Sansho the BailiffOne of the most difficult obstacles when it comes to inequality is that it is difficult to sympathize with it when one is not directly affected by it. Sansho the Bailiff is a tale of a noble family in the Heian period of Japan--the equivalent of the Middle Ages--who are abducted by bandits, separated, and sold into slavery. As the two children, Zushiō (Yoshiaki Hanayagi) and Anju (Kyōko Kagawa), become young adults under the tyrannical dominion of Sansho (Eitarō Shindō), they are made aware that their mother, Tamaki (Kinuyo Tanaka), may still be alive, and they consider how to reunite with their parents.
|
|
Sansho the Bailiff covers a large stretch of Zushiō's life--from his mother's flashbacks to the time when her husband, Masauji Taira (Masao Shimizu), was stripped of his position as governor for disobeying an order to put down a riot of peasants with lethal force, to the end of his tale over sixteen years later. In his youth, his father entrusts a family heirloom to him of the goddess of mercy, but more than that, his principle that "all men are created equal". It is a proclamation which reverberates in the United States in the form of the Emancipation Proclamation, which began the process to declare slavery illegal; this mirrors the much older Zushiō's actions when he escapes Sansho's slave camp. The title card at the beginning of Sansho the Bailiff informs that the time depicted in this film was a dark age, where human life was not valued as it is today, evidenced by the way that the nobility of this Japanese era look down on the peasantry as subhuman, and the concept of equality is radical to say the least. What Masauji begins, however, Zushiō later fulfills in his life, because he has the benefit of experiencing the horrors of slavery first-hand--although he almost forgets it. When Zushiō and Anju arrive at Sansho's residence--a house he maintains for the Minister of the Right, and collects taxes for with ruthless reliability--they are cared for briefly by Sansho's own son, Taro (Akitake Kōno), who learns the secret of the two children, but cannot act on it. Instead, he leaves his father's house out of protest to become a Buddhist monk, moved by the plight of the children, and disgusted by his father's willingness to trample those beneath him to placate the ego of greedy bureaucrats for his own advancement. In this way, Taro's life direction has been altered--as it ultimately is for many others--because were Zushiō and his family not tricked by the faux-priestess and her nefarious slaving allies, he would not have gone on to make the unpopular proclamation as governor outlawing slavery, and would likely have drifted into obscurity like any other minor noble. But for Zushiō to reach this destination, like all achievements, there is a terrible sacrifice which must come with it.
Sansho the Bailiff is a morality tale; it is obvious by the portrayals of the savage cruelties inflicted upon those pressed into slavery--an immoral and even a hateful practice--but it is more important to see how this conclusion is reached by Zushiō. Although Zushiō hears the words of his father as a child, during his decade long incarceration at Sansho's, he becomes hardened, even going so far as to administer one of the vicious punishments Sansho demands to be inflicted upon runaways--a brand across the forehead--in this case to a seventy-year old man. The coldness which has overtaken Zushiō comes from the disillusionment at his father's proclamation of equality, for in his mind if all people were entitled to happiness and created equal, how could people like those who destroyed his family and sold them into slavery do what they did with any degree of conscience? Surely the slavers are cruel and opportunistic parasites, but after Zushiō has lost his sense of mercy, he becomes like the monsters who inflicted the same kind of horrors upon him, until he is awoken from this nightmare state of mind. Anju has held onto her heart, and tries to bring Zushiō back to his senses. She is finally able to do so when they are out in the mountains, tasked to abandon a dying woman per the bailiff's request, and they recall a moment from their childhood where they gathered thatch and branches to build a shelter for them and their mother before they were abducted. They even believe they hear the sound of their mother calling for them on the wind. It is here that Zushiō is reminded of his responsibility when Anju points out the opportunity to escape, which he takes into in order to accomplish the nigh-impossible task of reuniting with his mother and father. When Zushiō learns of his father's fate by the Chief Advisor to the Emperor, Morozane Fujiwara (Ken Mitsuda), he is gifted the position of governor and returns to Sansho to reclaim Anju and free the slaves in a triumphant return reminiscent of Heathcliff in "Wuthering Heights". Sansho the Bailiff is a harrowing tale, and while most scenes of torture or violence are performed off-screen, the shrieks of the victims and the implications of the assaults make the film truly horrifying at times. Tamaki is forced into service as a courtesan on the island of Sado, where her repeated escape attempts earn her a mutilated tendon--the mere thought of which is more than enough to make one cringe. The horror is compounded by the idea of it being inflicted upon the loving mother of these two children, already having suffered grave humiliation for years. The song which Anju hears from a newcomer at Sansho's includes her and her brother's names. It is like a call from across time and space to her heart, and reminds her of the hope and love of her family, a gift which proves essential for Zushiō at a critical time, but also includes the sorrowful refrain: "Isn't life a torture?" Sansho the Bailiff is a reminder that although life is fleeting and can be hard indeed, family and humanity are essential components to making it worth living.
Recommended for: Fans of a moving and meaningful contemplation about equality and freedom, relevant in any age, as well as the importance of the family bond. Director Kenji Mizoguchi's characteristic long shots invite the audience to fully absorb the gravity of scenes which underscore these themes.
Sansho the Bailiff is a morality tale; it is obvious by the portrayals of the savage cruelties inflicted upon those pressed into slavery--an immoral and even a hateful practice--but it is more important to see how this conclusion is reached by Zushiō. Although Zushiō hears the words of his father as a child, during his decade long incarceration at Sansho's, he becomes hardened, even going so far as to administer one of the vicious punishments Sansho demands to be inflicted upon runaways--a brand across the forehead--in this case to a seventy-year old man. The coldness which has overtaken Zushiō comes from the disillusionment at his father's proclamation of equality, for in his mind if all people were entitled to happiness and created equal, how could people like those who destroyed his family and sold them into slavery do what they did with any degree of conscience? Surely the slavers are cruel and opportunistic parasites, but after Zushiō has lost his sense of mercy, he becomes like the monsters who inflicted the same kind of horrors upon him, until he is awoken from this nightmare state of mind. Anju has held onto her heart, and tries to bring Zushiō back to his senses. She is finally able to do so when they are out in the mountains, tasked to abandon a dying woman per the bailiff's request, and they recall a moment from their childhood where they gathered thatch and branches to build a shelter for them and their mother before they were abducted. They even believe they hear the sound of their mother calling for them on the wind. It is here that Zushiō is reminded of his responsibility when Anju points out the opportunity to escape, which he takes into in order to accomplish the nigh-impossible task of reuniting with his mother and father. When Zushiō learns of his father's fate by the Chief Advisor to the Emperor, Morozane Fujiwara (Ken Mitsuda), he is gifted the position of governor and returns to Sansho to reclaim Anju and free the slaves in a triumphant return reminiscent of Heathcliff in "Wuthering Heights". Sansho the Bailiff is a harrowing tale, and while most scenes of torture or violence are performed off-screen, the shrieks of the victims and the implications of the assaults make the film truly horrifying at times. Tamaki is forced into service as a courtesan on the island of Sado, where her repeated escape attempts earn her a mutilated tendon--the mere thought of which is more than enough to make one cringe. The horror is compounded by the idea of it being inflicted upon the loving mother of these two children, already having suffered grave humiliation for years. The song which Anju hears from a newcomer at Sansho's includes her and her brother's names. It is like a call from across time and space to her heart, and reminds her of the hope and love of her family, a gift which proves essential for Zushiō at a critical time, but also includes the sorrowful refrain: "Isn't life a torture?" Sansho the Bailiff is a reminder that although life is fleeting and can be hard indeed, family and humanity are essential components to making it worth living.
Recommended for: Fans of a moving and meaningful contemplation about equality and freedom, relevant in any age, as well as the importance of the family bond. Director Kenji Mizoguchi's characteristic long shots invite the audience to fully absorb the gravity of scenes which underscore these themes.