Play it Cool

Sometimes you just have to Play it Cool (1970).... ok so I started that sentence without knowing quite how to finish it but why not keep it in? Play it Cool is one of director, Yasuzo Masumura’s lesser-known films. Though arguably one of the most fascinating directors of the 1960’s, that Masumura never quite had a trademark genre means rarely gets the attention he perhaps deserves; he could move between genres with relative ease and this might mark him out as the Japanese Michael Curtiz (I have a suspicion I may have said this before): the ability to make a film in any genre, make it well, and make it at speed.  

Demure student, Yumi (Mari Atsumi), lives at home with her mother, Tomi (Akemi Negishi) who works as a hostess and has a history of terrible taste in men. After a series of unpleasant events Yumi starts working for the same madam (Sanae Nakahara) in the same bar as her mother did, and catches the eye of a local yakuza... only to be bought out of it by Nozawa (Yusuke Kawazu), who offers her a job in a fancy Ginza joint, where she sees her chance to make some money.

You can see maybe why Play it Cool has struggled to find an audience. Years ago, Yume Pictures released Kisses, Manji, Red Angel and Irezumi - Arrow released HD versions of all of these bar Kisses and added further releases in the Masumura filmography, and these are some pretty colossal films. Watching the restored version of Manji last year at the London Film Festival was remarkable, a melodrama skirting utter absurdity by such a hair’s breadth it seemed almost impossible; a film that could be almost laughable is instead a joy, and bearing hallmarks of both the director and possible influences such as Douglas Sirk’s classic 1950s melodramas... whereas Play it Cool is not so easily classifiable a film. Consider the situation: Japanese censorship in terms of sex and nudity is easing, we’re close to Roman Porno and Pinky Violence, and there’s a desire for sex, nudity and excitement in the mainstream. Violence has never been so much a problem on screen. Daiei as a studio is failing and Masumura is their star director helping trying to draw in the crowds and the money, and within this milieu he is making a film that actually turns out to arguably be something of a minor masterpiece, but on paper reads as just another exploitation story.  

That this may be a minor classic is not immediately apparent because of what the film could be and reveals itself not to be. Early on, as we see Yumi in her small home that she shares with her mother and her mother's wastrel boyfriend, we see Yumi’s legs as she rocks the treadle to an old sewing machine, we instinctively know this is not mere voyeurism on the director’s part but the camera is viewing from the perspective of the mother’s boyfriend lusting after Yumi and we can be pretty sure what will happen...

And it does, but what happens after, at the dinner table where Yumi is trying to deal with the awful act of violation against her but also facing her mother and this man. Trying to spare her mother the truth while also not shying away from it, it is a scene that gets to the truth of Yumi and her mother. The scene never diminishes what has happened to Yumi but it also does not allow it to define her. It should be noted that the rape is not like some films of the period, there is no lingering on it at all. This is something that we see throughout, though there are Pink film aspects, Masumura may not shy from it, but never revels in it.  

Arguably this is not surprise, nor is the story of the film, as many of Masumura’s best works are those focusing on women, often those who are manipulated in almost impossible circumstances, but who do not allow this to define them. Masumura tends to explore the emotional complexities that surround his female characters. The core of his work which I first encountered, Red Angel, Manji and Irezumi are certainly that, as is the surreal pinky film Blind Beast. This matters because Yumi really is the centre of the film, her character drives everything and she is subtly powerful. She may not have power per se, but her character seems almost preternaturally capable, and why? Love. Because she learns. Because she refuses to sell herself for nothing; she may be exploiting herself but she is the person that profits from it and controls it.  Yumi is a remarkable character because it’s both a performance and a situation that most other films would not know what to do with. I say this knowing that she plays poker, expertly, with men for sex (or not if they lose) and though this is a narrative conceit and an intriguing motif the film plays with, it is more symbolic of how she takes control of her situation without people realising that she is the one with power. As a narrative conceit it’s only a minor thing, but reflective of how she is similar to Meiko Kaji’s Nami in the Female Prisoner 701 Scorpion films; curiously in control and calm regardless of the situation, yet in Yumi and Play it Cool the scenario and her character is more nuanced.

As the film opens you could describe Yumi as “a good girl” and the point is that she is arguably good throughout, making the best of the cards she's been dealt. Because she knows the world through the eyes of her mother, there is nothing she is surprised about - there may be situations she hasn't personally experienced before, but nothing is new. At the same time Yumi’s character is not cynical. She wants what is best for her mother, and arguably bears almost no one ill-will.  

It's this focus and integrity given to Yumi that elevates the film so highly. As the film ended I realised I almost never recognised how Mari Atsumi as Yumi changed gradually but also stayed the same. She is completely a person. For all that there are aspects of exploitation cinema, never once does this impinge on Yumi’s progression as a person. She is grounded in reality and this is often seen in small things, like when playing with her mother’s boyfriend's playing card. which features a naked woman instead of a suit. Classy. But this is the world she has come to know.

There’s also a tremendous amount of humour, sometimes warmth and aspects of Masumura’s 1950s satire, Giants and Toys, often brought to the fore. Warmth might come in odd ways – like Ko Nishmirua’s rich elderly nightclub owner who asks her to be his mistress because better his money goes to her each month than his grasping relatives. The moment he dies, his awful relatives are there maligning Yumi while saying how the old man worked so hard to look after his relatives. The heightened reality of it all is arguably obvious, but seeing Yumi sat alone by the body is touching, even if at the same time she is scheming. This is the core of her character, capable of managing conflicting emotions while remaining a human being. The shift between how people act and feel is present throughout and the tone is always deftly handed by Masumura, but at the same time because moments in the film shift between absurdist satire, exploitative assault and coolly taking control, it means that Play it Cool is not always easily classifiable – oops did I mention that again – but it is always assured in its story telling. Moreover, Yumi as a character is engaging and her subtle shifts throughout are managed so that they seem invisible and always feel genuine.  

As the film opened I thought it might go in a certain direction. It did and did not. It’s skewed, unusual, wrongfoots the viewer while also following the expected path, but this is the mark of a great filmmaker. A master can take the conventional and channel it such that is feels fresh, real and surprising. While the premise of the film could easily be dismissed, my hope is that it instead celebrated as a subversive piece of exploitation cinema that has masterful execution and an engaging lead, all captured in thrilling glory by a master of his craft.