every man a murder
by Douglas Messerli
Nobuo
Nakagawa and Ichirō Miyagawa (screenplay), Nobuo Nakagawa (director) 地獄 Jigoku
(The Sinners of Hell) / 1960
In some ways it might almost seem that the film’s hero, a theology
student, Shirō (Shigeru Amachi), is
not worthy of his hellacious punishment. After all, he was simply a rider in
the car driven by his satanic friend, Tamura (Yōichi Numata), which hits and
kills a drunken gangster. Even as Tamura flees, Shirō pleads
that they go back.
Yet, as the film’s written preface makes clear, hell is not so much the
reward for guilty, as it is for those whose conscience makes them suffer their
perceived guilt. And director Nobuo Nakagawa’s work, subtly suggests, as did
Austrian novelist Heimito von Doderer, “every man a murderer.” Poor Shirō is
further made to suffer when instead of walking with his fiancée, Yukiko (Utako
Mitsuya), to report the incident to the police, he determines to hail a taxi,
which ends in an accident and her death. Fate is evidently against him, as the
gangster’s mother, who has witnessed the incident, along with the Yakuza’s
girlfriend, plot Shirō’s moral decline and, ultimately, his and Tamura’s death,
although we might reasonably imagine that Tamura is already a walking corpse,
determined to capture the souls of others.
When Shirō is called to visit his dying mother Ito (Kimie Tokudaij), in
a distant retirement center, he discovers his father, Gōzō Shimizu (Hiroshi
Hayashi) in the very next room making love to Kinuko, his mistress. In fact,
the entire old age center seems to be inhabited by social outsiders, most of
whom the vengeful mother and the gangster’s girlfriend quickly put out of their
misery with poisoned alcohol.
There’s a lot else about an alcoholic painter, Ensai, working on a
picture of hell, and his nurse daughter, the beautiful Sachiko (also played by
Utako Mitsuya), to whom Shirō takes a fancy—after all she is a spitting image
of Yukiko—as well as great many minor figures, all of whom, it is revealed, are
also murderers.
Yet these lesser figures are not as important as the phantasmagoric scenes from Limbo, where Shirō once again encounters Yukiko, who reveals that, at the time of death, she had been carrying a baby girl she has now named "Harumi," setting her afloat on the river to the underworld, which the former theology student now enters with hopes to retrieve. The eight rings of Hell, overseen by Lord Enma, are as terrifying as any Bosch painting, a world wherein he encounters several of his other acquaintances, all tortured by being boiled alive, dismembered, beaten, and cut open only to repeat the process all over again. There he also re-encounters his dead mother, who reveals that she had an affair with the painter Ensai, and that Sachiko is his sister through that relationship.
Lord
Enma gives Shirō one chance only to save his baby daughter, and the sinner
jumps onto the wheel of time, seemingly unable to reach her, and permit himself
salvation. Yet the wheel is stopped at precisely 9:00, a time that is repeated
throughout the film, a bit like the repeated moments of time in Luis Buñuel’s The Exterminating Angel—the very moment
when the gangster’s mother has poisoned all the citizens of the old age facility.
At
film’s end we perceive at the least the possibility of salvation, as Sachiko
and Yukiko, in sublime light, call out to their brother and lover, as lotus
petals, traditionally representing purity, fall to the ground around them.
In many ways, Jigoku, with its
lurid colors, impossibly complex storyline, and over-the-top events of horror,
is a kind of campy hoot, which perhaps accounts for its near-cult status.
Nevertheless, it is so utterly watchable and fascinating in its commitment to
study guilt and punishment, that, once you have seen it, you cannot easily put
out of your mind. And as brutal as its depiction of Hell are, like Dante’s Inferno it is a work that you need to
re-experience. I don’t believe in Hell or Heaven, but I wonder at human
depictions of both.
Los Angeles, December 8, 2016
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (December 2016)
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