Insect Woman Blu-ray Review
It's amazing to think that while Hollywood in the early sixties was dazzling us with sentimental sing-and-dance musicals, there were major films out in the world that explicitly tackles the most serious of social issues.
rating: 5
It's amazing to think that while Hollywood in the early sixties was dazzling us with sentimental sing-and-dance musicals, there were major films out in the world that explicitly tackles the most serious of social issues. Insect Woman looks at the life of working-class Japanese women in almost anthropological detail, and is one of the most brutally revealing films I've seen from this period in cinema. Insect Woman follows a 50-year period in the life of Tome Matsuki, a rural Japanese woman who struggles to survive in a Japan that's in constant flux due to global historical events, and plagued by socially-engrained misogyny. From the cramped conditions of her family home, to the chaos and corruption of life in Tokyo, Tome is never given the privilege of enjoying life, nor is she on a novel search for happiness or pleasure, but simply survival. Director Shohei Imamura captures this endless struggle in agonising detail. The film's title and opening scene, showing an insect stumbling across a rocky terrain, is fitting for a film in which the characters never cease to be working. For every basic need food, clothing, money Tome's family works ceaselessly, represented most poignantly by Tome's father, who chops wood, carries sacks and collects harvests for the film's 50-year span right up to his death. Even when there are characters interacting in the foreground, the background always contains someone working with ant-like mechanisation.
Workmanlike though Tome's father is, he is also symptomatic of the film's main theme; Japan's cultural mistreatment of women. His beating of his wife early in the film is a mild sign of things to come, as Tome's struggle towards eventual prosperity is essentially driven by male sexual desire. Imamura's unsentimental and naturalistic depiction of rape, adultery and prostitution is consistent throughout., and it's not long before we accept that these initially disturbing acts are simply currency for women to get by in this world. Insect Woman has a pessimistic rise-and-fall trajectory that at times can become difficult to watch. Even when Tome powers through a life of industrial work and prostitution to become a successful madam of a brothel, her success depends on the needs of men. Furthermore, Tome's increasing manipulation of and aggression towards people make her an increasingly unsympathetic character as the film goes on. But her reactions are a realistic response to a hostile world, and Imamura is clearly not interested in glossing this over as Tome privileges the welfare of herself and her family over trite moral concerns. Imamura's unobtrusive filmmaking style supplements these socially scathing themes. Low-angle static shots make the small rooms appear congested with the people populating them, with even the home failing to give a rest-bite from the chaos. This fly-on-the-wall style contrasts with intimate close-ups of Tome and other women who display a despondent resoluteness towards the life they're faced with. Despite these moments, Imamura maintains a psychological distance from the characters, emphasising this world as one of action, rather than of thoughts and words. Insect Woman spans 50 years in a sprawling 2-hour running time. As such, there are moments where the film moves at a pace that's hard to keep up with. Likewise, the overbearing sense of drudgery and ant-like work-to-survive feel of the film can get anaesthetising. Nevertheless, it eschews giving us a sentimental moral to the story in exchange for a fascinating insight into the life of working-class women in a major, but vastly different, society. 4/5 Extras
As to be expected from a 'Masters of Cinema' film, the disc isn't overloaded with garish content slapping you in the face. There is an interview with director Shohei Imamura, in which he talks about why he preferred that this film be more naturalistic and 'disorganised' than his usual style. The interview lasts only 20 minutes, and the interviewer's constant oh-ing and ahh-ing at every sentence Imamura utters gets irritating, but it's enlightening nevertheless. The big pleasant surprise in the extras is Imamura's 50-minute film, Nishi Ginza Station, which is a charming, comical counterweight to Insect Woman. It's the short story of a middle-aged man-in-crisis who has constant fantasies of running away from his domineering wife to an island and living with a local girl there. When his wife goes away, he goes on a boat ride with a local girl and, thanks to a typhoon, ends up on just such an island, where he comes into his own as a man. The film casually hops between fantasy, reality and sing-song, and certainly shows a more playful side to Imamura's filmmaking style. A great addition. Insect Woman is available now on Blu-ray.