Zigeunerweisen

Suzuki is generally known for his outrageous, eye-popping imagery. I think his films actually contain a lot of depth and are great besides that imagery, but I know it's the visuals that bring him his fame. This film, independently produced after a long hiatus from film-making, is a different kind of Suzuki. A VERY different Suzuki. Zigeunerweisen, named after a musical composition that plays a couple of times during the film and a record of which plays an important part of the plot, is a rather slowly paced art film, a very long one at that, with an almost European feeling. There are a few striking images in its two and a half hours (most notably a woman licking a man's eyeball), but it isn't the phantasmagoria of Suzuki's earlier films, or his later films. The dialogue is often weird and poetic. My favorite line was "You caress me as if sucking my very bones." The film takes place during the Taisho period, which occurred after the Meiji Restoration during the 20s and 30s. It is a period marked by further Westernization and a loss of traditional values (I might be wrong, but I think Oshima's In the Realm of the Senses is set during the same period). The story involves two friends, a professor and a vagabond, and their relationships with their wives, as well as a geisha they once met on a vacation. There isn't too much story, per se. The vagabond marries a woman who looks identical to the geisha, but doesn't stay faithful, or even at home. The film is mostly told from the point of view of the professor (played by Toshiya Fujita, the director of Lady Snowblood). Like I said, the film is very deliberately paced. It was hard to stay interested at times. But the movie moves toward a mysterious and haunting finale. I don't think I get it, but I found the whole film intriguing, at least. Not my favorite Suzuki by a long shot, but maybe I'll understand it better on a subsequent viewing (which probably won't happen for a long while).

The film follows the relationship between two men in early middle age. One is a prim university professor and the other is some sort of "wild man" masculine archetype.

Like in Rouroni Kenshin, the time period for this film is one where the modern Japan and the traditional Japan were clashing, at least in fashion choices. The professor dresses in formal European attire, while the wild man is invariable seen in an ominous black kimono.

Yet the archetypes they represent are universal, not specifically Japanese. The professor, unemotional and flabberghasted into silence at the sight of anything out of the ordinary, is reserved and inhibited, representing civilization. The wild man goes about the world following his whims, getting involved sexually with a bevy of women and doing anything he can to satiate his curiosity. In conversation he is open, apparently always expressing whatever emotion-tinged crazy ideas come into his mind and running with them. Yet are they really so crazy? We see much of the unspoken thoughts that reside in all of our minds in his dialogues. He simply does not have the filter to keep them back.

It's too surreal to effectively convey its message, if indeed it has any message at all, but it's effective at creating a certain ambiance. Although the professor doesn't show himself to be very moved, we are enthralled by the wild man's antics that leave a trail of broken hearts and destruction in their wake. Whether he's manhandling women, speaking glibly about death, or simply sitting there in his striking black cape and eyepatch, we are always interested in discovering what outrageous thing he will do next.

Honourable Mentions: The Great Santini (1979). Robert Duvall tried to embody the quintessential male in his ageing marine in this film, but it came up short. Santini is rough and wild in his own way, but he lacks the mystique and outlandish outrageousness of Nagasako, still very much trapped in convention and thus not as interesting.

"Zigeunerweisen" is often hailed as one of the great masterpieces of Japanese cinema, but I would argue it is actually a cold, unkind film that pushes its audience away. What we get is a string of dreamlike images without a solid narrative backbone, making emotional engagement almost impossible. Doing "art" in film without story is like making music without melody. The surprise lasts maybe five minutes, boredom sets in after ten, and stretched across an entire feature it becomes unbearable. Had this been the work of an unknown director, how many people would have truly endured such tedium? For me, this film is a textbook example of something grossly overvalued under the label of "cult."

That said, Seijun Suzuki's career is far richer than this. If you want to see what makes him genuinely compelling, start with Youth of the Beast-a film Quentin Tarantino himself has praised. I would also point to Carmen from Kawachi, which I personally admire, and Tokyo Drifter, beloved by self-proclaimed cinephiles. Dismissing Suzuki entirely because of the pretension of "Zigeunerweisen" would be a mistake. These three films, at least, are well worth your time.

I'm a huge Suzuki fan, but this was one I had never got a chance to see. Well I finally did and its surreal. I guess all his films are that way, but this one was really out there for me. Really beautiful and interesting all at the same time. He's the master so I just love watching whatever he puts out. If you're a Suzuki fan, watch for sure. If not then it may be too much for you.

Zigeunerweisen, which translates to Gypsy Airs from German and refers to a recording by Spanish violinist Pablo de Sarasate, is the first part of director Suzuki Seijun's Taisho Roman Trilogy. Let me explain these elements a little bit further. The movie title refers to the recording because the two lead characters are listening to it and trying to figure out the violinist's words that are briefly being uttered. The trilogy refers to films taking place during the Taisho era between 1912 and 1926. Said era is often interpreted as inspired by arts, democracy, diplomacy, individualism and liberalism. All three films tell romantic dramas with hints at gothic ghost stories.

This first movie marked a remarkable independent return for veteran director Suzuki Seijun thirteen years after his last movie Branded to Kill created for production company Nikkatsu Corporation. The director was fired by the corporation for a lack of focused scriptwriting and commercial acclaim and successfully sued the company over many years which led to dramatic changes in Japan's cinematic industry. In the meantime, Suzuki Seijun had only created negatively received social satire A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness. Zigeunerweisen was shown in inflatable tents on convenience stores and in public places rather than in public or private cinemas which gathered a lot of attention. The movie is thus also the most commercially successful of the trilogy.

The story revolves around two intellectual former colleagues and friends who couldn't be more different from each other. Aochi is calm, gentle and organized as he prioritizes stability over experiments. Nakasago is wild, rough and disorganized and values experiments over stability. Aochi suffers greatly from believing his wife might have a romantic relationship with Nakasago. On the other side, Nakasago doesn't only seduce his friend's wife but also becomes smitten with a geisha. In his despair, Aochi bonds with Nakasago's abandoned wife during one of his prolonged absences. Despite those struggles, the two men remain friends and the morbid Nakasago suggests that whoever outlives the other should get the other's bones. When Nakasago dies alone in the countryside due to a drug overdose, Aochi continues to be haunted by his friend through his wife's admiration for him, the deceased's geisha's frequent visits and the strange daughter of the dead man.

This movie discusses numerous different themes such as death, desire, family, friendship and love. The film thus inspires profound discussions among cineasts. The mysterious story has several interesting changes and shifts and concludes on a surprising note. The acting performances are excellent throughout. The settings in rural Japan are wonderful to observe. The elegant costumes are truly inspiring. The soundtrack based upon classical music provides much atmosphere.

The film however suffers from its excessive length, clocking in at an ambitious one hundred forty-four minutes, that starkly contrasts the filmmaker's previous films that usually weren't longer than ninety minutes. Especially the movie's middle section is particularly slow, focuses on much repetition and doesn't properly develop the plot. The movie's commercial success was mostly due to its circumstances and presentation but not due to its content and quality.

At the end of the day, Zigeunerweisen is a mysterious drama that should appeal to intellectual audiences, experienced cineasts and people interested in the Taisho era. This movie is however too ambitious, complicated and long to appeal to wider audiences. Its overall style hasn't aged very well either and looks particularly old-fashioned by contemporary standards. You must muster a lot of attention, patience and time to fully embrace this experimental feature film.