Crossroads (1928) User Reviews

Director at crossroads.

[topitimo-829-270459 · 8/10 · 2 April 2020]

Kinugasa Teinosuke had started his directorial career in 1922, having first worked as an "onnagata", actor who specialized in female roles. After women were allowed to act on stage and in films - good decision by the way - Kinugasa moved behind the camera. Not much of his early works survive, but happily his two most famous silent pictures have done so. Kinugasa's first masterwork was the low-budget existential horror drama "Kurutta ippeji" (A Page of Madness, 1926). The film was critically acclaimed but not exactly a crowd-pleaser. Kinugasa followed it with "Jujiro" (Crossroads, 1928), a film that has a fitting English title. In his later years Kinugasa moved away from his early, experimental style to more traditional jidei-geki films. Though often good, they weren't as continuously exciting pieces of film-making, and one sometimes wishes that Kinugasa had remained this interesting an artist throughout his long career.

"Jujiro" tells a more traditional story than "Kurutta ippeji" but supports it with strong, nightmarish visuals. In this period film, Rikiya (Bando Junosuke) gets in a fight upon visiting a brother. He gets blind and believes that he has killed the other man. Rikiya gets a panic attack and escapes home to his sister Okiku (Chihaya Akiko). In order to save her brother who has committed a horrible crime, Okiku sacrifices herself and becomes a prostitute. This narrative is very typical for Japanese period films. What I liked best was that Kinugasa presents this scenario in a horrifying light. Or actually he presents it claustrophobic darkness. So many other directors, even good ones, treated narratives like this as pure melodrama. The audience is supposed to feel sad, but also acknowledge that this is how it sometimes goes. "Jujiro" is un-apologetically dark, a near-surreal trip into distant centuries.

The visuals and camera angles are constantly wonderful. Kinugasa manages to cram in so many wonderful shots, that the story-line is forced to take a secondary role in the viewing experience. And that's not a bad thing. Both lead actors were really good, with very expressive faces. As a movie, this is not as compact as "Kurutta ippeji", nor is it as experimental or historically important. But compare it to any other Japanese silent film from the 1920's, and it definitely appears as a visionary work by a talented director.

An entrancing impression of self-immolating sexual obsession

[oOgiandujaOo_and_Eddy_Merckx · 10/10 · 28 February 2009]

This incredible movie that I have just seen is the closest I imagine you can get to experiencing rapid eye movement whilst awake. To call it dreamlike would be to fall into cliché, it is simply a mad narcotic dream, think of the effect of a feature length Tscherkassky movie.

It's a silent Japanese impressionistic movie. I'll paint the impression rather than the plot, as is suitable. There's a brother and a sister living (or more aptly surviving) in a tenement, in a permanent nighttime. Their abode is in the shadow of the demi-monde Yoshiwara pleasure district, the streets are contracted and smothering, the air is scorched, light is fleeting. The brother has fallen into an obsession with a hostess, O-yume, a painted fetishised banshee who makes your hair stand on end when she comes on scream, constantly in epileptic laughter, the theatre screen threatening to unhinge. The sister is a paper ball on a huge wave, she has no control of events and cannot restrain her brother and his dangerous obsession (he tries to murder rivals).

The whirling unwholesome Yoshiwara district is an opium dream, morbid febrile lights struggle to illuminate seated archers, a spinning lottery wheel, wild-eyed drunkards and strumpets. The film is almost like an exhibition of paintings of the faces of demons. A samurai with a face burning with dread, hot to the touch, humiliates the brother. He has stolen an exquisite dress his seamstress sister had made to order for a client, he has cut the anchor in a storm, he has stolen a life raft, and presents it to the wildly teeming O-yume. The samurai takes it from him and rends it to pieces, like he's ripping the fabric of an enchanted dream, as if he's tearing a hymen. The brother suffers humiliation and a beating, we are subject to misted longueurs of his suffering, replete with wild outrageous edits and superimposed shots far ahead of their time cinematically speaking. The camera-work in Yoshiwara actually places you in with the crowd, you really feel you are there.

The film falls into three acts, the first watched by me with mouth agape, a helter-skelter masterpiece of oneiric impression. The second hypnotic, aching and slow in tempo. We end with a crescendo which combines stars and crossroads and clearly supernatural edits.

I can't believe what just happened to me watching this film, I'm stunned, I've actually no idea how long Jujiro went on. I watched it with live accompaniment from two musicians, The Birdman of Alkijazz and Matthew Bourne, who were duelling with experimental electronic music. It's important I mention the musical aspect because certain scenes are clearly extended by the director for the express purpose of allowing musicians to tease out the emotion. The music was a succès fou, enhancing and channelling the efforts of Kinugasa. This movie has the clear capability to not work if unaligned musicians are involved with the accompaniment. However I would watch it again with no accompaniment and be happy.

Absolutely astonishing cinema.

All Depends

[frankgaipa · 9/10 · 22 September 2002]

"Jujiro" is a silent film in more ways than one. The story of a young man whose delusions, first of love then of blindness, lead his supportive sister to dire sacrifice and peril, long stretches are literally silent, he or she alone on screen or silent with a landlord or some such, communicating with us only by gesture or choreography or simply by position within Kinugasa's expressionist sets. Though with a vivid imagination you could watch it with no sound at all, for most a lot will depend on the accompaniment. This year's SFIFF destroyed Kinugasa's other silent wonder "Page of Madness" by letting indie band Superchunk play behind it an electric, mostly electric guitar, score not even keyed to the screen action. Miya Masaoka and Ensemble, with koto, a mix of mostly traditional-sounding percussion, I think a sax, and just once, briefly, a voice, backing "Jujiro" at the PFA, came much closer to the mark.

Obsession

[Hitchcoc · 9/10 · 26 April 2021]

A young woman lives in squalor in the seediest part of the city. Her brother has fallen in love with a harlot and he is willing to do anything to get her. She has no interest in him and his obsession puts him in grave danger. He takes advantage of his sister who is kind and tries to understand what is going on. At one point he is blinded. She deals with the horrors as he slowly regains his eyesight. She can't pay her rent and is at the mercy of her landlord. She is making a dress to get some money. The brother takes it and gives it to that woman. A man tears it to pieces. This is an ugly, sad, naturalistic film.

Marvelous, gloomy psychological drama

[I_Ailurophile · 9/10 · 16 February 2022]

A paucity of descriptive intertitles, combined with mildly jumbled sequencing of the scenes and narrative, means that 'Jujiro' is perhaps not the easiest film to engage with off the bat. This is partly a reflection of being a silent production, but there's also no mistaking as we watch that there's a sense of artfulness to it all that means directness and clarity is eschewed in favor of aesthetic composition. What disorder that presents also pairs neatly with a sometimes phantasmagorical arrangement of shots and imagery - rich surroundings, laughing people, flashing close-ups - that overlays an air of psychological drama to the tableau as it unfolds, especially as the tale grows more dire. And with that - even if initially hard to parse, it becomes ever easier to be invested in the story, and admire all that the film has to offer. 'Jujiro' is distinctly bleak, but for anyone able and willing to abide the various demands of viewership, this is well worth seeking out.

When I mention the artistic touches to the picture, that most especially applies to the arrangement of each scene and shot, bolstered with robust editing. But the same careful attentiveness is seen in every aspect of the feature's craft, including hair and makeup, costume design, set design and decoration, lighting, and so on. Moreover, much great credit to everyone in the cast - including especially Akiko Chihaya, most prominent as the unnamed sister - for lively performances that vividly realize their characters. Every display of acting is a brilliant, gratifying demonstration of range, nuance, and physicality, making the figures in this sorry saga seem very desperately real. It is in no small part through the actors' sharp embodiment of the grim despair, heartbreak, cruelty, and otherwise strong emotions that the greatest impact of 'Jujiro' is felt, and it's a pleasure as a moviegoer to watch them practice their art.

Yet of course none of this would be possible without the remarkable intelligence of filmmaker Teinosuke Kinugasa to conjure the picture in the first place. In every regard - characters, dialogue (related through intertitles), scene writing, and the narrative at large - his screenplay is a searing, dynamic, engrossing examination of the dark depths where love can lead us without wisdom to temper our judgment. The brother's naive pursuit of a woman on the street leads to deep trouble, and the bond he shares with his sister means that she in turn falls in endeavoring to aid him. For the hardship endured by these primary sympathetic characters, and the depravity or indifference illustrated in others, 'Jujiro' in some ways comes across as more than a little nihilistic. And still, for all that, Kinugasa's skills as a director match his penmanship, and he exhibits a terrific keen eye and guiding hand as he oversees the production. This is a silent film that provides a feast for the eyes at the same time that the content nourishes our mind, and if difficult, the result is a satisfying, rewarding experience as a viewer.

For absolute lack of sound or music, and given how superficially disjointed the presentation may at first seem, I wouldn't say this is a title for audiences that already struggle with silent films. In every regard - writing, direction, acting, technical craft and rounding details - there is so much to take in with this picture, but it requires intent immersion to ensure we don't get left behind as the length progresses. Importantly, however: though arguably imperfect for the challenging construction that would repel some potential viewers, that quality also makes it all the more fruitful as the narrative advances. The themes, content, and fundamental orchestration mark this as a movie that won't be for everyone. In my opinion, however, 'Jujiro' is as worthy and accomplished as it is somber and disheartening - a finely made cinematic drama that deserves much more recognition. Wherever you're able to watch it, this is well worth 80 minutes of your time.