over the cliff
by Douglas Messerli
Seiji Hoshikawa (screenplay, based
on a story by Akira Ichijō), Seijun Suzuki (director) すべてが狂ってる (Subete ga kurutteru)
(Everything Goes Wrong) / 1960
If one can imagine a re-mix of the
American popular film series Gidget with
Douglas Sirk’s Rebel without a Cause with
a soupçon of West Side Story mixed
in, one might reveal some notion of what Seijun Suzuki’s 1960s SunTribe film,
“The Cliff and the Madness of Youth” (a title that surely calls up Rebel)—released in the US now as Everything Goes Wrong—is like.
What is so remarkable about Suzuki’s
film, 57 years after its original shooting, is just how current it still feels
to that time. These gang members dance, not quite like Jerome Robbins’ West Side Story characters, but through
the endlessly electric and jumpy camera images of Suzuki. For the first part of
the movie, indeed, any old time-viewers need not apply. Suzuki looks ahead to
the cellphone text-message society of today, whipping through relationships and
conversations faster that the ear can sometimes even ascertain—at least these
older, pre-contemporary ears. Conversations between friends are completely
cryptic, cut off mid-discussion, personalized to such a degree that, during the
first few moments, it is difficult even to establish the student’s (and
adult’s) relationships with one another. But, of course, that is part of the
problem, at least as Jirō Sugita (Tamio Kawachi) perceives it. His mother, the
traditionally-bound Misayo, has taken up, presumably after the death of his
father in the war, with a wealthy married business man, Keigo Nanbara. To us he
seems a loving replacement, helping to pay for Misayo expenses, as well as the
education of Jirō; but to her son he is not only an interloper, but a man who
is paying for his mother as if she were a prostitute—a endless theme in
Japanese filmmaking.
On top of the youthful dissatisfaction and jump-cut editing of their
behavior, Suzuki also adds a brilliant jazz-score by composer Keitarō Miho,
including song-cuts from current groups
Indeed, despite the hateful and rude expressions of Jirō, Nambara
determines that he must simply “connect up” with the youth and “talk with him”
to resolve the distress expressed by Misayo. That, of course, is his big
mistake. To try to sympathize with a young person by suggesting you might
comprehend his angst is like calling across a canyon while being shaken by an
earthquake. As one of the Jet’s gang says in West Side Story, when a similar adult suggests, “When I was your
age,” “You were never my age!”
Trying to track down Misayo’s son, Nambara encounters several of his
“wild” friends, including a girl Etsuko, who, in an attempt to seduce the elder
into her room, tells him she will be at the Zushi beach resort with her friends
and Jirō the next day. Clueless, Nambara shows
If the mix-up and the following violence—in which Jirō nearly bludgeons
the elder man to death—and runs off in a police car chase that ultimately kills
him, is a bit contrived, so be it. It’s a scream out to youth—with both its
moral freshness and its total lack of vision—that can only make one cry for the
impossibility to bring these groups together. As in both Rebel without a Cause and West
Side Story, the elders can only look on after the youth’s deaths with a
feeling of distress for their not being to deter the inevitable, feeling like
sacks of flesh that can no longer have much effect on the next generation’s
lives. Although Nambara forgives is youthful attacker, it has utterly no
meaning—unless you believe in some religious redemption.
Nearly all of the SunTribe movies, films
based the contemporary youth subculture and “their affinity for beach life,
jazz music, and progressive attitudes towards sex,” met with great public
outrage and eventually were halted on behalf of the Japanese Motion Picture
Code of Ethics Committee. Yet the genre came back again even stronger, soon
after, including the production of this film.
Today, Suzuki’s films, particularly this one, seem in sync with the
French New Wave, and present us with a completely different vision of the great
Japanese modernists such as Ozu, Kurosawa, and others. Along with the later Hani and, of course,
Oshima, through Suzuki, western viewers were able to get a completely new
perspective of Japanese contemporary culture.
Los Angeles, September 21, 2017
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (September 2017).
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