love is blind
by
Douglas Messerli
Hiroshi
Shimizu (writer and director) 按摩と女 Anma to onna
(The Masseurs and a Woman) / 1938
Hiroshi Shimizu’s
1938 comedy, The Masseurs and a Woman,
is fairly simple in terms of its narrative structure, which is basically a
loosely built picaresque in which events shift as the blind masseurs, all
working at a series of northern Japanese inns, are called from room to room. In
Japan during this period, most masseurs were blind, which helped maintain the
women customer’s modesty. And much is made of their blindness throughout.
At one point, they are even able to discern that 8 children are
approaching, although Toku points out that the group actually consists of 8 ½,
one of the children holding a baby on her back. In another instance, as they
move aside for a passing carriage, Toku perceives that she is from Tokyo,
simply from her smell. These iterant travelers—they later admit to having no
home—are perhaps far more accomplished in their actions than those who are
full-sighted. After all, these men can also help relieve pain, and can perceive
sorrow and tension even in their customers bones.
Besides, a neighboring inn contains an unmarried Tokyo man and his bratty and bored nephew who, at first are simply staying the night, but when the elder meets the beautiful Michiko (unnamed in the movie) determines to stay a couple of more days, inviting her into his room for dinner.
Of course, there are other interludes as the male hikers who have
stubbornly attempted to pass the masseurs suffer the muscular consequences,
needing Toku’s services, and a group of female hikers who seem much more hardy
that any of the others, but also seek out Toku’s healing hands. But the real
center of the tale is a sort of love triangle that is established between the
male from Tokyo, Toku, and the mysterious Tokyo woman. Why is she traveling
alone, and, more importantly, why suddenly are there a series of robberies of
men who take to the baths?
Both Michiko and Toku attempt to bond with the Tokyo man’s bored son,
without much success, since the boy is as mercurial as any child of his age and
becomes angered when the adults spend time with one another; at one moment he
is determined to stay and soon after insists that he and his uncle should
leave.
More importantly, as Toku perceives the growing relationship with the
uncle and Michiko, he is made to feel his own inferiority, and determines to
save what he has now determined as the guilty woman, leading her during a
police raid to a hide-out and insisting that she flee the scene.
When Michiko finally recognizes his attempted heroism, she admits that
she is there not as a secret robber but a secret lover who has attempted to
leave a wealthy man to whom she has long served as mistress.
The events with the police presumably lead her former lover to uncover
her whereabouts, and the last scene of the film show her in a carriage with a
policeman and, presumably, the patron from whom she has tried to escape. In a
sense, she has been guilty of robbery, in this case simply of love, and Toku,
recognizing the situation sadly stares into space, knowing that he has lost the
love of his life.
The blind masseurs speak often of checking out reality through their
eyes, of watching their clients and seeing what’s going on; but like all the
others who are just as blind to reality, they stumble into rash presumptions.
Yet these masseurs have something the others don’t, the ability to touch and
fondle the individuals around them. If their love is never openly sexual, at
least they come in contact with human flesh; and in that sense, they have far
more than most of these vacationers who find little to amuse themselves other
than the lovely surrounding landscape. If the
beautiful Tokyo woman must return to her empty relationship and the Tokyo man
and his adopted son must return empty-handed to their home, at least Toku and
Fuku can “look forward” (a term they themselves might use) to further
adventures, as bittersweet as these may be.
In the end, it seems more difficult to categorize (if one needed to do
so) Shimizu’s lovely film, for although the comic may seem to dominate, it’s
also a love story, a mystery, and, most importantly, a kind of pre-Beckettian
statement of existential life of the “I can’t go on. I’ll go on” variety. These
two blind masseurs, in fact, can only remind us of Beckett figures such as
Mercier and Camier.
Shimizu did over 160 films, so there is obviously so much more to be
explored about his art.
Los Angeles, May 3, 2018
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (May 2018).
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