Blu-ray Review: MERRY CHRISTMAS, MR. LAWRENCE
David Bowie, Tom Conti and Takeshi Kitano star in Nagisa Oshima's WWII drama about repression, regret and honour in a Japanese prisoner of war camp
Following on from last week's loving Blu-ray/DVD "double play" releases of Empire of Passion and In the Realm of the Senses, Studio Canal have brought another of Nagisa Oshima's films to the format in the shape of 1983 prisoner of war drama Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence. Set in Japanese-controlled Java in 1942 and based on a series of semi-autobiographical novels written by Sir Laurens Jan van der Post, the film stars Tom Conti as the Mr. Lawrence of the title - an English officer fluent in Japanese and respectful (if often critical) of the culture - who attempts to mediate between the Japanese camp commanders and his own brash and reckless superior officer (Jack Thompson) in an strained effort to keep everybody alive. Japanese rock star Ryuichi Sakamoto (also the film's composer) gives a stand-out performance as the restrained Capt. Yanoi, the man responsible for the camp, whilst celebrated filmmaker Takeshi Kitano (future director of Violent Cop and Hana-bi, then a comedian little-known outside of Japan) is his more reactionary right-hand man Sgt. Hara. However, the film is perhaps best known for featuring pop legend David Bowie in a central role as the enigmatic Maj. Jack Celliers. As one long, slow zoom implies, Yanoi is captivated by Celliers the first time he sees him, whilst presiding over a military trial that will decide if he is to be executed or sent to the camp. Though it's less explicit here, the theme of sexual repression manifested through violence carries over from Oshima's two preceding films when it is implied that Yanoi has been a nightly visitor of Celliers secluded cell - a fact we learn as one of his lieutenants tries to murder the captured soldier, accusing him of trying to seduce the commander. The only on-screen evidence of their intimacy comes in the form of a chaste kiss on the cheek given to Yanoi by Calliers, with the Japanese officer later shown obtaining a lock of his almost supernaturally blonde hair as a keepsake. The earlier execution (via enforced ritual suicide) of a camp guard for having a sexual liaison with a Dutch prisoner foreshadows not only this relationship but the great social shame it must represent to Yanoi. The presence of Bowie - then arguably the biggest name in music - ensured that Mr. Lawrence would be Oshima's most seen film internationally, attaining a visibility never achieved by his politically charged 1960s work (Night and Fog in Japan, Death By Hanging) or even his controversial erotic thrillers of the late-70s. And yet Oshima's film is still in many ways every bit as oblique, daring and theme rich as anything else he made. One of few Japanese prison of war stories directed by a Japanese filmmaker, the film sidesteps genre clichés and depicts the camp guards with much more humanity. It's not that Oshima acts as an apologist for the famed cruelty of the Japanese prison camps of WWII, but that he contextualises the most brutal acts (for instance, the harsh physical treatment of the wounded) within the culture as expressions of a code of honour. It is always clear that Takeshi's Hara is an honourable man in this context, even if - as a fierce critic of the old guard - Oshima is himself locked in a perpetual battle with these militaristic elements of Japanese culture. This can be seen in the two depictions of hara-kiri shown in the film, in which he plays up the senselessness and savagery of the act rather than its imagined nobility: the victims are socially obliged to perform the act and do so with great trepidation rather than poetic stoicism. Though not a bad actor by any measure, Bowie is at his most effective when silent, with his striking physical presence making him seem like an alien or Christ-like figure. Less successful are his dramatic moments, but perhaps that's only in contrast with Conti who is miraculous as the humanist Lawrence. Whether delivering a monologue, shouting at his captors (in apparently perfect Japanese) or gently laughing to himself, Conti is an engaging performer: an actor with great intelligence capable of imbuing the smallest moments with tear-inducing pathos. It is his struggle with Hara and their cross-cultural exchanges that make the film so utterly compelling.