Review of Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985) by Chris W — 15 Jun 2004

Wow.

First of all, let me say that George Lucas' name popping up over an emerging sunrise was not at all encouraging. That was the last of the George Lucas-ness, praise Allah.

As always, I'm willing to stick my neck out for ambitious films. The story is about Yukio Mishima, a famous Japanese author and potential nutcase (or maybe not), and his desire to restore the empire and purge capitalist evil (or some such thing) from Japan.

As far as I can tell, there are three main modes to the movie. There's the "present day" scenes shot in a rather unflattering manner, scenes from childhood, and highly stylized versions of his works, in something of a theater style. The childhood snippets are done in classic black and white, which is to be expected, I suppose, but they're fantastic all the same. The real highlights, though, are the theater portions. The closest thing I can think of to the theater portions are the sets from "Hero." Or, ah, the theater.

The "present day" sections are as close to an actual bio as [b]Mishima[/b] gets. The rest is drawn from Mishima's works and his encounters in childhood, and this is truly what sets this film apart from others, because it more than provides a well rounded background necessary to clarify his bizarre final act in life. Not like the "oh, he had a bad childhood, that's why he did it" type of thing. Instead, the film takes an extra focus on his belief system, and what it might look like, and draws from some very ingenious sources to support the cause. It's a very clever, and superior way to approach his story, and much much better than the usual procedure. What's important though, is that in all this fantastic cross-referencing, it stays rooted. I didn't have to go out of my way to follow what was going on, which was nice, as thinking hurts.

This is a team effort though, and one of the real gems is the score by Philip Glass. Also...I must admit that although he has a way with music, I've never been much into him beyond anything that would evoke a "hm" or two. That said, and even though the music screams out "hey, I'm Philip Glass, can you tell? I'm doing the do-de-lee do-de-lee do-de-lee do-de-lee thing that I always do," this is easily the best score he's done, or at least the film best suited to his music (from stuff I've seen, at least). It adds an invaluable layer to the film, and I dare say it wouldn't have succeeded without it. There are a few scenes, in fact, where I felt like it would have been a disaster without the music. In all honesty, I can't remember the last time I felt like the music was an absolute necessity, other than LiT.

What also relieved me was the notable lack of influence of the times. The music, the stories, and thank god, the fashion are all splendidly neutral with respect to when it took place and when it was made, and most importantly, trend and triteness. I felt like neon wanted so badly to burst out onto the screen at times, but thankfully neon knows better than to barge onto the set of every 80's movie and do a cannonball.

You know, I really have no idea what I'm talking about, but I've found that with films like this, when I actually focus and try to think about what I might say about it, surprising things pop out. I end up thinking about it a little different than I would have otherwise. If only I could do this with school, maybe I'd pass and shit.