I'm doing my best to resist the urge to declare Masaki Kobayashi's The Human Condition one of the greatest films I've ever seen. The fact that it's actually a film trilogy makes it easier to rationalize not saying that, but I'd be hard-pressed to not admit it's among the most fulfilling and richly-textured cinematic experiences I've had. The chance of a repertory film program or festival showing it theatrically is slim to none, so I'm exceedingly grateful to The Criterion Collection for cleaning up all 574 minutes of it.
Kobayashi's masterwork has never been available on home video in the US. I had only ever read about it in books and articles online, and it very much exceeded my expectations. In a perfect world, the original Alamo Drafthouse would schedule a 10-hour screening of a restored print and coordinated feast, with the richest dishes coming during the scenes of suffering and starvation in the second and third films.
The three films begin during WWII and continue following their main character after Japan's fall in 1945. The Human Condition follows Kaji, an idealistic young man in his 20's who goes from being supervisor of a labor camp to an unwilling soldier to a POW in a work camp himself. Kaji ascribes to socialist views in contrast with the authoritarian fascist Japanese government of the time. In execution, the story told is more an indictment of radical views of any sort, whether far left or right in a given context.
One of the many lines of dialogue that...
...sound oddly familiar five decades after the movie was released.
Playing Kaji in The Human Condition was actor Tatsuya Nakadai's breakthrough role, which would propel him on to a still-going-strong career in Japan. He acted in Yojimbo for Akira Kurosawa during a filming break on Human Condition and would become Kurosawa's "new Mifune" after their famous falling-out. Echoes of Kaji resonate in Nakadai's stirring and powerful performance in Kagemusha.
The Human Condition is comprised of three films that are each comprised of two volumes of the novel. In their original release, the film installments were titled No Greater Love (Early 1959), The Road to Eternity (Late 1959), and A Soldier's Prayer (1961). Criterion's wonderful four-DVD set released this Tuesday includes each film on its own disc, with roughly an hour of interviews and original trailers on a fourth.
Volume 1: No Greater Love [3:26:00]
Kaji comes off brash and strident in the opening scenes of Volume I. He's not entirely sympathetic for the audience due to his harsh treatment of his girlfriend Michiko. He's reluctant to marry her or sleep with her. Michiko practically begs him into her bed, and he still refuses. His reasoning is that he stands the chance of being called up for military service at any moment, but I got the sense he was really petrified by the realities of a fully committed relationship.
He embodies how people feel about romantic relationships. We want them to stay perpetually in that "new" stage, where everything feels fresh. The sex is amazing, and everything feels wholly unfettered. That paradise changes and evolves due to the fact time is a progressive concept, not a static one. Kaji would love for everything to just stay where it is and not change. The thing that changes his direction is that he's offered a military service exemption to take a job supervising a work camp in China. He marries Michiko and heads off for Manchuria.
This shot is from what I'll forever refer to as The Zombie Sequence, where POWs tumble out of boxcars and then descend upon a food cart fighting and crawling.
The first film in the series sees Kaji challenged both by his ideals and his opponents. He's defeated at nearly every turn thanks to the machine surrounding him turning right every time he goes left. More than anything, No Greater Love is about the best of intentions and ideas being helpless against an overwhelming tide. Knowledge of his leanings and a major, intentional misperception at the film's climax leads to Kaji's military exemption being revoked.
The most (and only) bothersome part of the film for me was Nakadai's propensity for reacting by bugging his eyes out as if he'd been punched in the gut every time he was surprised or saddened by something. After seeing the following installments, I got over this by telling myself that he was playing Kaji as a very sheltered, naive kid who was 25 on the outside and around 13 on the inside. The experiences he has in the first film rapidly matured him much to his personal detriment.
Volume 2: The Road to Eternity [2:58:00]
We rejoin Kaji in the barracks during his basic training, where he is surrounded by a cross-section of the Japanese male of the time. Many are unhappy to be fighting in the war at all, but make the most of where they're stuck. Others are fiercely patriotic and blindly loyal. The majority of the film is spent watching the men grow (with some stagnating) as they approach the test of their immortality: their first battle on the front lines.
The trilogy's only true "battle" sequence is this film's climax, and it only lasts around 20 minutes. The time spent developing the characters in Volume 2 is extremely well-spent. The hook into the next film leaves us inside a scene rather than at the end of one.
Volume 3: A Soldier's Prayer [3:10:00]
The final chapter in the story is also the darkest in tone. During the course of it, Japan loses the Pacific War, and Kaji goes from calling himself a monster in the previous film to an animal here. The inference being that he had a sense of control over his own life up until this point. The picture is awash in deep black tones and more avant garde shooting techniques, resulting in a very arresting last leg of the journey.
The back cover gives away the fact Kaji becomes a Soviet POW, so I don't consider mentioning that here a spoiler. Nor do I consider it a spoiler to add that he does not become a POW until some ways into the film. Many of the situations call back to the portions of No Greater Love and The Road to Eternity that earned their considerable length once he is placed in a forced labor camp. A Soldier's Prayer delivers some most satisfying resolution in more cases and characters than one. There's one encounter in particular that left me laughing with delight. Anyone who watches the film will know what I refer to here when they see it. The movie ends poetically and gently, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Supplements
The fourth disc of the set is comprised of just the right quantity of extra material. I, for one, am relieved there was no film scholar interested in recording a 570-minute commentary. That isn't to say I wouldn't love to spend a few months studying the years of production on the film, but I don't think I'd be done reviewing this by next month if there were.
1993 Interview for Dir. Guild of Japan w/ director Masaki Kobayashi conducted by Masahiro Shinoda (Double Suicide) [13:43]
This is a thoughtful, friendly back and forth about the making of the film and the elements of the story that touched Kobayashi's personal experiences during the war. Kobayashi couldn't help compulsively fiddling with his smoking paraphernalia. They make an unexpected crack about Yasujiro Ozu living with his mother that made me chuckle. If you don't know anything about Ozu, you probably won't get it, but that's fine by me. Watch some of the Criterion discs of his work as penance and we'll call it square.
2009 Interview w/ star Tatsuya Nakadai [17:40]
Of the three interviews, this is the one I will probably rewatch the most now that I'm newly fascinated by the rest of Nakadai's filmography. It's actually difficult for me to see Kaji in the sage lines of his face at this point.
2009 Interview w/ fellow director & Kobayashi devotee Masahiro Shinoda reflecting on the film [24:40]
The longest interview piece is also the most information-rich. Shinoda knows so much about Kobayashi and his films that I'd love to see him produce a feature documentary about the man's life and work.
Human Condition I: No Greater Love trailer [4:34]
Human Condition II: The Road to Eternity trailer [2:41]
Human Condition III: A Soldier's Prayer trailer [2:55]
I won't point out precisely where, but there are five short video anecdotes hidden in the menus of disc 4. They're very worthwhile bits that were trimmed from the Takadai and Shinoda interviews. They vary in length and subject, totaling around 8 minutes in all.
This is a title I recommend owning and not waiting for Netflix to send you all four discs of in the correct order. I know a couple of budding filmmakers that I want to gift this set to because it'll be better for them than their first semesters of film school. In the event Criterion produces a Blu-ray down the road, I'd gladly fork over $25 for new high-def discs.
At the moment, the Criterion Store has the lowest price on the set pre-tax at $63.96, and Amazon is offering it for $79.95. If you enjoyed reading this review and Amazon finds a way to beat Criterion's price down the road, a portion of your purchase from that link will support the continuance of this column.