Ugetsu

Set in 16th-century Japan amidst a brutal civil war, "Ugetsu" follows two peasant villagers, Genjūrō, a potter, and Tōbei, a farmer, who seek fortune and glory. Genjūrō is driven by the desire for wealth, hoping to profit from the war by selling his pottery. Tōbei, his brother-in-law, dreams of becoming a respected samurai. Despite the pleas of their wives, Miyagi and Ohama, to remain safely at home, the men are consumed by their ambitions.

Their journey to the city leads them down divergent paths. Genjūrō's craftsmanship attracts the attention of the enigmatic and beautiful Lady Wakasa, who lures him into a world of sensual pleasure and luxury at her seemingly magnificent estate. Meanwhile, Tōbei, through a stroke of luck, manages to gain a position as a samurai, complete with armor and followers. Both men achieve their desires, but at a great and unforeseen cost to the families they left behind, blurring the lines between their earthly ambitions and a haunting supernatural realm.

"Ugetsu" serves as a powerful allegory about the destructive nature of human ambition, particularly when it eclipses familial duty and compassion. Director Kenji Mizoguchi uses the backdrop of a war-torn nation to explore how the pursuit of wealth and status can lead to moral decay and immense suffering, especially for women who are often the silent victims of men's follies. The film suggests that true happiness and fulfillment are not found in material gain or societal recognition, but in the simple, profound connections of family and home. It is a cautionary tale, warning that straying from one's responsibilities in pursuit of illusory desires can have tragic, irreversible consequences, and that the greatest treasures are often the ones we leave behind.

While "Ugetsu" is widely seen as a cautionary tale about ambition and a critique of war, several alternative and complementary interpretations exist.

A Feminist Reading: Some critics view "Ugetsu" as a fundamentally feminist film. This interpretation suggests that the supernatural elements are manifestations of female power in a patriarchal society that otherwise suppresses them. Lady Wakasa, though a ghost, exerts immense power over Genjūrō, subverting typical gender roles. Miyagi's ghost, in the end, becomes the guiding moral force for her husband. Both female spirits are seen as products of a male-dominated world that led to their deaths, and their ghostly presences represent a form of justice or retribution.

A Buddhist Interpretation: The film can also be read through a Buddhist lens, emphasizing the illusory nature of the material world and the suffering caused by desire. Genjūrō's and Tōbei's pursuits of wealth and fame are forms of attachment that lead them down a path of suffering. Genjūrō's enchantment with Lady Wakasa represents a deep dive into illusion (*maya*), from which he must be awakened by a priest. The film's conclusion, where Genjūrō finds peace in his work and accepts the loss of his wife, can be seen as an attainment of a more enlightened perspective, understanding the transient nature of life and finding meaning in duty and remembrance.

A Psychological Reading: From a psychological standpoint, Lady Wakasa can be interpreted not as a literal ghost, but as a projection of Genjūrō's own desires and repressed fantasies. She represents the ultimate temptation—a life of erotic pleasure, wealth, and artistic appreciation, completely divorced from responsibility. His journey to her mansion is a descent into his own subconscious, and his eventual 'exorcism' is the painful process of confronting his delusions and returning to the harsh reality he tried to escape.

"Ugetsu" is considered a landmark of Japanese cinema and a masterpiece of world cinema. Released in 1953, it arrived on the international scene shortly after Akira Kurosawa's "Rashomon" (1950) and, together, these films were instrumental in introducing Western audiences to the richness and artistry of Japanese filmmaking. The film's success at the Venice Film Festival, where it won the Silver Lion, cemented director Kenji Mizoguchi's reputation as one of the great masters of cinema.

Historically, "Ugetsu" was created in a post-WWII Japan still grappling with the trauma of war and militarism. Many critics interpret the film as an allegory for the nation's disastrous wartime ambitions, with the protagonists' pursuit of wealth and glory leading to ruin serving as a critique of Japan's recent past. The suffering of the female characters, particularly the violation of Ohama, has been seen as a reflection on the plight of "comfort women" during the war. Mizoguchi himself made a propaganda film, "The 47 Ronin," during the war, and some see "Ugetsu" as an expression of his regret.

The film's influence on cinema has been profound. Its visual elegance, characterized by long takes, flowing camera movements (often called "scroll shots"), and masterful use of light and shadow, has been studied and admired by filmmakers for decades. It had a notable impact on the French New Wave, with directors like Jean-Luc Godard and François Truffaut citing Mizoguchi as a major influence. Esteemed American directors such as Martin Scorsese and Paul Schrader have also lauded the film, with Scorsese's Film Foundation helping to fund its 4K restoration. Its blend of social realism with supernatural folklore created a unique cinematic language that has inspired countless ghost stories and fantasy films since.

Upon its release, "Ugetsu" was highly acclaimed by critics, particularly in the West, where it won the Silver Lion at the 1953 Venice Film Festival and helped solidify the international reputation of Japanese cinema. Critics have consistently praised its stunning visual beauty, masterful cinematography by Kazuo Miyagawa, and the seamless blending of stark realism with ethereal, supernatural elements. The film is frequently cited as one of the greatest films ever made, lauded for its poetic, dream-like atmosphere and its profound, humanistic themes.

The main points of praise focus on Mizoguchi's elegant direction, particularly his signature long takes and fluid camera movements that create a hypnotic and immersive experience. The performances, especially by Kinuyo Tanaka as the long-suffering Miyagi and Machiko Kyō as the ghostly Lady Wakasa, are also widely celebrated. While there are few points of significant criticism, some modern viewers might find its pacing deliberate. However, this is generally seen as integral to its haunting, contemplative mood. The film's powerful anti-war message and its poignant exploration of human weakness and the suffering of women continue to resonate deeply with audiences, solidifying its status as a timeless masterpiece.