Cinespot : From Singapore with Love

From Singapore with Love

A Tale Of Twenty Four Eyes

In my first two rambling columns here, I spewed rants on two recent Korean films (Wishing Stairs and Coast Guard). Just in case you are wondering, I do not hate Korean films. I just hate bad movies. It is thus sheer coincidence that the two films that inspired my vehement hate recently were kimchi-flavoured garbage. But folks, do allow me to redress this malignant implication I may have unwittingly heaped onto the Korean film industry. Good films do come out of that wonderful country too. In fact, one of my favourite films of 2003 happened to be this twisty psychological K-horror flick, A Tale of Two Sisters.

Ok, enough sucking up to the Koreans already.

Dear readers, you may be pleased to know that this latest column from the Sinnerman will not concern yet another Korean flick (however kinky, putrifyingly vile or morally twisted they may be). For with the new year's bliss inundating me and all, I think a change of pace is in order. I shall just put aside my sourpuss persona and present you here and now my other chirpier side; that I'm a masochistic manic-depressive too! Ergo, I feel mighty good after watching teary-eyed melodramas. I enjoy watching flicks where lots of people cry or lots of people die. In fact, the pleasure will be especially orgasmic, if said movies are Japanese, black and white, very long and very old. Nice.

Hence for this new column, I shall share with all a film I love immeasurably. It's this little-known classic J-flick that's been touted by many as "the most tear jerking Japanese films of all time." Wow! Are you ready to get all sad and weepy then? Either way, here goes my take on Twenty Four Eyes (Nijushi no Hitomi), a 1954 film directed by Japanese film master, Keisuke Kinoshita

Kinoshita masterfully took his time in unveiling the pathos buried within this exceptional work. Modern films almost never do that anymore...

Synopsis

Set in the late 1920's, in a story spanning close to three decades, Twenty Four Eyes is a gentle heartfelt movie charting the lives of a school teacher (the luminously beautiful Hideko Takamine) and her first twelve students. Most of this film's characters are simple folks residing in a nondescript fishing village along the Japanese coast. This film hence spins its sensitive tale against the backdrop of historical markers before, during and after World War II. It essays an affecting theme; the observance of Japanese traditions against rising national tides of pro-right wing, war hungry ideologies. Via its simple telling, we watch how the destinies of its respective protagonists meet and deviate. We glimpse into moments of innocence lost and beauty ravaged. We witness reality bites of loyalty compromised and idealism sullied. The harsh tides of change just keep on pounding. The memory-tinged tears just keep on flowing. 30 years of weariness, loss, pain and suffering, and one question arises: Was it all worth it?

My Closer Look

At its beginning, during happier times, Twenty Four Eyes was mostly filmed in mid to long distance shots. One thus found it hard to feel for any one individual. But this was a purposeful stylistic decision, for it helped to establish the idyllic tranquil of the movie's place and time. In this universe, the folks led simple lives. Theirs was a close-knit community where excitement would rise on the sightings of bicycle riding women (Hideko Hirayama’s teacher character), where even such slightest of stir would rip through the grapevine. This small coastal town was hence still untouched by urban influences and most of its people were not yet calibrated by the country’s industrialized modernity. Sadly, most were not (would not be) ready to cope with its impending social upheavals.

Harking back to happier times, I love those sweet earlier hours of school and lessons. For with broad simple strokes, Kinoshita managed to paint a collective mood of contented joys and youthful idealism between the teacher and her first twelve students. Via episodic presentation of their communal activities, from light hearted classroom chats, to jovial sing-a-long field trips, the bonds that bound these souls would help set in motion the melodramatic wheels of this unstoppably tear jerking film. For by the film's mid point, Twenty Four Eyes would kick up its dramatic gear. With an increasingly corresponded framing of closer proximity shots, illuminated focus were shone back onto those characters we once viewed from a distance. But the happy smiles so innocently flashed earlier were slowly wiped from those familiar faces.

Once we have crossed the fulcrum of this story (when those students hit Form Six, and thereafter), hints of troubles ahead started brewing. There were changes in the country's indoctrinated campaign for militarism. There were incremental stifling of free thoughts, in a land bent on instilling fears and subservience. There were sickness and deaths amongst friends and families, some by the ravages of war, some not. Children were put up for adoption and families uprooted due to poverty and destitution. Students were giving up their studies for all sorts of reasons - family obligation, blindsided patriotism or just plain helplessness. Young boys were shipped off to war, full of misguided allegiance to country and glory. They bore false hopes of returning victorious. How ironic then, that a generation of boys would die, never to become grown men. That girls would blossom into womanhood, only to discover a patriarchal society shackling their aspirations. That free-spirited idealists (the teacher) would be pounded into submission by events beyond their control. Those were all signs of the times.

By the closing chapters of this unbelievably melodramatic film, all the devices that could be used to wring tears out of its audience (I shan't tell you what) had been exhausted. It's indeed a marvel then, how Kinoshita accomplished it all with such earnest conviction. In fact, to those people who are easily put off by "dated" melodramas, best be warned; People cried a lot in this sweeping weepie. Strange enough, this manic writer did not weep (as he's often prone to do). And so its confirmed; his heart is rotten (or his tear ducts malfunctioned). But seriously, Twenty Four Eyes is still a great film in my eyes. And I have absolutely no qualms why it was named "the most tear jerking Japanese film of all time"; for unapologetically, this film placed the lives of the Japanese people firmly in its heart (and mind).

Made and released in the early 50's, just years after the trauma of WWII, Twenty Four Eyes must have seared the still raw psychological wounds of its intended audience. Its subject matter and thematic content spoke to them: From children of the lost generation to the parents who had lost these children. From people who were once ravaged by poverty, sickness, war and loss, to people still imprisoned by these compounded disenchantments. Viewed as a social document, Twenty Four Eyes might thus have served as a balm to those still haunted by that recent past. With grateful tears, the audiences shared in the collective journey of this good-hearted movie. Assimilating with their own personal experiences, this cathartic tale might have helped in mending the hearts of millions. It might have gently coerced a kindred population of broken lives into finding their respective closures. Or it might not. But I am willing to hazard a guess anyway.

Some Final Words

The version of Twenty Four Eyes I had the fortune of watching was actually only a Chinese subtitled, poorly transferred VCD. And its parallel imported from Hong Kong. (Yup, it's not even available in my country!). That may be one reason why said film was not as effective in soliciting tears out of this writer. I thus hope that one day, before I die, I will be able to attend a Keisuke Kinoshita retrospective (starting with Twenty Four Eyes of course). I hope for those uninitiated, like myself, we will be allowed a glimpse into the body of work of this lesser known film master. (Ozu Yasujiro and Akira Kurosawa do often come to mind whenever one thinks about classic Japanese cinema). In fact, I have one screaming suspicion; I will bawl like a baby if I do ever get to see Twenty Four Eyes, attention undivided, up close, personal and resplendently projected on any big white screen.

Oh yes, one last thing. I don't hate Korean movies. Really. So why did I bother mentioning A Tale of Two Sisters in this seemingly unrelated piece? Well, it's going to be the film subject for my next column. So folks, watch this space.

Have a great "monkey" year ahead of you, my good people! Later.

Written by Sinnerman