Naruse likes unexpected bursts
of voiceover narration and the surprise of introducing
a flashback in a narrative that until then has been
strictly present tense. In the last section of Late
Chrysanthemums (54), an adaptation of several
Hayashi stories, unexpected voiceover narration by
an ex-geisha makes explicit the lack of feeling remaining
between her and her former lover, even though outwardly
the scene looks like meetings they had in their youth.
The single flashback to happier days in Mother (52)
is the more poignant for being so sharp and short.
In Scattered Clouds, sudden flashbacks to
the widowed heroine’s married life portray
her lost happiness with a characteristic Narusean
blend of curtness and lyricism. Three Sisters
with Maiden Hearts even has a flashback within
a flashback, though that is perhaps less startling
than the fantasy within a fantasy in Morning’s
Tree-lined Street (36). In As a Wife, as
a Woman and Floating Clouds (55)—another
Hayashi adaptation and probably the best known of
the director’s 89 films—the Narusean
flashback is a sudden opening up of unexpected passageways
and escape routes in time. Past and present are continuous
in Naruse. In Floating Clouds, a kiss begun
in flashback is completed in the present. In As
a Wife, as a Woman, two children run out of
a room in flashback, then, in response to the call
of their supposed mother, return (after a straight
cut) through the same doorway, years later. In Stranger
within a Woman (66), which shares the same basic
story with Chabrol’s Just Before Nightfall,
the hero relives his obsessive relationship with
his slain mistress through quick straight-cut flashbacks.
In Floating
Clouds, the heroine observes wryly to her
lover during one of their many walks together (which
Naruse contrives to present as one infinite walk): “We’re
not getting anywhere, are we?” Over the many
years spanned by the film’s narrative, various
obstacles, including several Other Women, always
keep the heroine from pairing off with her chosen
man, the married seducer whom she follows on a
downward spiral of misadventures to sickness and
death. The condition of their relationship is its
instability. Throughout Naruse’s career he
remained faithful to the theme of the impossible
relationship. In Okuni and Gohei (52),
the netting around the noble Okuni’s sickbed,
dividing her from her devoted servant, is the visual
reminder of the ban on the love that develops between
them as they travel together. The singer-hero of Tsuruhachi
and Tsurujiro (38), willfully and in apparent
consciousness of what he is doing, ruins the relationship
on which both his personal happiness and his professional
success depend, opting for solitude and failure.
Some
Narusean relationships are impossible because of
the punishing role of the ideal in his characters’ lives.
In Wife (53), based on a Hayashi novel,
a widow sacrifices her potential happiness with her
married lover because she recognizes the superiority
of the claims of the man’s wife. Fulfilling
her preordained role as the hero’s feminine
ideal, the widow finally makes herself unattainable.
The heroines of Yearning (64) and Scattered
Clouds follow her in this choice, convinced
that fate has cast them in roles that bar them from
happiness. In When a Woman Ascends the Stairs,
Naruse again describes the predicament of a woman
who’s believed to be too good for the world:
most of the characters idealize the heroine, in part
because of the legend that she placed a letter and
a photograph with her husband’s ashes, symbolically
burying herself with him.
The
role of the widow in Naruse’s cinema might
be described as highlighting the fact that in Naruse’s
world, the man is necessarily dead, that is, unable
to fulfill the ideal of masculinity. If the man happens
to be biologically living, the woman’s role
becomes that of protecting him from becoming aware
that his life is a failure, that he is already dead.
The characters played by Kinuyo Tanaka in Ginza
Cosmetics (51) and Mother fulfill this
function, as do the hero’s second wife in Wife,
Be Like a Rose, wives of failed writers in The
Actress and the Poet (35) and Anzukko (58),
and Fumiko with her tubercular husband in A Wanderer’s
Notebook. The heroine’s brother in Lightning,
a wounded war veteran, is a frail zombie, still bearing
in his body the bullets that could at any moment
actualize a death that he has merely delayed (when
his brother-in-law gets into a fight with the baker
who has cuckolded him, the brother shrinks away in
terror). Only his mother’s pampering sustains
for him the illusion of a kind of dreamlike existence,
a perpetual childhood.
In A
Woman’s Sorrows (37), one of the best
of several excellent films Naruse made during his
career’s supposed 16-year slump between Wife,
Be Like a Rose and Repast, Naruse’s
art is one of portraying conflicts that, for almost
the whole of the film, have not yet erupted
and become irreversible, of showing the small discouragements
and unpleasantnesses of family life. There are
no villains: if the heroine, Hiroko, becomes exploited
by her husband’s rich family, her condition
appears as the almost inevitable result
of her fidelity to an outmoded way of life. (Throughout
this film, the heroine is in constant motion in
response to the successive demands of the other
members of the household. It’s the opposite
of Naruse’s The Whole Family Works [39]:
here, nobody in the whole family works except the
heeroine.) The Sound of the Mountain (54)
is also about a loyal wife who sticks with an impossible
situation until its impossibility becomes too obvious
to all concerned. Setsuko Hara, best known in the
West for her roles in Ozu’s films, plays
both this woman and the central character of Daughters,
Wives, and a Mother (60), who also makes personal
sacrifices to live up to an unwritten code of How
People Should Behave, a code that’s calmly
violated and ignored by all the relatives who exploit
her. But the opposite course, putting personal
desires above family expectations, doesn’t
lead to happiness either, as the heroine of Summer
Clouds finds when she makes her single, doomed
bid to escape her condition as a war widow in a
rural land-owning family by having an affair with
a married journalist from Tokyo.