Introduction

One of the most famous Japanese ghost stories is, without a doubt, Yotsuya Kaidan. It has been adapted to the silver screen and the small screen numerous times. Such popularity, of course, invites the critic to compare the different versions made of the famous Kabuki play.

Last time, we reviewed Masaki Mori’s The Ghosts of Yotsuya (1956) – our anchor point to organize our comparative exploration. This time, we contrast Mori’s version with Nobuo Nakagawa’s take on the vengeful ghost story. Nakagawa’s version was based on the screenplay by Masayoshi Onuki and Yoshihiro Ishikawa.

Review

Okayama, Bizen. Lowly-ranked samurai Iemon Tamiya (Shigeru Amachi) approaches Samon (Shinjiro Asano) to ask his daughter’s hand in marriage. Yet, Samon refuses and states that he will never give Iwa (Katsuko Wakasugi) to a libertine like him. When Samon starts spouting more vile signifiers, Iemon loses all control and slashes his elder down.

Yet, thanks to the help of Naosuke (Shuntaro Emi), Iemon succeeds in convincing Iwa and her younger sister Sode (Noriko Kitazawa) that the murderer of Samon is Ozawa Osaburo, who attempted to rob their father in the past. Iwa demands Yomoshichi (Ryuzaburo Nakamura) to postpone his marriage with Sode until after they, with the kind help of Iemon, enacted their vengeance.

The kabuki-chant that opens The Ghost Of Yotsuya immediately reveals that the horror of the narrative concerns the fury of a woman maddened. Her fury, as is elegantly underlined by the song, is not due to being murdered as such, but because her murderous husband cruelly annihilates the marital bond; he radically betrays the symbolic bond thought to last eternally. The spectator, thus, knows from the very beginning the central act that will shift the dramatic narrative turns into a horror one – the murderous act that wrongs a female subject. 

This introductory sequence makes it clear that The Ghosts of Yotsuya (1956) and The Ghost of Yotsuya have a different narrative structure – tell their story differently. While all the important elements are the same in both films, they are organized in a different way. The Ghosts of Yotsuya, for instance, exploits the element of mystery to engage the spectator – i.e. the passing of an unclear signifier pointing to something yet unsaid and unshown – and utilizes flashback to slowly unearth Iemon’s criminal secrets. Ghost of Yotsuya, however, starts off by showing Iemon’s crime and explores the subjective and relational consequences of this sudden burst of violent anger. By letting the story unfold chronologically, Nakagawa puts more emphasis on the way Iemon’s crime burdens and corrupts him and the way Naosuke, the sole witness and his helping hand, attains the power to further manipulate him into betraying and perverting the ego he so carefully tries to uphold (Narra-note 1).   

The biggest difference between both narratives is the near absence of Iemon’s mother and the function of the masseur Takuetsu (-) (Narra-note 2). In The Ghosts of Yotsuya, it is via her character and her schemes that the perverting effect of the materialistic fantasy is illustrated. What she wants is not simply to rise in the social ranks, but to attain what can radically silence her desire: objects of wealth. In Ghost of Yotsuya, the subject who searches for glistering objects to possess is no one other than Iemon himself. That Iwa is such a glistering object, merely obtained to support his samurai ego, his facade, is underlined when he, without any calms, offers his wife as collateral to obtain some coin. In Iemon’s psyche, both money and women have the same function: dupe himself and the other into believing he is a phallic and righteous samurai (Narra-note 3).    

The composition of The Ghost of Yotsuya is full of beautiful and highly satisfying dynamic shots – some of the tracking shots are pure art. Such dynamism, beyond being visually pleasing, is also exquisitely utilized to heighten the drama within the narrative and to add some shock to certain horror imagery. Nakagawa also litters his narrative with static moments whose compositional tensions are not merely pleasing but also subtly evocative. Either Nakagawa lets his compositions whisper a subtle signified or invite, by elegantly playing with suggestion, the spectator to visualize the not-yet visualized horror (Cine-note 1). 

In contrast to The Ghosts of Yotsuya, which was brought to life in monochrome colours, Ghost of Yotsuya is shot in colour. While the shift form monochrome to polychrome colours radically changes the visual feel of the narrative, one cannot say that one is better than the other. Both colour-design support, in their specific way, the atmosphere of the narrative. While the monochrome colour-schemes succeed better to emphasize the bleakness of the tragedy, the use of colour allows Nakagawa to give his composition a more elegant flair.

Yet, despite using colours, Nakagawa heavily relies on contrasts between light and shadow. This play does not only allow him to emphasize compositional tensions, but also to enables him to make the images of horror, the infraction of the vengeful otherworldly, more effective. This play with contrasts combined with the exquisitely dramatic music makes the hallucinatory quality of the horror-finale highly satisfying and unforgettable.  

The musical accompaniment, which of course draws inspiration from Kabuki, is highly effective in emphasizing thedramatic turns the narrative takes and accompanying the radical disturbance of the mundane by the vengeful spirits.Luckily, just like in The Ghosts of Yotsuya, the musicdoes not overpower the performances. In our view, both elements cross-fertilize each other. The music does not merely invite the spectator to relish the dramatic tension that fuels the casts’ bodily movements, but the dramatic tensions and rhythms of movement empower the dramatic impact of the musical pieces on the spectator. 

Yet, it must be said, Shigeru Amachi is no Tomisaburo Wakayama (Narra-note 4). While Amachi succeeds in giving Iemon a cold calculative attitude that will not generate any sympathy from the spectator, Wakayama’s performance, due to way he controls his presence, is superior. Let’s put it differently, while Wakayama steals the show in Ghosts of Yotsuya, it is the exquisitely composed finale of The Ghost of Yotsuya that is unforgettable.

The Ghost of Yotsuya might not be supported by an extra-ordinary performance, but Nakagawa succeeds in delivering an unforgettable finale that, due to its hallucinatory feel, mesmerises the spectator with its haunting imagery. While the narrative does not quite qualify as a classic, the finale does – it’s simply moving art. 

Notes

Narra-note 1: Some spectators might wonder why Iemon does not murder Naosuke right away. Quite simply, he needs him to back up the story they concocted; he needs him to safeguard his facade of a righteous samurai and keep his vile transgression hidden from the Other.

Narra-note 2: In The Ghost of Yotsuya, Takuetsu takes over Naosuke’s role of telling Iwa about Iemon meeting Naosuke and his meetings with Ume. Rather than being someone who forces Iemon to betray his ego, he is the one who seduces Iemon to take his materialistic tendency further and transgress the law for his own financial benefit.    

Narra-note 3: It might be surprising to some that the murder of his wife affects Iemon. Yet, it is precisely due to Iemon’s statement that we can fleetingly perceive that subjective uneasiness the intoxication with materialism fundamentally causes.

Narra-note 4: One reason why Wakayama’s Iemon is unforgettable is that he, due to the narrative emphasis on his subjective conflict, has more to work with – his Iemon has more depth. Amachi’s Iemon is great, but he lacks some subjective depth.

Cine-note 1: In a few instances, the colour red adorns Iemon, subtly echoing the vile transgressive nature of his acts.