[Film Review] Stolen Desire (1958) 7.4/10

STOLEN DESIRE is the feature debut of Japanese New Wave’s doyen Shôhei Imamura, it follows an itinerant kabuki troupe, performing in their “tent theater” first in Osaka, and then in the countryside areas, where in the former, amid the city’s post-WWII economic prosperity, the scanty audience’s only interest is the burlesque pre-show, à la French cancan, whereas in the latter, the bumper provincial folks are equally enthusiastic in both the raunchy and the traditional, a young Imamura shows enough acumen about the social implications of Japan’s shifting mentality and urban/rural divides.

The troupe is lead by Taminosuke (Takizawa), a veteran thespian, married to Osen (Sugai) and has two adult daughters Chidori (Minamida, whose demure complexion stunningly betrays the tangible feeling of desire and yearning) and Chigusa (Kita, more open-minded than what we might expect her to be), but our main protagonist is Shinichi Kunida (Nagato, perpetually haunted by ennui or angst, often fly off the handle at the drop of a hat), a university graduate who assumes the role as the troupe’s artistic director freshly out of the ivory tower, carrying a torch for the married Chidori, he is simultaneously coveted by the nubile Chigusa, who isn’t mincing words about her affection.

Their love triangle is candidly if tentatively consumed by passion and carnal knowledge, and in the end of the day, the solution is facilitated by both Chidori and Chigusa’s decisions, one passive, one active, while Shinichi is ailed by the typical man’s oscillation, he cannot make up his mind of what he really wants.

That also says a lot about Shinichi’s idealist slant on the troupe, his high-brow attempt of innovating their repertoire is at odds with the rest’s contentment of the status quo, for them, the theater is merely a skill to subsist their hand-to-mouth existence, no higher pursuance is required.

Clear-eyedly, Imamura doesn’t take sides of this generational chasm, the secular (the business-oriented village hags), even vulgar (men’s lascivious nature) aspects can elicit undeniable amusement as they are hopelessly inherent. Take Kanji (played by Kô Nishimura with unapologetic chutzpah) for instance, a licentious loudmouth/dissenter wades into a gaggle of girls to be lionized for his funny antics, yet back in the troupe, he is spineless to pour oil on troubled waters when two of his casual lovers engage in a catfight, including a feisty Minako Katsuki as a peasant girl who decides to join the group to start anew, at any price.

By comparison, the budding intelligentsia represented by a hot-headed Shinichi is shown too eager, too monomaniac in their revolutionized ambition, hindered by the detachment of the reality, you cannot talk about art with an empty stomach.

Incorporating western strains with Japanese percussions and strings, Imamura conjures up a rumbustious comedy that pluckily tackles the conflicts between modernization and tradition head on, often droll, intelligent and viscerally compelling, one can discern his future virtuosity in this auspicious first work, and complaisantly intones, the best is yet to come.

referential entries: Imamura’s THE BALLAD OF NARAYAMA (1983, 8.0/10); Akira Kurosawa’s HIGH AND LOW (1963, 8.5/10).