The Wasteland Reviewer

The Wasteland Review Request: Kwaidan (1964)

What is your experience with Japanese cinema? There are plenty of genres and filmmakers that have become synonymous with the Japanese film industry. Many people’s first dabbling into Japanese cinema certainly is anime, a grand interpretation of animation. Anime is certainly not a monolith either. You also have samurai films which are such a unique and distinct Japanese style of storytelling. But again, samurai films are also not a monolith. There are action films, dramas, mysteries, and even horror films. You also have a few distinct filmmaking visions with legendary filmmakers like Akira Kurosawa and Hayao Miyazaki. But there is one filmmaker who has made not just some of the greatest samurai films of all time but some of the most important in Japanese cinematic history, Masaki Kobayashi. One of his crowning achievements of his incredible career was Kwaidan.

How did Kobayashi approach such a unique and daring project? First off, this is a medieval Japanese era horror film. Kurosawa dabbled in similar places with the likes of Throne of Blood but Kobayashi dove headlong into this folk horror anthology filled with ghosts and spirits deeply rooted in Japanese culture. There are plenty of essential elements in Kwaidan that make Kobayashi’s vision come to life. For all the ghoulish and ghostly entities, the crew leverages impressive make-up and hairstyling to make it all feel so impactful. The costumes are breathtaking as Kobayashi found the right designers to bring all these ancient period dressings to life. One of the most powerful elements of the film is the production design. There are plenty of period accurate buildings throughout the film but there are also mind-blowing settings that completely reinforce the narrative needs (from dilapidated homes to otherworldly shrines to impressive naval crafts). Composer Toru Takemitsu delivers an epic score that captures all different types of ancient Japanese music deeply rooted in the culture (which reinforces the mythology that is brought to life on screen). There you have the striking visuals of the film which are expertly captured by cinematographer Yoshio Miyajima. The way that color leaps off the screen is so striking and powerful. Whether it is engrossing colorful lighting, elaborate matte paintings of the landscape, or the eye-popping costumes, Miyajima shows off the immaculate work of the whole crew. The handle on tension and terror that Kobayashi has certainly set the bar for Asian horror for decades to come.

How does the cast shape up in bringing this grade experience to life? Rentaro Mikuni is the lead in the first story, “The Black Hair”, as he delivers a performance that goes from confident to regretful to terrified. This rollercoaster is essential to the arc that Mikuni’s swordsman must go on. But it is Michiyo Aratama that builds such powerful sympathy that the audience latches on to while allowing for that darkly twisted turn to gain impact. Tatsuya Nakadai (legend of Japanese cinema and the frequent collaborator of Kobayashi) is the lead in “The Woman of the Snow”. He delivers a performance that is easy to empathize with. But it is Keiko Kishi’s dual performance (including as the yuki-onna, a terrifying snow spirit) that will knock you back. Here ability to be both lovely and terribly haunting in the same film is quite impressive. “Hoichi the Earless” relies on the endearing performance of Katsuo Nakamura who is the young musically inclined protagonist. But it is Japanese cinematic legend Takashi Shimura who delivers the anchoring performance with his wise presence in the film. Kan’emon Nakamura is impressively entertaining as Kannai, the samurai who is driven to madness by spirits in water.

What makes these stories so powerful and impactful? Before diving into the depths of this quartet of tales, there are some pacing issues over the course of this three-hour epic. Mostly in the third tale, “Hoichi the Earless”, there is plenty of space to draw the story out. This is by far the longest of the four stories and it could have been much tighter. But overall, this is a quartet of excellent tales rooted in fables with clear yet impactful themes. Starting with “The Black Hair”, you have a story about a man who abandons his loving wife for a richer replacement. Despite having regrets and crawling back to his love, a dark and twisted fate waits for the swordsman (a terrifying and haunting end). With “The Woman of the Snow”, a tale of integrity and honor leads to a haunting and tragic end. The yuki-onna is a terrifying entity in Japanese culture and how that is leveraged for the story of Minokichi is quite impactful and poignant. “Hoichi the Earless” is filled to the brim with spirituality and faith while delivering quite the unique ghost tale. Sprawling, unexpected, and grand in production, “Hoichi the Earless” might be a tad too overlong and stretched out but still delivers an engaging tale of the titular singer. “In a Cup of Tea” is a much quicker and focused tale that is darkly funny and haunting with some exciting action to go along with it. This is a storyteller’s tale with its own ghostly twist as the protagonist Kannai is forced to contend with consequences of his own actions. These four tales might all be different in subject matter, but they all pack a poignant message while delivering some deep ghostly tales.

What makes Kwaidan such a classic tale that has stood the test of time? This epic Japanese horror film leans into ageless storytelling structure through a group of haunting fables. The messaging is clear, but the narratives deepen the impact with their twisted and terrifying. The cast is filled with a whole crew of committed performers (including some of the best to ever do it in Japan). The filmmaking is just unmatched with Kobayashi, and his incredibly talented crew bring each of these tales together with incredible mastery. Kwaidan is a towering achievement in both Japanese cinema and horror.

Special thanks to Luke Burian for nominating Kwaidan (1964)!