Humanity and Paper Balloons

Master filmmaker Sadao Yamanaka died at 28 years of age during the early 20th Century Imperial Japanese wars, but he left us with this beautiful ode to the common folk, living in a poor street in Edo (today's Tokyo).

Before watching an old film, I always worry that it will be antiquated and boring, but it feels modern instead. Why? Because people were not very different back then, and good naturalist acting shows them as our neighbours. Portentous or stilted acting is not exclusive of black and white movies, but technology and rapid editing techniques masks the inadequacies of contemporary directors. The characters in "Humanity..." are not actually modern, they're real.

Much is implied instead of shown, but what appears on screen is entertaining and depressing at the same time. This slice of life tells a simple story of low class people confronting their social superiors and trying to get ahead in life, while maintaining their honor and their sense of agency.

Recommended.

Japanese director Sadao Yamanaka made 24 films in his short seven year career. He was a key figure in establishing Japanese period films, along with fellow cinema giants Ozu, Mizoguchi and Naruse. When World War II came, he was drafted into the Imperial Army, and tragically lost his life in 1938 at the age of 28. After the war ravaged key cities in Japan, most of his films were destroyed or lost, and now only three survive (in near-complete forms). God bless Masters of Cinema, the UK's answer to America's Criterion Collection, for remastering and re- introducing this forgotten gem to the world and giving it a DVD release, following years of obscurity.

The film focuses on a poor area of Tokyo in the late 18th century, where the penniless ronin Unno (Chojuro Kawarasaki) lives amongst the lower classes, struggling to find work. He is desperate to hand a letter written by his late father to the local gang boss, who repeatedly snubs and undermines him. The town is already in shock and mourning following the third suicide in recent weeks, so hairdresser Shinza (Kan'emon Nakamura) throws a party to boost the spirits of the local samurai, yet finds himself falling foul of the local gang for holding an unauthorised gambling party in their territory.

For all the usual gentle beauty of Japanese cinema of the period that is so prominent here, Humanity and Paper Balloons is shockingly pessimistic. The film begins and ends with suicide, and that feeling of unavoidable tragedy prevails throughout the film, as we see samurai reduced to desperate and begging hangers-on. Yamanaka makes clear his opinion of society in feudal Japan, portraying it as a rather savage and hopeless place to exist for the lower classes. Perhaps Yamanaka foresaw Japan's ill-fated siding with the Nazi's which saw Japanese society obliterated by fire-bombings and nuclear weapons. Yet it still manages to be humorous in that typical kooky Japanese way, in the same vein of some of Kurosawa's lighter films. Given this was Yamanake's final film before he went off to fight the war, it seems a fitting exit to a short career, yet tragic given that (judging from this) Yamanaka could have gone on to become a giant in his field. A slight, yet powerful film.

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Humanity and Paper Balloons is a jidaigeki period drama that subtly defuses the myth surrounding the samurai class through a poor ronin samurai who gets desperate and abets a kidnapping. While the protagonist of the film, a hairdresser, through his cunning tries to earn respect and climb up the societal ladder.

The movie is set in the dying period of the Tokugawa era. This movie comes at an age where jidaigeki movies used to glorify the samurai class which was the highest social class above the farmer and craftsmen while merchants occupied the lowest strata. Humanity and Paper Balloons spits on the existing fascist trend of showing unreal themes of majestic samurai warriors valiantly fighting through their heroic life and never tainting their honor. The movie tries to capture the darker realities of the acclaimed peaceful Edo period which, although started in the 1600s with rapid economic growth, strict social order and popular enjoyment of arts and culture, decayed through the years and ended in 1868. It does this by showcasing how samurai warriors can be corrupt, low class merchants with money and mafia can be influential and powerful and a poor and low-class person like a barber can be more crafty and honorable.

The plot opens with the suicide of a disgraced poor Samurai. It portrays a sordid world where the humiliated suffering samurais now mingle with the lower-classes and small-time merchants, who are at the mercy of stuffy corrupt officials. Mori, a high ranking samurai who turned his back on his fellow ronins indulges in defaced practices. Merchants employ thugs to police the slum apart from the inept regular police. A low class hair dresser takes up the central role while trying to gain respect in the society and kidnaps a pawnbroker's daughter who was set to be married to a high class samurai family.

Like all Yamanaka's films, Humanity and Paper Balloons is a jidaigeki, but one poles apart from the majestic spectacle of, say, Akira Kurosawa's later works for this very same studio that were made after the war. The film is deeply pessimistic, insisting that life in feudal Japan was hellish and short for those at the foot of the social ladder.

Filmed in conjunction with the radical Zenshin-za theatre group, Humanity and Paper Balloons, Sadao Yamanaka's tragi-comic tribute to the poor and working classes in the 18th century during the Edo period is a treasure of world cinema. A contemporary of Ozu, Naruse, and Mizoguchi, Yamanaka made 22 films before his death in Manchuria in 1938 at the age of 29 but sadly only three have survived. Humanity and Paper Balloons is a jidaigeki or historical period film whose power lies not only in the social realist message that depicts the hardships endured by the poor but in its delineation of character, its humor, and the beautiful cinematography that captures the claustrophobic nature of the village in which the story takes place.

Based on a Kabuki play known as Shinza the Barber, the film opens with an unseen suicide by a disgraced samurai who hangs himself out of desperation. While the death is being investigated, local tenants hold a wake (drinking the landlord's sake) that turns into a evening of merriment, ostensibly to cleanse the evil that lingers in the village. As the party proceeds, Yazuka boss Yataguro and his gang look for Shinza (Kanemon Nakamura), a hairdresser, to exact revenge for the gambling parties he has sponsored in their territory. Shrugging off the danger he faces, Shinza, an appealing but naive character, continues to hold gambling parties and pushes the envelope even further by kidnapping the daughter of the wealthy merchant Shirokoya to cause the local bosses to lose face.

Meanwhile a poor Ronin named Matajuro Unno (Chojuro Kawarasaki) desperately wants a meeting with Mori, a samurai official, who knew his father and who he feels owes him a debt of gratitude but he is continuously rebuffed. As Unno's attempts to meet and talk with Mori fail, his wife (Shizue Yamagishi) ekes out a living by making paper balloons and all of the strands of the film come together at the end with tragic consequences. Although the story is bleak, the film is lightened considerably by its humor and intelligent interplay of character.

Like Hirokazu Koreeda in his 2004 film Hana Yori mo Naho, Yamanaka masterfully challenges the legend of the samurai as heroes and shows how the Bushido code of honor was ultimately empty of compassion and common sense. Humanity and Paper Balloons, true to its title, is a film of deep and abiding humanity that has finally been restored by Eureka Entertainment's Masters of Cinema Series to its proper place among the all time film classics.

This is a brilliant film. A story about a poverty stricken part of Edo (Tokyo) in the feudal era of Japan, the film concerns itself with its inhabitants, all of which are superbly written and realized. The best role went to Nakamura Kanemon as Shinzu The Barber. His character is contrary, proud and kind of fearless. The depiction of poor but somewhat brutish samurai is also greatly written. The story begins with a suicide and while is generally an unhappy film there is a bit of dark comedy in it. One of the saddest things was this was director Yamanaka Sadeo's swan song, as he died in the war shortly thereafter. Sadder still is that most of his films have been lost, but you still have this film, an utterly mesmerizing tale of the poor who somehow accept their fate and do not make it a millstone around their neck. See this, its a deserved classic.