Jake Ray
Last Thursday night I was sitting in a tiny Amtrak station in Bloomington, Illinois waiting for my train to take me to my beautiful girlfriend in Chicago. As I sitting there, I was joined by a group of stereotypical sorority girls from Illinois State University. For almost an hour I was subjected to their countless stories about meaningless sex, Lady Gaga and the "pounding of shots" that they were so excited to soon be doing in the windy city. By the time we boarded the train, I had realized that I was alone in the car with these five exhausting females. I scurried to the far back to make sure that I could secure a seat by myself and far away from these strangers.My efforts were in vain because one of them spotted my fraternity letters and found it necessary to try and sit next to me. "You're a frat boy, you may enjoy some of my stories". I could not think of any other way to make her leave me alone, so I whipped out my laptop and started watching my next film from the 1077. "What 'cha watchin'" she asked. I answered - "a black and white Japanese anti-war movie made in 1956". After hearing this, it did not take her long to jump out of her seat and rejoin her group of woo-girls. The Burmese Harp saved the day.Little did I know that this movie would not only save me from two hours of annoyance, but it would also be an extremely rewarding viewing experience. Though I was watching it on my laptop, I was still in awe of the Criterion DVD quality and the flawlessness of the hushed black and white. The cinematography is simple and the landscaping of Burma is vast and magnificent looking. It was easy to see that the filmmaker was not interesting in a mass amount of dialogue. It was the striking subtlety in the visual style that properly denoted the overall theme of the movie.The Burmese Harp is about a Japanese soldier stationed in Burma during the days immediately following the end of World War II. He has developed a love for playing the harp and uses it to signal danger to his troop. His playing is also used as a way to raise moral in the lonely mountains of Burma. Music, whether instrumental or vocal, plays a major role in the film. In fact, it seemed like the majority of the communication was presented through song. The sound of the harp is soothing and easy on the ears. It is a beautiful instrument that compliments the smooth visuals.The story is also vividly entertaining in is simplicity. After retreating to the British, the soldier - Mizushima - is sent to try and convince another Japanese troop to surrender. He fails in doing this and the entire troop is eventually killed by British forces. This leads to Mizushima, and his harp, being separated from his fellow soldiers and he is now left to roam the countryside of Burma. As we walks, he meets a spiritual leader and realizes the devastatingly high amount of Japanese casualties caused by the violence of World War II. He sees the bodies of thousands of soldiers with his own eyes. He is traumatized and dedicates his life to giving them a proper burial.The Burmese Harp is the first film by Kon Ichikawa to be seen outside of Japan. It is also one of the first Japanese movies to receive critical acclaim in the United States. What really makes it stand out is that it was the first example of an anti-World War II statement being made by the Japanese through cinema. We forget that everybody is hurt by war, and that the lines are not always as clear as good versus evil. The men in the Japanese army had families, kids and dreams of their own. They just wanted to return home - though they would find that home hardly existed as they knew it before the war.Yes, I may be in debt to The Burmese Harp for saving me from the incoherent ramblings of a loud and proud party animal, but I also legitimately enjoyed it on almost every level. This is a great movie and could serve as an outstanding introduction into Japanese, Asian or world cinema. I am a big fan. I immediately bought the Criterion DVD. You should borrow it sometime...
Cosmoeticadotcom
While a bit sentimental, it never veers into mawkishness, and the full five or so minute reading is one of the great humanist documents in cinema, perhaps even greater than Charlie Chaplin's speech at the end of The Great Dictator. Mizushima claims his new mission in life is monkdom, and helping to bury the war dead, and promote peace in the world. The film then makes an interesting decision, and one virtually uncommented on in any of the criticism of it I've read. After the letter is read, the film's narration (which opens the film, and is rather sparse) begins again. All along, viewers have been led to believe- via closeups of the captain's face during other narrations, that it is he who has been telling this film's story from some indefinite time in the future. But, no; the speaker, as the camera move sin, turns out to be a wholly anonymous member of the unit; one who had no prior scenes nor close-ups.Imagine, as example, had Herman Melville's novel Moby-Dick, not opened with Call me Ishmael, and the reader only found out who the narrator was on the last page, and had to guess if the narrator was omniscient, or a member of the Pequod, only to be startled their guess was wrong. The reason this is so important, looking back at the film, is that a) the point of view change from the expected narrator to another recapitulates the confusion that the troop has over whether or not the monk they see is their comrade- thus letting the viewer 'feel' the confusion that the internal characters are feeling- albeit for a different reason, b) it makes the viewer question whether or not what has been shown is true or not, since we now know the narrator is not the reliable and honorable captain- a character we would trust as reliable. This ties the whole film back to the more fairy tale like quality of the source novel. The final reason, c), it forces the viewer to wonder whether or not he or she has assumed other things that were not so in the narrative, even if one accepts that all the anonymous private has revealed is true.This is an astonishingly effective device that Ichikawa employs, and coming on the heels of the straightforward and moving missive revelation by Mizushima, the audacity of Ichikawa's narrative sleight of hand erases any doubts over whether this film is great or not. It is as great a film as his later Fires On The Plain, which, narratively and tonally, is almost the complete opposite of this film. But, the fact that such a key element in the film has never been commented upon before shows how little most critics actually pay attention to the subjects they criticize, as well as how little they understand how even a small moment, or the slight use of a technique, can radically change the whole tenor of a work of art. This is too often because the critics approach art with their own biases in tow, rather than viewing the work on its own merits. Another moment that has gone critically unnoticed is the scene on the bridge, between Mizushima (dressed as a monk) and his troop. This occurs two times. The first time, the viewer is as confused as the soldiers are, but the second time, the narrator tells the audience it was definitely Mizushima. Thus, we know that Mizushima's ruse will be found out, and this diverts the narrative tension from will the soldiers learn the truth of Mizushima? to how will they learn it, and will they learn why? This is not an insignificant narrative change of direction, but one, again, which never seems to have stirred critics.The DVD, put out by The Criterion Collection, is well transferred- the black and white hues are brilliant. However, the DVD lacks an audio commentary- an increasing annoyance with Criterion releases ever since they went to their new C logo. There are too all too brief interviews with Ichikawa and Renataro Mikuni, who played the captain. There is a trailer, and only subtitles, again in white- another bête noir of Criterion, for white subtitles often are lost against the whites of a black and white film. Colored subtitles are a must if no English dubbed soundtrack is to be added. The insert contains an essay on the film by film critic Tony Rayns, but it's a rather pedestrian take on the subject. Akira Ifukube's score is solid; the only real highlights are the delightful harp playing by Mizushima.Overall, The Burmese Harp is a great film. It is not one of those razzle-dazzle works of art that is flashy, but it gets the job done, and invites rewatchings to elicit subtleties one viewing may miss. It also kills the old notion that all war films- even those with explicitly anti-war themes- end up celebrating war because of the battle scenes and those scenes which show individual valor. Both this film and Fires On The Plain kill that notion; the former by eliding almost all scenes of battle, and the latter by the sheer devastation of the results of war it shows. It certainly deserved its nomination for an Academy Award as best Foreign Film, as well as numerous other festival awards. Ichikawa's reputation is that of a serviceable studio director, and that may be true; but the two films of his I've seen are the equals of the best films made by the titanic Japanese triumvirate of Yasujiro Ozu, Akira Kurosawa, and Kenji Mizoguchi. Here's hoping he has a few more deviations from that norm others claim for him.
crossbow0106
This story is about Mizushima, who was in a Japanese outfit in Burma at the end of World War 2. He mastered the harp and plays it for the regiment. The company finds out Japan has surrendered in the war and Mizushima is chosen to try to persuade a defiant Japanese unit to surrender, as otherwise they will be slaughtered by the British. They refuse to believe Japan has surrendered and are either killed or wounded. Mizushima, who unknown to his regiment survived the shelling, dons a monk's robes and has a new mission. This film is full of evocative images that make you think, make you feel regret and make you wonder, when all is said and done, what is it all for? To listen, for example, a company of British soldiers sing "There's No Place Like Home" and Mizushima accompany them on harp is tremendously powerful. What really blew me away about this film was that it felt like it was playing out in real time, as if it was actual footage of the war. I've not seen the 1985 remake also by Director Kon Ichikawa, but this is a powerful statement of the war that is pretty sobering. The film feels necessary to watch, which is about the best endorsement I can give.
