanese military tactics are antithetical to life itself, wasting life so easily, an accusation that comes right before the idea for Kamikaze flights in the Zeros to make up for lack of bombs comes to him from his superior officers. Life becomes important to Wakabayashi in a way that he had forgotten. The rest of his actions through the rest of the film aren't so much outright insubordination, but they do urge him into action to preserve life where he could in situations where he would have previously just let death happen.
Also, there's a sequence that if it wasn't inspired by the rescue sequence in Howard Hawks' Only Angels Have Wings (or Ceiling Zero since they're essentially the same film), I'll eat my hat.
The emotional reality of the film may be a step or two removed from actual reality (the idea of Japanese pilots treating a captured American pilot so nicely seems...slightly farfetched), and there's definitely an ex post facto element of trying to get the Japanese people to forgive themselves for what they did in the war by providing idealized portraits of what it was like. However, within the context of this idealized portrait of a loyal yet conflicted soldier of great skill, Wakabayashi is a compelling subject. He is a Japanese ideal, and the tragic path he ends up taking towards the end is both heroic and sad at the same time.
Honda films remarkably well whether in the local bar, the officers' quarters, or in the sky. His use of model work (actually done by Eiji Tsuburaya) is effective and combines well enough with real footage (the biggest difference being the quality of the filmstock used, the war footage being mostly done with very grainy 8mm film) while keeping the action clean. The actors are very good as well, and they might be the best performances in a Honda film so far. Ikebe is the cornerstone that film is built on, and his quiet reserve just gets to me.
Honestly, I completely loved this film. I do think it might be one of the great WWII films. It's quietly emotionally resonant, a fascinating portrait of a defeated military force, and a look at the brotherhood of the skies, a subject I always find so compelling on its own. It also touches on the impermanence of life during war making Farewell Rabaul potential double-feature fodder not just for Eagle of the Pacific but also Only Angels Have Wings and even John Ford's They Were Expandable. Honda made an absolute gem here, and that Godzilla completely overshadows it is unfortunate. Farewell Rabaul is the superior film Honda made in 1954.
