The Ceremony

The Ceremony (1971), directed by Nagisa Ôshima, is a gripping and unsettling exploration of family dynamics, tradition, and the weight of unresolved secrets. The film follows a man who, after receiving a shocking telegram from his cousin, begins to recount his childhood and early life within a family filled with hidden histories. As he reflects, the viewer is slowly introduced to the dark, unsettling rituals and ceremonies that shape the family's interactions, revealing the deep psychological and emotional scars that have been passed down through generations.

Ôshima's direction is both meticulous and daring, using the family ceremonies as a metaphor for the societal structures that confine and suffocate its members. The pacing is deliberate, with long, drawn-out scenes that mirror the suffocating nature of the family's secrets. The film's cinematography is stark and calculated, using a minimalist aesthetic that highlights the emotional and psychological intensity of the narrative. The use of silence and quiet moments adds to the tension, allowing the viewer to feel the weight of the unspoken words and hidden truths.

Kenzô Kawarasaki, Atsuko Kaku, and Atsuo Nakamura deliver compelling performances that capture the complex dynamics of the family. The film's central character is torn between loyalty to his family and the realization that their traditions are built on lies and repression. His journey is one of self-discovery, as he comes to terms with the unsettling truths about his past and the cost of maintaining family unity.

The Ceremony is a film that demands careful attention, as its layered narrative and dense symbolism require deep engagement. The slow, almost ritualistic pacing of the film allows for a gradual buildup of tension, culminating in a haunting exploration of the destructive power of family secrets and the rituals that bind individuals to their past.

With its sharp critique of tradition, psychological complexity, and powerful performances, The Ceremony stands as one of Ôshima's most remarkable works. It's a deeply affecting film that resonates long after it ends, leaving viewers to reflect on the nature of family, identity, and the weight of the past.

Rating: 10/10. A masterful exploration of family, tradition, and psychological complexity, with haunting performances and a profound narrative.

(1971) The Ceremony/ Gishiki (In Japanese with English subtitles) PSYCHOLOGICAL DRAMA

Co-written and directed by Nagisa Ôshima that has Sakurada Masuo (Kenzô Kawarasaki) and Sakurada Ritsuko (Atsuko Kaku) receiving a telegram from Tachibana Terumichi (Atsuo Nakamura). And while waiting for their boat liner, Masuo and through his narration it is during then we get to witness what his life is like from the times of 1945 and 1947 when he was just a child viewers then get to see how he meets them as well as other people from within this particular clan to which some may describe as dysfunctional.

The movie is long talky and boring to pessimistic from the stand point of a fictional and exaggerate story line.

I know a lot of people love this movie. For me it was not entirely successful. This is not one ceremony but many seen without any connection.

I saw a lot of events but I did not really feel I got to know any of the characters better and their motivation for their behavior. In fact I felt I knew as little about them when the movie ended as when it started.

I am not the big flashback fan for a starter. But some of the baseball things were contradicted from others as never happened. Well I have no idea now really if it did or was just made up. but again how much was then made up? What did really happen and what did not. For me not a great premise for a movie. This could as well have been all a dream.

Maybe I missed something because of the subtitles maybe not were adequate, but I doubt they could have missed that much. It did not help that I did not feel connected to any of the characters. At the same time I think their actions did not feel connected to other episodes in the paper thin story line.

I think I have seen many better and more subtle Japanese movies that were critical to society. This is not one for my collection

It's a mystery to me why Oshima, and especially his movie Ceremony ( although my personal favourite is Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence) doesn't get the recognition he deserves, among the greatest directors. Possibly because, apart for the famous In the realm of the senses, very few have watched his films. Ceremony, in my opinion, is his best film. It is extraordinary how he constructs the narration of this family saga, and how he makes it resonate with thoughts and feelings in every minute of it, putting in shame all of the more applauded asian family stories that became famous movies over the kast decades. But he also surpasses many acclaimed European directors of his time. Ceremony is an undisputed masterpiece that you watch shivering , a proof that cinema can be made out of pure magic!

I have seen this film in the late eighties, together with other Oshima's movies and I could collect only a vague impression of exoticism. This before I visited Japan, where I currently live.

I have seen it again last night and I can confirm that "Gishiki" portrays some of the most specific aspects of the Japanese culture. It is a movie deeply ingrained with the rebellion against traditional culture and family, which is typical of the late sixties-early seventies, not only in Japan, but also in Europe. The same can be said of the use of sexuality as a powerful device to offset the established values.

The powerful Sakurada clan is brought to ruin by the same force that keeps it together, the powerful grandfather. This happens in a sequence of rigidly choreographed family reunions, in occasions of funerals and weddings spanning several years following the end of the world. In this sense the world of the Sakuradas is so traditional that many scenes could be set in medieval Japan, with minor modifications in the dialogs and costumes. Ritual suicides and uncompassioned sex are recurring estranging events which follow and precede these ceremonies.

At the end what has been taken away from the protagonist is his very childhood, and hence his possibility to exist as a human being.