Eighteen Years in Prison

Welcome to Radiance’s third of four Tai Kato releases for the year, his 1967 film Eighteen Years in Prison. Radiance’s Kato releases so far have been superb, I, the Executioner being the absolute standout and By A Man’s Face Shall You Know Him being hot on its heels.  

On the hottest night of the year to date, in a mood subject to uncontrolled irritability (I do not like the heat), I finally turned my attention to Eighteen Years in Prison. I’d tried to watch it a few nights before but being (allegedly) temporarily of small brain I switched to lighter fare. I was definitely wanting to give this Tai Kato release my full attention.  

Feeling guilt for surviving the war, Kawada (Noboru Ando) and Tsukada (Asao Koike) steal to feed and finance bereaved families. Found stealing copper wire that may allow them fulfil their dream to buy land and start a community free from the black market, Kawada allows himself to be caught so Tsukada can escape with their loot.

Branded a thug, Kawada faces the brutal reality of prison, though eventually finding an uneasy alliance with a guard, Hannya (Tomisaburo Wakayama). The world outside though is changing and Tsukada is seduced by the lure of wealth and power, and caught between them both is Hisako (Hiroko Sakuramachi), who loves Kawada but is lusted after by Tsukadar.

The opening sequences of the film bears comparison with Battles Without Honour and Humanity in how the struggle to survive post-World War Two is presented; anything and everything will be done to survive; violence and murder are tools, but the difference now is the purpose; this is not enrichment of the yakuza but a way to serve, perhaps to atone. This film also shares Battles antipathy towards American soldiers and their behaviour as occupiers; looking for Hisako, Kawada saves her from being gang-raped by US GIs stationed there, again echoing the beginning of the first Battles film (though of course this film predates Battles); Kawada too has overtones of Bunta Sugawara’s character in Battles as both are broadly honourable men, where one finds a home in the yakuza while the other pursues a more noble goal (of course both will end up in prison). In how our two protagonists wish to buy land and setup a mark it also has aspects of narrative similar to Kato’s By A man’s Face Shall You Know Him, also starring Noboru Ando.  

Ando as Kawada is very noble, almost an honourable samurai/yakuza type, yet he’s never a cypher and this careful attention to characterisation and the character's reaction to the world they find themselves in runs throughout the film. I say this because in many ways the story is pure pulp, yet like Seijun Suzuki, Kato has that ability to elevate the content, even if his approach is very different to Suzuki’s. Arguably, how the story is treated reminded me in general of storytelling that is effortlessly extended beyond the generic in the way that Howard Hawks did so often and without being able to quite define how he did it; this is then coupled with a John Ford like ability to create an image that startles you, have immense meaning and  could be framed and placed on the wall, yet again often this is with its own spin. There is a moment late in the film where Tsukada is being poured a drink, and the glass is framed in front of his face, so that he turns into a grotesque being and at this point we truly understand the type of man that he has become. So this is both image that makes you pause because it impresses and then lingers as the metaphor for the man himself resonates. This extends further as we realise that it is in a bar with Hisako, who is being made to work there, virtually a prisoner and the emotional nuances in Hiroko Sakuramachi’s face shows us Hisako’s thorough contempt for who and what Tsukada now is.  

But let’s return to prison, as here is where much of the film takes place; also many of the prison scenes illustrate how well the film is both performed and thoughtful in developing its characters. There is nothing of the maliciously brutal, pantomime guards that I would argue are unnecessary but visible in say the Female Prisoner 701 Scorpion films. OK, this is not a film of that ilk, but prison films can tend towards excess and broad brush strokes, especially when it comes to corrupt and brutal guards. It was lovely to see Tomisaburo Wakayama in a purely dramatic role, also to see his character be given depth because at first he seems just the brutal guard, and though he is hardly an angel, his role is important because he is a bridge between the world of the prison and that of the outside, and here the morally questionable machinations start to appear and congeal. Again you can consider parallels with Kinji Fukasaku’s 70’s yakuza work in how characters often may seem to be your friend, and to an extent they may help you where it helps them, but there are plots within ploys, and many are led by greed, lust, and often fear. Equally, the violence, like Fukasaku’s work, has an immediacy to it; it is handled differently, the context is often different, but it can be brutal, sudden, and makeshift.  

Once again though Kato grounds everything in character; Kawada is noble but many of his deeds are for understandable emotional reasons, including and especially love (however unconsummated) – and as the film tells us, often what is missing is love, both romantic and of family – and how he engages with those around him drives the story. There is obviously the need for a showdown due too the moral collapse of his friend, but there is also real chemistry between Ando as Kawada and Hiroko Sakuramachi as Hisako. Though they rarely share screen time together you can imagine their feelings, it feels real and palpable. The romantic tension, and also seeing how in other ways Kawada looks out for Hisako, makes you root for these two characters. It provides a solid emotional connection to the film. We also feel connections to other characters, like an lag (Michitaro Mizushima), who is an inveterate criminal but like Kawada is essentially noble; the opposing side of that is ‘King’, the young man growing up in the age of war, whose violence is born of having nothing which leads to nihilism and again this brings in important aspects of character and narrative but also social commentary. Kato is looking at the impact of war via narrative cinema. We are presented with entertainment but there are explorations of serious themes without providing easy answers, and ‘King’ brings much of this social awareness to the fore.  

I noted the visual aspect of the film earlier and Kato often catches us unawares. Kawada, after his first beating, having pointed the finger at Hinnya for his corruption, as he hangs, beaten and exhausted, Kato presents us with still images of Hisako, but interestingly these are glimpses of her, close up and intent: such as the shape of her neck behind her ear. These are presented as images Kawada is using to cling to, to keep himself going, and you can imagine him treasuring these fragments of remembrance to keep himself sane. Later, before a shrine, he is met by the new, more open deputy warden, they sit in a darkened image, formalised and the symmetry suggests a sense of equalness and despite their positions an odd meeting of minds. Once again image brings meaning not just impact.

I, the Exectioner hooked me utterly from the first moment. It was a rare thing and kept me invested throughout. Eighteen Years in Prison was never going to have that same immediate first moment of rapture, but it is a film that pulls you in as you watch and I found it lingering with me long after the credits rolled. Small things, such as Kawada almost impossibly noble sentiments risks making the character unbelievable, yet this never happens despite his being almost preternaturally selfless. This is because his selflessness is grounded in recognisable human emotion, he gains from what he does just as others might. Ando’s performance is quietly excellent, and frankly everyone is, though the tension between Ando and Sakuramachi as Hisako is the highlight, yet throughout we are presented with a humane human drama, one that can be enjoyed by those looking for a thriller and those a social drama. Tai Kato, again, showing us that he has been overlooked for far, far too long.