Reviewed by Glenn Erickson
The alarmingly provocative director Seijun Suzuki pulls off a grand slam with this bold and
confrontational sordid melodrama. It is a gauntlet thrown in the face of official occupation
history, with its image of an optimistic Japan pulling itself up by its bootstraps. It's also
a stylistic
triumph that makes the color-coded extremes of Vincente Minnelli and Douglas Sirk pale by
comparison.
Synopsis:
A group of prostitutes in immediate post-war Tokyo eke out a living of sensual
savagery that shows
no mercy to its own members. They're not allowed to hook the hated American soldiers, and 'giving it
away for free' under any circumstances is a ticket to cruelly sadistic whippings. Young rape victim
Maya (Yumiko Nogawa) finds her only home with the girls, quickly adjusting to their harsh and hateful
rules. The enclave of female rage is penetrated by Shintaro Ibuki (Jo Shishido), a spiteful Army
'returnee' who specializes in crimes against the American occupiers. The girls nurse Shintaro's
wounds; it isn't long before they break their code with him, with disastrous results.
Snapping at the camera, Maya lists all the things she detests and spits on, and Seijun Suzuki cuts
to a full frame shot of the American flag waving proudly. In the occupation slum hell of Japan's
burned-out capital, American GI's roam and rape at will while Yakuza thieves are everywhere. Our
girl-gang of hookers have made a deal with the Yakuza for a certain territory and defend it fiercely.
Their only badge of honor is their refusal to service the Yankee conquerors. Star Jo Shishido's
unregenerate crook wants to avenge beloved husbands, boyfriends and brothers lost in the war, and his
presence evokes sentiments that the savage band of prostitutes cannot bear. Betrayals and bloodshed
follow.
Above and beyond the raw subject matter of defiant vice and semi-pornographic violence, Suzuki and
his inspired production designer Takeo Kimura create a highly artificial and garishly colored
environment that looks like a beautiful comic book set in hell. Every set evokes real bombing
destruction and slum conditions. Trash clogs the canals. People live in filthy concrete structures
torn
in half and left standing like opened honeycombs. Background buildings are often forced-perspective
sets, and sometimes even painted backdrops that resemble expressionist abstractions. All are
photographed in blazing candy color (Fujicolor?) with a refreshingly clear visual sense. Gate of
Flesh is garish, but it's never disorganized or random. In terms of color impact, it's to
sordid sex drama what
Singin' in the Rain is to
the musical - a visual feast. One sequence breaks down into abstract tableaux in contrasting
colors that remind us of the fashion show in the Donen-Kelly musical, at least in terms of
visual impact.
The script isn't entirely nihilistic, as the girls reveal despairing emotions beneath their
cruel exteriors. Some yearn for marriage and Maya mourns her lost brother. Yet Maya's rage leads her
to destroy the film's only positive element. American actor Chico Roland plays a black preacher who
is the only gaijin to come to Maya's aid when she is raped, but she later shows him no
mercy, as if she can no longer bear the possible moral hope he represents. It's a very bleak
development.
Shintaro is also a rough
customer, but a key scene has him using a veteran's battle flag to cover his head while he cries
for his lost comrades and ideals. Falling in love in this environment is a one-way ticket to doom,
but we feel for the characters every step of the way. The movie is lurid but not simply
sensationalistic, a quality that sets pictures by Suzuki, Masumura and some Fukasaku apart from
others. Suzuki creates a richly artificial world that reveals his version of historical truth.
Gate of Flesh has ample nudity and sexuality, held under close restraint for censorship
purposes. It's all there, but clever lighting and blocking make such shots beautiful instead of
trashy. Much more disturbing is a scene where Shintaro and the girls butcher a cow in
graphic detail.
Cultural ignorance note # 3247: The pictogram script for Nikutai no mon has a pair of
symbols that look like a literal gate. I wonder if this is a coincidence, or a carryover from
the Chinese.
Criterion's DVD of Gate of Flesh has an eye-popping enhanced transfer and excellent sound;
the film is a visual feast for the eyes, guaranteed to cure color blindness. Shigeyoshi Mine's
rich photography almost has a 3-D quality, it is so textured.
As with its twin release Story of a Prostitute, producer Curtis Tsui's disc has an incisive
interview docu with the director and his production designer. They talk of their enthusiasm for
the project and their clever ruses to steal studio resources to build their highly imaginative sets.
Suzuki also talks about his assignment to make a 'sensational erotic' film that could pass the
Japanese censor. Gate of Flesh must break some kind of record for salacious content that
minimizes actual incidents of 'quantifiable' nudity.
A stills gallery and original trailer are included. Chuck Stephens' liner note essay is one of
the best I've read about a Japanese film, communicating its unique qualities in almost poetic
terms.
On a scale of Excellent, Good, Fair, and Poor,
Gate of Flesh rates:
Movie: Excellent
Video: Excellent
Sound: Excellent
Supplements: Video interview with director Seijun Suzuki and art director Takeo Kimura;
theatrical trailer; Stills gallery; essay by Asian cinema critic Chuck Stephens
Packaging: Keep case
Reviewed: August 6, 2005
DVD Savant Text © Copyright 2007 Glenn Erickson
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