Mishima: A Life in Four ChaptersWhen I first took it upon myself to start this writing project, Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters was the impetus behind that endeavor. I was drawn to the beauty and artistry of Paul Schrader's masterpiece, which chronicles the life (and selected works) of author/actor/activist, Yukio Mishima, portrayed in the film by Ken Ogata. Set focally on the last day of his life, Mishima grants the audience insight into the enigmatic man through a series of flashbacks and cuts to thematically significant works, weaving a multifaceted portrayal of the artist, free of judgment, as the mind and soul of a man seeking to harmonize the pen and the sword is laid bare before us.
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Much has been said about Yukio Mishima, and this film that shares his name by Paul Schrader is a compelling biopic, expounding on how he struggled with the contradictions in his life, within his body and soul. Smothered by his grandmother as a child, he turned to literature as a means of crafting his reality. He describes himself in retrospect as a child viewing the world through a window--a world he felt he could never change. According to the film, Mishima was a man transformed by his drive, his determination to mold himself into a manifestation of beauty and art, just as he had crafted his own literary career. And this would prove to be a consuming obsession, which would empower him with the strength of will to at least make the attempt he had sought for most of his life, to change the world. Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters is structured in an intricate matrix of narratives, woven together in a tapestry that differentiates yet combines Mishima's past, his present, and adaptations of his selected works, which feature events that parallel his own life, a mirror into his own psyche. By virtue of the first selected novel, "The Temple of the Golden Pavilion", Mishima posits that the great contradiction for him has been the consolidation of words and action, deftly represented in the form of the main character, Mizoguchi (Yasosuke Bando), whose stutter and anxiety is exacerbated by the presence of the awe-inspiring Golden Pavilion. Mizoguchi waxes philosophical with his knavish fellow acolyte about the nature of beauty and knowledge, and Mizoguchi asserts that beauty is an overwhelming force and a poisonous one. This complex perspective of beauty is further explored in Mishima's own somewhat ambiguous and implied homosexuality, a subject which remained unpopular with the late author's estate. Like Mizoguchi, Mishima concluded that words could change the world, but that the world has nothing to do with words, and the two are at odds with the action inherent in life and beauty. Balancing these two themes, which appear diametrically opposed to each other, was at the crux of Mishima's inner struggle, alongside themes like the merging of "art" and "action", the harmony of pen and sword. Mishima's obsession with beauty--and perhaps his own shame at having falsified his own physical well-being to avoid being sent to war--may have fueled his narcissism, a sentiment explored in "Kyoko's House", another selection by the author. As Mishima's fame skyrocketed as an award-winning novelist, he remained insatiable for more. It is not enough to be celebrated, he must be adored, and seeks to achieve this by reinventing himself, similar to his character in this adaptation, Osamu (Kenji Sawada), who dresses like James Dean and who segues from the role of an actor to that of a bodybuilder to find himself. This transformation mirrors Mishima's own journey of self-discovery, as he pursues the paradox of self-destruction by self-actualization--making art by making oneself art. Transformation has always been at the epicenter of Mishima's odyssey through life--his dedication to sit at his desk every midnight is no different than his days of rigorous physical metamorphosis. Mishima's attitude is that it is not enough that he is merely a "seer" of the world as a novelist, but that he is the "seen", and moves into the public eye. So successful is Mishima in his endeavor, that his persona becomes famous not merely as a novelist and movie star, but as a conservative public supporter of the emperor. He recalls an instance where he was invited to debate with occupiers of the radical left at a university, a moment he recalls represented the combination of "art and action". His recollection about the event would show as similar to the final selection represented in Mishima: "Runaway Horses", where a young student and kendo champion named Isao (Toshiyuki Nagashima) conspires to topple the encroachment of capitalism in his "pure" Japan by assassinating the economic leaders he and his allies consider responsible. Mishima writes as he has for twenty years, but describes his work as a "rehearsal", a staged drama for what will eventually come to pass.
For such a celebrated writer, Mishima's end left Japan aghast. On November 25th, 1970, in an event known simply as "The Mishima Incident", the author and a few members of his symbolic "Shield Society" attempted to instigate a coup d'etat of sorts by taking a general hostage and demanding the assembly of the garrison, so that Mishima might implore what he regarded as the "soul of Japan" to rise up and restore its honor. To understand how wild and shocking a national incident this was, consider if Stephen King took Congress hostage, and tried to reenact the Articles of Confederation. As a result of this--and the subsequent conclusion--Yukio Mishima became something of a taboo subject for Japan (and remains one to this day). What was Mishima's ultimate objective in seizing the garrison? Did he really believe that he could convince the armed forces to return to conservatism by virtue of his earnest pleas or his eloquence? Mishima and his retinue fully expect that the mission will result in death, and he carries himself with the stalwart confidence of one who is in command of his own fate, arising from his bed with the profound understanding that today is the day he will die. Mishima was scandalous during its inception, still banned in Japan, but remains an important piece of history and a gorgeous work of art. Paul Schrader is no stranger to portraying characters at odds with society--consider his screenwriting chops with films like Taxi Driver; Schrader co-wrote the screenplay alongside his brother Leonard Schrader and sister-in-law Chieko Schrader. Graphic designer-turned-production designer Eiko Ishioka is the visionary behind the luscious and bold set pieces, that provide startling contrast between the fiction and the reality of Mishima. The theatrical set design of the adaptations of Mishima's selected works are full of vibrant color and a stage-like sensibility, from the Golden Pavilion itself, to the rotating noodle shop in "Kyoko's House", and even the lieutenant's stark, white office in "Runaway Horses". This reality is one that has been transformed by beauty and art, even if Mishima's attempts to bend the real world to his will did not prove successful. Ken Ogata gives a startling portrayal of Yukio Mishima with a rare combination of sensitivity and masculinity, seriousness one moment, a beguiling charm the next--he is positively magnetic as the titular character. And Philip Glass' score is one of the most magnificent musical scores ever put to film; his music evokes a sense of majesty and mystery, with divine bells and roaring strings--his music defines the rising sun. What I find fascinating about Mishima is that the selections chosen by Schrader are adaptations themselves of the original literary work, with periodic liberties taken with the plots, just as this film is an adaptation of the life of the man who chose "Yukio Mishima" as his pen name; his real name was Kimitake Hiraoka. As a biographical adaptation is the based on subjective interpretation, it is the result of a legacy left behind by one who stands out among the crowd, one who has left his mark upon the world, changing it even if in this discrete way, as Mishima has. Like his characters, in the end he crafted a scenario where he thrusts himself into the spotlight of history.
Recommended for: Fans of modern literature and contemporary history from Japan, as well as film-goers who enjoy biopics, and those who can appreciate the poetry of lofty themes like "beauty" and "art".
For such a celebrated writer, Mishima's end left Japan aghast. On November 25th, 1970, in an event known simply as "The Mishima Incident", the author and a few members of his symbolic "Shield Society" attempted to instigate a coup d'etat of sorts by taking a general hostage and demanding the assembly of the garrison, so that Mishima might implore what he regarded as the "soul of Japan" to rise up and restore its honor. To understand how wild and shocking a national incident this was, consider if Stephen King took Congress hostage, and tried to reenact the Articles of Confederation. As a result of this--and the subsequent conclusion--Yukio Mishima became something of a taboo subject for Japan (and remains one to this day). What was Mishima's ultimate objective in seizing the garrison? Did he really believe that he could convince the armed forces to return to conservatism by virtue of his earnest pleas or his eloquence? Mishima and his retinue fully expect that the mission will result in death, and he carries himself with the stalwart confidence of one who is in command of his own fate, arising from his bed with the profound understanding that today is the day he will die. Mishima was scandalous during its inception, still banned in Japan, but remains an important piece of history and a gorgeous work of art. Paul Schrader is no stranger to portraying characters at odds with society--consider his screenwriting chops with films like Taxi Driver; Schrader co-wrote the screenplay alongside his brother Leonard Schrader and sister-in-law Chieko Schrader. Graphic designer-turned-production designer Eiko Ishioka is the visionary behind the luscious and bold set pieces, that provide startling contrast between the fiction and the reality of Mishima. The theatrical set design of the adaptations of Mishima's selected works are full of vibrant color and a stage-like sensibility, from the Golden Pavilion itself, to the rotating noodle shop in "Kyoko's House", and even the lieutenant's stark, white office in "Runaway Horses". This reality is one that has been transformed by beauty and art, even if Mishima's attempts to bend the real world to his will did not prove successful. Ken Ogata gives a startling portrayal of Yukio Mishima with a rare combination of sensitivity and masculinity, seriousness one moment, a beguiling charm the next--he is positively magnetic as the titular character. And Philip Glass' score is one of the most magnificent musical scores ever put to film; his music evokes a sense of majesty and mystery, with divine bells and roaring strings--his music defines the rising sun. What I find fascinating about Mishima is that the selections chosen by Schrader are adaptations themselves of the original literary work, with periodic liberties taken with the plots, just as this film is an adaptation of the life of the man who chose "Yukio Mishima" as his pen name; his real name was Kimitake Hiraoka. As a biographical adaptation is the based on subjective interpretation, it is the result of a legacy left behind by one who stands out among the crowd, one who has left his mark upon the world, changing it even if in this discrete way, as Mishima has. Like his characters, in the end he crafted a scenario where he thrusts himself into the spotlight of history.
Recommended for: Fans of modern literature and contemporary history from Japan, as well as film-goers who enjoy biopics, and those who can appreciate the poetry of lofty themes like "beauty" and "art".