Heroic Purgatory (1970) User Reviews

Unusual, different and challenging

[fred3f · 8/10 · 27 April 2009]

From the very first frame, you know you are in for something different. The first thing that strikes you is the composition of the visuals. Each frame is an avant-garde work of art. If you turned off the sound and simply watched the visuals it would be worth the time.

The plot is complex and enigmatic. Intentionally ambiguous, it deals with love, truth, reality and the validity of political action. Although it is enigmatic, it is not boring. Instead it stimulates thought on these subject. The ambiguity of the plot means that there are no easy answers and viewers must make up their own minds on these weighty subjects. It also means that the film can be viewed several times.

This is an "art film". The director was a major figure in the Japanese new wave that started in the 60's and watching this film one is reminded of Alain Resnais, although this is not a copy of his style. The film is part of a trilogy of "sex and politics" films (Eros plus massacre; Heroic Purgatory ; Coup D'Etat).

You will not like this if you are looking for an entertaining film, or a film with action, sex, comedy, great one liners and all those other things that can make a film entertaining. There is nothing wrong with such films but this one one of them. It is a film that will make you think.

Finding a good copy of this or any of this director's other films can be difficult. This particular film can be found if you search the internet but it is usually found with very poor and incomprehensible subtitles. Recently someone has made a new subtitle translation but it is very hard to find. I wouldn't recommend the film without this new translation unless you are a Japanese speaker. Subtitles that begin "This morning I lift the floor There are 3 worms" should be avoided. Those that begin "This morning, there were three cockroaches," are good. But on the other hand just watching the visuals can be worth it.

Very difficult, pretty much impenetrable. But it is pretty.

[zetes · 6/10 · 27 May 2017]

I felt much the same way about this one as I felt about the previous, more famous Yoshida film I watched last week, Eros + Massacre: it's gorgeous but maddeningly esoteric. As a result of its difficulty, I found the film fairly boring. This one is perhaps even more difficult than Eros + Massacre, but it's also 90 minutes shorter, so I'd rate them pretty much even. The film involves Communist revolutionaries in Japan, who were more or less outlawed in the country by the U.S. The film spans several time periods, including the distant future of 1980 (you can tell it's the future because of the theremin music). The main action begins in 1952, which was a turbulent year for student protests. One might just watch it for the visuals - what Yoshida does with space is absolutely astounding at times. The filmmaking often brings to mind Antononi and Resnais. But it's hard to watch it just for the visuals when you know Yoshida is trying to get at something and is so deadly serious about it.

Pure Geometric Chaos!

[samxxxul · 7/10 · 24 May 2020]

Pure geometric chaos in Yoshida Yoshishige's "Heroic Purgatory", which is also the second film in his Trilogy of Japanese Radicalism, produced under the aegis of Japan's legendary Art Theater Guild. This is probably my fav film of his, especially in terms of visuals. Watching it feels like falling into a trance, I keep chasing the high of watching Heroic Purgatory, but no other Yoshida movie has come close.

Yoshida's strength is without a doubt his image composition, the way he frames his shots is so meticulously done. The story centers around an engineer and his wife (played by the great Hiroshi Inagaki regular Mariko Okada, who is also Yoshida's spouse and long term collaborator) who find a lost teenager leading the engineer to recall his younger days as a political radical. As this narrative plays out, Nanako's husband tells the story of his past when they met in a time when he was involved in reformist politics. Underneath, this film explores the past, present and future of the early 1970's political radicalism in a volatile Japan. As the film progresses, the temporal space is crushed mixing past, present, and future together. Abandoning linear storytelling for an ethereal trip into a labyrinth of memories, fears and delusions Yoshida gives viewers a stylistic feast injected into a revolutionary thriller. Cinematographer Motokichi Hasegawa and editor Hiroyuki Yasuoka, presents a visual language that recalls other great films (appropriate given Yoshida's background as a film critic...he also wrote a book on the films of Yasujiro Ozu) while continually exploring new ground; there's so many compositions, so many scenes that defy the conventional expectations of filmmaking...it's absolutely intoxicating to behold. Toshi Ichiyanagi's score is also a tremendous win, giving an atmospheric almost science fiction-like vibe to accentuate the stunning visuals.

New cinema

[chaos-rampant · 28 April 2011]

Yoshida's films are luminous, ethereal creations, languid love affairs blown into abstract shape by memory and time. In the period when he studied/essayed the great Antonioni, he gave us films of simple, perhaps ponderous beauty. But with Eros+Massacre he finally unraveled. This is a companion piece to that labyrinth.

I can't imagine what it must've been to see this back in 1970 with fresh eyes, what possibilities of cinema it may have opened. Thirty years later I can see that some of the things Yoshida foresaw panned out, others didn't. But this film is a maddening enigma that stands the test of that time passed, meaning it's not simply a cultural artifact of New Wave and the time when the revolutionary spirit was believed to be a force of change, but an entire evolutionary phase of cinema, New Wave before and after.

If the movie works then as more than bold experiment, it's because these particular ephemeral struggles are abstracted, the lifetime they in turn inspire and disappoint is fragmented, past and future spinning out of original frameworks. What we get from this rearrangement is a snapshot of human beings caught into disparate planes of existence, wishing to see or connect or recognize meaning in what they do.

In a brilliant scene that takes place in the 80's, one of many flash forwards into future or imaginary time, the cast of characters is assembled in an open space to hold court. Unable to properly remember a key event, they turn to a figure perched in a high chair holding a film camera to arbitrate. This surrogate filmmaker allows them back in time.

We see how the two lovers met, we see where that love brought them. We get here a beautiful realization, that the man's greatest aspiration, who is a famous scientist, is to be a good husband to his wife. The camera looks back at Mariko Okada, standing a little back from her husband being interviewed, and we see her gracefully, stoically looking out a window. Yoshida's gentle tribute to the love of his life, his wife in real life.

We see an entire life, shared by these two people, be trapped in moral dilemmas and modern anxieties, thought to be important at the time, lifechanging, with hindsight though nothing but trivial. We see them struggle to remember or forget. Yoshida gives us here a bitter last goodbye to the spirit of '68, showing us how the romance with the social struggle grew sour. These ideas having led nowhere, our only chance for happiness is with our other half that completes us. The one romance that matters.

The film is the final moments of consciousness, memory looking back upon itself.

...

[mevmijaumau · 10/10 · 30 December 2014]

This movie is truly something special. Actually, it's so special that I don't know what to write about. So much is discussed in this film and equally as much is there worth discussing about it, yet there's nothing I can say or write that will adequately describe this movie. No, you simply have to experience it.

Rengoku eroica, that is, Heroic Purgatory, is the second film in Yoshishige Yoshida's Trilogy of Radicalism, preceded by Eros + Massacre (1969) and followed by Coup d'etat (1973). Yoshida's work has always been on the avant-garde, artsy side, but Heroic Purgatory is so fantastically bizarre and unconventional that the rest of his opus seems perfectly normal in comparison.

Eros + Massacre was Yoshida's magnum opus, pretty much, the film that marked his career. After such a film, directors usually have three options as to what to do next; they either make something even more stylish and unchained, or they quit making movies overall, or they start making more normal films. Yoshida did all three; first he made Heroic Purgatory (a heapton crazier and more puzzling than Eros) and Coup d'etat (which explored Japanese politics more in-depth than Eros did), then he didn't make a movie for 13 years, then he returned with more level-headed pictures.

So what is this movie about? Good question. What I got out of it is that it's about an atomic engineer Rikiya Shoda and his wife Nanako (played by Yoshida's wife Mariko Okada). While Rikiya is doing some important laser business, his wife returns home with a lost teenager called Ayu. Then, out of the blue, some guy enters their household and calls himself Ayu's father, but Ayu claims that Rikiya and Nanako are her parents. Then, the plot goes completely apeshit. Through a series of eerie oniric sequences, incomplete flashbacks, imagined time and future time set in the '80s cross-paired with the scenes taking place in the '50s, we learn that Rikiya belonged to a revolutionary communist group who planned to murder an ambassador or something, and there was probably a spy among them. And there were also some kidnappings and assassinations involved, probably false. It's like if someone with schizophrenia were to write a movie script about Japanese revolutionaries.

The characters are not just characters, most of the time they appear whatever they want to be; you can never be too sure who's the mother, who's the father, who's the revolutionary, who's the politician, who's the spy, what's anyone's role in anything. The characters' motivation is completely unclear - for whatever reason they'll casually strip naked, or wear a silly hat or take off a wig, or hug a giant champagne bottle while hitting piano notes with their feet, or walk around with an umbrella with nothing else left to do.

This movie is really best described as an intentionally incomplete puzzle; you may try to follow the plot at first, but you'll get lost very fast. You can never pay attention to one thing at a time and even if you manage to comprehend a certain scene, another one will just frankly take a dump on your perception by being contradictory, not even to the max, but just a teeny bit contradictory, which makes the entire thing even more puzzling. For example, there's the scene where Ayu talks to Nanako that they should kill all fathers. Is this related to the young revolutionaries trying to kill the heads of state? Well, who knows, because later there's a similar scene where Ayu 's anti-family speeches to Nanako completely oppose of any theory you could come up with beforehand. Everything is so damn cryptic, intangible and metaphorical. I watched the film in fragments and I still have no clue what the hell I just witnessed. You have to take notes on repeated viewings, otherwise you'll never scratch the surface of understanding this monster of a film. What's worse, this isn't a stream of non- sequitur unrelated imagery, you can feel there's a plot but there's no way you'll comprehend it unless you have a degree in Japanese radicalism.

Of course, I have to mention the visuals. Dear God, this is some top- level visual artistry. I mean wow. You can't even say that these images could work as gallery paintings because they work so well in moving image format, interacting with various creepy sounds which break the unnerving silence of the movie and play around with the characters and nearby objects. A character walking around in darkness, while the garage slowly lifts from below and reveals a bright industrial landscape in the background, for example. The camera often tries to "escape" upwards (maybe to reflect the characters' longings of having a better life?) and confronts the calm, non-emotional protagonists with parallel shots of clinical, neo-industrial architecture whose emptiness is present even in the main couple's home.

Also, plenty of mirrors and repeated images. One shot even shows the wall reflection of Nanako's reflection in a mirror, while she looks at herself in her own hand mirror and talks about wanting to be someone else. Four reflections in one. How about the frame where Ayu and Nanako's figures are reflected on a table in front of a white background, making it look like they're in a huge film track?

Lastly, the atmosphere is flawless. Even though I couldn't relate to any of the characters or even comprehend the damn plot line, the movie always kept my attention with its mix of surreal imagery and chilling choral music. This is great cinema. For a movie that feels like it's from another planet, it sure doesn't disappoint in spellbinding you.

Japanese Radicalism, Part Two

[gavin6942 · 7/10 · 9 May 2017]

An engineer's wife returns home with a lost teenager. A man posing as her dad tries to get her back, causing the engineer to recall his youth as a revolutionary, obscured by dreamlike disruptions of time and space, fantasy and reality.

Although I did not care for "Eros" the way some people do, I actually liked this one a bit more. Yes, the picture is washed out and I wish it was not. But the clever angles and framing made me enjoy the film from the opening shots. It has a very science fiction feeling to it at times, and I wish it had more of that.

As part of the "radicalism trilogy", I would say this is my favorite of the three. I am not crazy about Yoshishige Yoshida, but this film at least struck a bit of a cord with me.

A Beautiful, Different Take On Seeing the World

[kurosawakira · 8/10 · 31 December 2015]

"Heroic Purgatory" (1970) was my first Yoshida, and I'll certainly try to see more than the three films released by Arrow in the "Love + Anarchism" set.

It's definitely avant-garde in the classic sense of the term, marching in the vanguard of utilizing fluid experimental dream language. I know I'll eventually revisit Godard and the French New Wave in the future, whose work at this writing I'd consider dull and uninteresting, but this is the exact opposite of dull: not only is it visually masterful, the story, no matter how evasive and at times elliptical like an afterthought, is actually interesting.

I definitely see, based on this one film, how Yoshida might have influenced Wong, or even Malick's "modern style" from "The Tree of Life" (2011) onwards. And if not, having seen this one really does add to the aforementioned directors' films.

I'm not sure whether the experience would lend itself for a repeat viewing anytime soon, since because of the elliptical nature of the film, despite the complete mastery of the visuals, and Yoshida is clearly a master at work, the film is purposefully obscure. But if one approaches it like a dream, it's a wonderful audiovisual journey through some very unusual ways to see the world.

It's fun to know really nothing at all about Yoshida, other than him starting out under Kinoshita's tutelage. It strongly resembles the Ozu-Imamura relationship, where the "old", strict formalism (or what would certainly seem as such by the new generation of filmmakers) in its part has influenced the radical swerves of the apprentices. I'd really like to know what he thought of Teshigahara.

"I will get rid of what I thought my God was"

[dmgrundy · 7/10 · 21 August 2020]

'Heroic Purgatory' has suffered most of from the obscurity into which Yoshida's trilogy of radicalism has been cast. At least an hour shorter than its predecessor, 'Eros Plus Massacre', it takes that film's tendency to narrative compression and ellipses to an extreme, and a first viewing may render elements virtually incomprehensible, as Yoshida's characteristically bleached-out, askew framing renders public, exterior space a bleached-out, ghostly horizon, glimpsed in the distance as if in perpetual mist or blinding sunlight, and domestic, and interior space an endless series of corridors or bedrooms, of secret spaces, in which characters endlessly circle the space and each other.

The film opens as Nanako (Mariko Okada) witnesses what appears to be the attempted suicide of a young woman, Ayu (Kazumi Tsutsui), who then follows her to the apartment she shares with her husband, engineer Rikiya (Kaizo Kamoda), the three becoming a kind of strange family unit of 'adopted' children, absent parents and power triangulations. (It's never made clear in Ayu in fact exists or is a kind of mutual projection of the childless couple). Ayu, who, at least initially, speaks only rarely, claims to be 'lost' and disowns the 'father' who comes to the couple's flat to claim her, and who may or may not be either a police spy, a member of the revolutionary cell in which Rikiya was formerly involved, or a genuine father who has lost both his wife and daughter. As the film unfolds, Rikiya recalls his past within that cell during the signing of the 1952 San Francisco treaty--a de facto ceding of colonial power to the occupying American forces, beyond the period of ostensible occupation--as a planned attempt to either kidnap or assassinate an ambassador collapses due to the possible intervention of a spy within the group. This moment is played out again and again, shifting in time and location from 1952 to 1960 (the signing of another treaty of compromise), 1970 (when the film was made) and 1980, ten years in the future: actors play multiple roles, as the original members of the 1952 cell appear to take up roles in 'official society' and their successors among the new waves of radical movements turn against them.

'Eros' memorably presented three alternate versions of the attempted murder that forms the film's climax. Here, virtually every incident appears to be replayed in numerous ways: most notably, the act of potential betrayal and the subsequent trial and possible execution of the supposed 'spy'. A puzzle film like 'Out 1' or 'Inland Empire', 'Heroic Purgatory' is nonetheless more a political than a philosophical reflection. The film ends at the train station at which much of the action has taken place, as Nanako and her 'daughter' board an empty train, only to exit once more and walk back along the platform in front of a sign which reads 'dead end'. They exchange brief dialogue. 'It's over. Nothing left'. 'There's still things to do.' 'Depart to a distant place?' 'I will get rid of what I thought my God was'. As the two women walk towards the camera (back to the city, back to society), the camera focuses on the 'Dead End' sign, previously only a blurred smudge of white in the background, before blurring it out once more. It's a perfect in-joke: the traditional signing off of a film, the boundary re-established between life and cinema, the mechanism of narrative closure that rounds off in a neat summary, with the English language signage reflecting the enforced dominance of American culture and its representational strategies. The Dead End would also seem to refer to the attempt to change society through underground political action, in which, for Yoshida, the same mistakes repeat: the hierarchy, repetition of trauma and, in particular, the patriarchal violence and sadism--which at once condemns sexuality as counter-revolutionary distraction and sublimate it into gendered cruelty. The inability to break a cycle of various kinds of repetition, even in the most radical, vanguard, progressive or advanced of movements--whether official technocracies or revolutionary organisations--is the film's purgatorial territory. It's perfectly possible to view the as presenting a jaded perspective of liberal cynicism. Yet such a view more easily, more comfortably, more cynically fits into narratives of power, defeat and resistance than the film itself offers. Struggles for power may repeat themselves, first as tragedy, then as farce: yet this also means that resistance never ends. Viewed half a century on, Yoshida's projections of the present into both past and future suggest that, for all the moments of suppression, the revolution will continue to be fought.

Artsy and experimental movie

[ebiros2 · 31 December 2011]

This is a movie that was made in the late '60s, early '70s period of Japan when Japan influenced by the Hippie culture was experimenting with their own brand of Avant Garde culture that was sometimes called "Angura". This is shortened Japanese pronunciation for "Underground". As the word suggests, these were experimental non-mainstream production that explored much about free sex, and anti establishment view of the world. Rengoku Eroica was made during the period of such social movement. The director of this movie, Yoshishige Yoshida (Sometimes pronounced Kijyu Yoshida) always had Avant Garde taste to his movies. He was one of the directors that were part of movement called Nuberu bagu ( from the French nouvelle vague) or Japanese New Wave. This can be seen in movie such as Amai Yoru No Hate (1961) starring Masahiko Tsugawa. So this movie was a perfect match for the director. The movie also stars his wife Mariko Okada as the mother of the young rebellious daughter.

The core story of this movie is bit like cheap science fiction. There's would be rocket scientist, guerrillas trying to kidnap an ambassador, wife, daughter that plays disjointed story segments that takes sudden detours in topics that keeps things away from from reality.

It was escapism that had intellectual pride at its core. Youth then were running away from responsibility, but were justifying it in many philosophical smoke and mirror. If you watch this movie, you can see this clearly, as you can't pin down who's responsible for what, and everything is just a play without any reality.

This type of movie rapidly lost favor with the public after the late '60s, and Yoshida himself had to move away from making movies to making TV documentaries. What a drastic swing from non-reality to pure reality. Other directors who were part of Japanese New Wave such as Nagisa Ooshima had to go to France to continue his movie making.

Experimental, and artsy, but the movie has no substance. It's interesting to watch, but don't expect to get anything deep from this movie.