This is a re-run with only the slightest of edits, so please don’t
ask me what the heck I was thinking when I wrote any given entry into this
section.
Original title: はやぶさ奉行
Edo period Japan. Kagemoto Toyama (Chiezo Kataoka), known to his friends as
Kinshiro, is the son of a well-respected magistrate. Father and son don’t see
eye to eye at all because Kinshiro has spent parts of his life mixing it up with
the lower classes and clearly not seeing anything wrong with that. In fact,
father and son don’t seem to have spoken to each other for a long time, and that
won’t change during the course of the film.
Still, when first a carpenter is murdered during a public swimming
performance, then a second carpenter is struck down right in front of Kinshiro’s
eyes, and finally a female acquaintance of his is murdered because she just
might have seen something during the first murder, Kinshiro takes it upon
himself to investigate. And wouldn’t you know it, his ability to speak eye to
eye with commoners and his willingness to relate to people based on their merit
instead of their class turns out to be quite the useful tool in an investigation
that – this being the sort of film it is – of course leads him on the trail of a
conspiracy to kill the shogun. Just as useful will be Kinshiro’s friendship with
wealth-redistributing thief Nezumi Kozo, his sword fighting skills, and his
ability to go undercover as a mildly eccentric, prostitute-charming
carpenter.
Falcon Magistrate’s hero Kagemoto Toyama is an actual historical
figure that must have enticed the popular imagination quite a bit, because the
historical magistrate (who was quite liberal for his time and class as far as I
understand, but certainly not as awesome as the fictional version) turned into a
fictional one popping up in all kinds of popular fiction, kabuki plays, TV shows
and a six or eight part (depending on which English language source you believe)
series of Toei movies starring the prestigious jidai geki specialist actor and
charisma bomb Chiezo Kataoka, of which this is the first one.
Toyama as folklore and pop culture sees him is quite the fascinating
expression of the dreams of a highly classist society. He’s a samurai who
respects the peasant class and even identifies with its members, who speaks
truth to power and has the power and influence himself to serve justice
particularly against the villains of his own class, all the while transgressing
class borders as if they were the social construct they actually are, a
character who is not just willing to team up with a thief like Nezumi but also
shows a degree of humorous appreciation for the man’s deeds, even though he’s
tutting at them. Nezumi for his part is a parallel case to Kagemoto, also based
on a historical figure that grew into something much bigger than the real man
probably was. In his own cycle, Nezumi Kozo (which is a nick name that
translates into Rat Boy or Young Rat, people who speak Japanese tell me) is
generally sticking it to the man, spurning those in power for their sins and
giving their money to the poor.
There is of course a bit of paternalistic noblesse oblige in the Toyama
character, though the film at hand doesn’t go very far into this part of the
character – too authentic are his interactions with the non-ruling class
characters, and he’s never making fun of them, as you’d otherwise see when this
approach goes wrong.These still are – however you look at it – quite subversive
heroes in their folkloric incarnations.
Toyama does keep quite a bit of this aura in this movie version directed by
Kinnosuke Fukada (about whose work I know basically nothing, alas), which might
come as a bit of a surprise in a genre that at this point in time probably
drew at least some of its pull from the power of nostalgia, the wish of a
post-war country for a simpler and clearer time. At least, that’s the view of
the genre the more rebellious jidai geki and chambara films of the 60s and
beyond seem to have been working against. The more films of the era before this
new wave I see, the more I’m inclined to say that’s a half truth at best,
though, the younger directors in their Sturm und Drang underplaying
those qualities of the earlier films they are actually continuing.
Of course, Magistrate Toyama is not all subversion all the time.
This is after all film where the not exactly nice and progressive shogun is
saved from revolutionaries; though these are revolutionaries of the kind who
really don’t want to change anything about the order of things but only about
who’s sitting on top. One of the film’s conspirators is also only driven to the
deed because he’s convinced the shogun has tasked him with a costly construction
project to ruin him; given precedents in actual Tokugawa shogunate history, he’s
probably even right. The thing is, Toyama isn’t setting out to investigate a
threat against the shogunate, he’s setting out to find the reason why three
innocents are murdered, and just tenaciously follows through where this leads
him.
On a stylistic level, Falcon Magistrate is a very typical Toei jidai
geki/pulpy mystery film, with the high technical level and the extremely solid
and dependable cast that suggests. While Fukada isn’t a great stylist, he keeps
things moving nicely, finds time for a handful of moodily shot scenes, some
minor yet satisfying sword fight set pieces, and does a very fine job with the
film’s dramatic climax as well as a pleasantly short, to the point, and
effective court room courtyard scene to tie things up. I suspect it’s the sort
of genre movie everyone involved in Toei’s production machine could have made in
his sleep; it’s also very satisfying and enjoyable, if you care about the tales’
more subversive elements or not. As if that wasn’t enough, there’s also the joy
of watching Chiezo Kataoka, at this point in time not looking like any sort of
leading man you’d have found in a Hollywood film of the same era, but oozing
easy charisma and a joy of living that makes him utterly believable as this
particular hero.
Friday, April 3, 2020
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