More than just a chronological history of Japanese movie making, "A Hundred Years of Japanese Film" tells the tale of Japanese storytelling evolution, how the language of cinema evolved in Japan over the years and what the differences are, both overt and nuanced, between Western and Japanese film making traditions. The motion picture camera in the West was seen as an extension of photography, and thus naturalism was the implied goal. In Japan, the camera was thought of as an extension of theater. The first films were recorded versions of Kabuki plays, with men playing all the roles including the women, a tradition that carried on for a surprisingly long time in Japanese films. In this style, representationalism is considered more important than any attempt at "realism."
These roots can still be seen today, as many Western viewers are confused at the artificial nature of Japanese acting and film making. Richie explores this, as well as other uniquely Japanese film innovations such as the benshi, or silent film narrator, and how this affects modern films with their propensity for voice-over narrations explaining the plot.
But this is only the beginning. Richie takes us on a journey through the Japanese film, intermixed with the vast social upheavals of the Taisho period, the rise and fall of the WWII fervor, the post-war depression of spirit, and the constant battle between Western and Japanese influences on modern cinema, as well as the strange marriage between the two seen in film makers such as Kurosawa Akira, Kitano Takeshi and Miike Takeshi.
While there is an overview of almost every Japanese director, more time is spent exploring the visions of Mizoguchi Ken, Ozu Yasujiro, Kurosawa Akira, Itami Juzo ("Tampopo"), Oshima Nagisa ("In the Realm of the Senses") as well as other directors of note. Although there are not enough pages for a deep exploration, Richie shows how each of these milestone directors changed Japanese film in their own ways, and why they are important overall.
The single flaw in "A Hundred Years of Japanese Film" is that Richie seems to have a blind spot for Japanese animated films, and such powerhouse directors such as Miyazaki Hayao do not get the attention they deserve, but are instead lumped into a final chapter on animation. It seems that such directors should be considered in the overall chronology, rather than as a separate category, but this is not how they are portrayed.
But this is a minor complaint in what is an amazing book. For a text of this type, it is very easy to read and captivating. Richie's writing style keeps your interest over some of the most minor periods of film, and sparks your interest in some directors that you may never have heard of. In fact, the danger of "A Hundred Years of Japanese Film" lies in that soon you will find yourself on a desperate quest to hunt down and view some of the rare and tantalizing films described by Richie that fall out of the what may be at the local video store.
I have been a fan of Japanese films for many years, but until reading "A Hundred Years of Japanese Film" I cannot be said to have been an educated fan. The insights in this book have geometrically increased my appreciation of Japanese film, and revisiting old favorites is like seeing them with new eyes.
