A Drama of Superimposed Maps: Ozu's So Far from the Land of Our Parents

A Drama of Superimposed Maps: Ozu’s So Far From The Land of Our Parents Peter B. High Until fairly recently, Ozu Yasujiro’s attitude toward war and his activities during the “China Incident” and the ensuing Pacific War have received scant attention from film scholars. At least part of the reason is of course the almost universal esteem for his postwar oeuvre and an equally universal reverence for Ozu as one of the preeminent artists of cinema. In his prewar films depicting ordinary Japanese families, however, one can often discern a somewhat passive, war-affirming subtext. Even his postwar films feature a scattering of scenes in which characters remember the war with nostalgia or ambiguous regret. Such textual evidence (along with his own pronouncements published in the wartime era press) make it clear that, while he was never a war monger, he was never a member of the pacifist party. In the past decade or so, new research－most prominently that of Tanaka Masasumi (Ozu Yasujiro to Senso, Misuzu Shobo, 2005), as well as certain modest contributions from myself—has begun the penetrate the cordon sanitaire of “delicacy” which kept this subject veiled in obscurity during much of the postwar era. The results of this research hardly create the grounds for an assault on Ozu’s personal reputation; there is no credible evidence to depict him as a craven, undiscerning collaborator with the proto-fascist regime of the “Fifteen Year’s War” era. On the other hand, there is more than sufficient evidence to depict him as having been patriotically convinced of the essential rightness of his nation’s cause during the war and that this opinion created a strong motivational force both in his films and in his activities within the film industry of the time. This paper will focus on one little-known detail of his career in the early part of the Pacific War—the writing of a script for a war film which he apparently was quite eager to make—which demonstrates the manner in which he mobilized his talents in service to the war effort. **** Ozu was drafted on September 9, 1937, and sent to the central China front two weeks later as a corporal (gocho) in the Second Regiment of the Konoe Infantry 3 言語文化論集第 XXIX 巻第 2 号 Division (gas warfare section). As one of Japan’s most prominent cultural figures serving in the army at the time, he was frequently sought out by reporters from the national press. In early October, a correspondent for the Tokyo Asahi found him in the outskirts of Shanghai, directing military traffic with the small Japanese flag presented to him by his colleagues at Shochiku Ofuna. Inscribed on the flag were such slogans as “Fight for the honor of the film world!” along with the signatures of Shochiku’ top stars--Saburi Shin, Sano Shuji, Uehara Ken and Iida Choko.1 In another article published a few days later, Ozu was quoted as declaring, “War is an ennobling experience...I am confident I can make a vivid (ikita) war film based on my experiences here.”2 Twenty-two months later, after seeing action at Nanjing, Hsuchou and elsewhere, Ozu was sent back to the homeland and officially de-mobilized on July 16, 1939. In numerous subsequent interviews and zadankai (round-table discussions), he used his authority as an actual veteran to theorize on the nature of war film and to comment (often critically) on the quality of those being made in Japan. He also reported that he was under intense pressure to make a war film of his own. His public comments on the topic showed great ambivalence, swinging from detailed plot ideas to expres- sions of despair at ever being able to put them on film. The days immediately after his return from China found him in a negative frame of mind: “I made rough notes on my experiences at the front and how to use them, but then I went and left about half of them behind, so I still have no [clear plan].”3 Several weeks later, he put a different spin on things: “Nothing’s decided yet...but of course I’ll be making a war film.”4 In a long dialogue with Tasaka Tomotaka (director of the epoch-making Five Scouts) in August 1939, he announced that his first post- return film would be “a New Years comedy.” When Tasaka probed him about his war film plans, he promptly sketched out the following story idea: “A detachment of soldiers is waiting for orders to break out of an enemy encirclement...[By the time they break out], their numbers have been reduced to a quarter their original strength. The conclusion [will stress] how all this loss of life had not been in vain... I just don’t see myself making a film about some big victory. The good old films, like Beau Geste and Bengal Lancers, all have this sort of smell of defeat.”5 In Sep- tember, however, Ozu was blowing cold again, claiming that, “at the front, I never thought about film[making]. It never crossed my mind.”6 In November, we find him commenting with acid irony that “only people who have never experienced the real thing can actually make a war film.”7 4 A Drama of Superimposed Maps: Ozu’s So Far From The Land of Our Parents Ozu’s “New Years comedy” turned out to be Ochazuke no Aji (similar to, but not identical with the film released in 1952). The script, however, was rejected by pre- production censors in February 1940 and the film was never made. In an interview that same month, he seemed to sign off on any further war film plans: “Under present-day restrictions it is virtually impossible to make war dramas; that’ll have to wait until the [China] Incident is wrapped up.”8 Thereafter he lapsed into silence on the issue for almost two years. In mid-1942, the press section of the High Military Command (Dai Hon’ei Rikugun Hodobu) formally requested the film companies to make drama films covering the major theaters of action in the new war. Toho was assigned the Philippines and Daiei had Malaya/ Singapore. Shochiku was given the Burma (Myanmar) campaign and Ozu, along with screen writers Saito Ryosuke9 and Akiyama Kosaku, were set to preparing the script. Actual writing was carried out between September and Novem- ber 1942. Just why the script--tentatively titled Haruka nari Fubo no Kuni (“So Far From the Land of Our Parents”)10--was never filmed remains a mystery. In a postwar memorandum, Shindo Kaneto suggests that the military found it unacceptable, but since it was apparently never submitted for pre-production censorship, we have no clear documentary record of the reason(s) for its abandonment.11 At least one copy of the script (159 mimeographed pages stamped with “Shochiku Ofuna: for in-house use only”) still exists in the private archive of Makino Mamoru and is summarized below. It clearly draws on anecdotes Ozu had collected during his own tour of duty in China, and is rich in his dead-pan style of humor. This, along with its complex interweaving of themes and plot devices, strongly indicates that Ozu took the project seriously, pouring into it a full measure of his creative talents. For this reason, Haruka nari should be included in any consideration of the complete Ozu oeuvre. I. The Script for Haruka nari Fubo no Kuni A.) Proposed Casting of Characters The dramatis personae lists thirty-five characters, assigning specific actors to nine of the ten central roles. This seems to indicate that Ozu and his collaborators had these actors in mind as they wrote and had tailored the characters to the stars’ established screen personalities. This is apparent in the case of Sakamoto Takeshi, known to multitudes of late silent-era Ozu fans as “Kihachi,” the shiftless yet endear- ing father of the impish “Tokkan Kozo” in Dekigokoro (“Passing Fancy,” 1933) 5 言語文化論集第 XXIX 巻第 2 号 and other films. He is reincarnated here as the warm-hearted, semi-literate “Private Watanabe,” now well advanced into middle age and affectionately called Otots’an (“Pops”) by his younger comrades. Ryu Chishu, who had played the father in There Was A Father less than a year before, is assigned to play “Sgt. Adachi,” a career NCO whose gentle nature and self-effacing austerity have much in common with his previous role. Sano Shuji, who had co-starred in There Was A Father (1942) as Ryu’s son, was slated this time to appear as “Corporal Aihara,” a character only slightly younger than Ryu’s Adachi.12 A second call-up notice for Sano, who had also served in the China Incident, effectively removed him as a candidate for the part and may have led an element in Ozu’s abandonment of the project. B.) Annotated Plot Outline [Note: numbers below are the set-up numbers indicated in the script.] 1-5: Soldiers and tanks crossing a shallow river. On the road beyond, a line of soldiers is ordered left as a tank rumbles by, “leaving a cloud of dust in their sweaty faces.” 6: Soldiers marching. “The only thought in their minds is ‘On to Rangoon!’” 7-8: Maeda Company taking a short break. Cpl. Aihara (Sano Shuji) nurses a ciga- rette butt as Pfc. Watanabe (Sakamoto Takeshi) urinates in the grass. “His piss is blood red.” Pfc. Ikeuchi: How far to Rangoon? Sgt. Adachi (Ryu Chishu): Do you want it to be near or far? Ikeuchi: Near.

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