Mimmo Addabbo - Lolli,Ubaldo Vinci, Gianni Parlagreco,Catalfamo,Fabris, Valentino,Margareci,Crimi,Fano e i Sigilli
martedì 6 gennaio 2026
Yasuzō Masumura - Storia del cinema nipponico dal 1896 al 1954 - 2, La fase di espansione
Il secondo periodo del cinema giapponese comincia con la costituzione della «Nikkatsu Motion Pictures Company*», grossa società nata dalla fusione di-quattro importanti case produttrici. La Nikkatsu costruì «ex novo» due grandi studi, a Tokyo e a Kyoto, equipaggiati con gli apparecchi più moderni, ed iniziò con impegno la produzione di pellicole di maggiore lunghezza e di maggior pregio artistico di quelle precedenti. Per esempio, lo studio della Nikkatsu di Tokyo nel sollo 1913 realizzò 155 film di circa mille metri di lunghezza ciascuno.
mercoledì 17 dicembre 2025
鬼畜 [The Demon] 1978 - 出典: フリー百科事典 French Connection II] 1975
野村 芳太郎 Yoshitarō Nomura 鬼畜, The Demon, 1978
本名 John Frankenheimer, 出典: フリー百科事典『ウィキペディア, French Connection II, 1975
岩下志麻, Iwashita Shima
緒形 明伸 Ken Ogata
本名はユージーン・アレン・ハックマン Gene Hackman
giovedì 13 novembre 2025
Yasuzō Masumura* - Storia del cinema nipponico dal 1896 al 1954 - 1, gli albori
Il primo film
che il popolo giapponese ebbe occasione di-vedere fu uno dei cortometraggi
della «Vitascope» di Edison, proiettato nel 1896 nella città portuale di Kobe.
L’anno successive venne importato in Giappone il proiettore cinematografico dei
Lumiére. Questa meravigliosa invenzione della scienza moderna venne entusiasticamente
accolta dal popolo giapponese che, dopo la vittoria riportata sulla Cina nel
1895, era particolarmente avido di aggiornarsi sulle conquiste della civiltà occidentale.
Un giornale del tempo scrisse: «I misteri del XX secolo, caratterizzati dalla magia
della scienza, le città del mondo occidentale, simili a fantasiosi paesaggi di
sogno, vennero con somma evidenza mostrati agli spettatori comodamente seduti
nella sala di proiezione».
Il primo film
giapponese venne realizzato nel I898 da un fotografo di Tokyo: era un cortometraggio
che riproduceva la vita quotidiana di questa città. Il primo dilm con un
intreccio e dei protagonisti apparve nel 1899. Portava sullo schermo un episodio
di cronaca, un coraggioso poliziotto che arrestava un feroce assassino dopo un
conflitto sanguinoso. L’anno dopo venne girato a Kyoto, l’antica capitale del
Giappone, un film che riproduceva alcune scene dell’antico teatro «Kabuki». Da allora
in poi vennero successivamente prodotti molti film di poco meno di 150 metri
ciascuno. Nel 1904 venne costruito a Tokyo il primo studio cinematografico del
Giappone e l’anno successivo sorse il secondo a Kyoto.
In base alla
tendenza generale lo studio di Tokyo produsse film tratti da avvenimenti contemporanei,
interpretati da attori senza esperienza teatrale; viceversa, lo studio di Kyoto
realizzava pellicole che riproducevano alcuni drammi famosi del Kabuki, con
attori di teatro. I film prodotti a Tokyo vennero chiamati «Gendaigeki» (film
contemporanei) e quelli di Kyoto «Jidaigeki» (rappresentazioni in costume). Questa
suddivisione avrebbe costituito una rigida tradizione dellacinematografica nipponica, dovuta al fatto che la
vecchia città di Kyoto rappresentava il luogo più adatto, dal punto di vista
artistico ed economico, alla produzione di film in costume, mentre la nuova
capitale, Tokyo, era tutta protesa verso il progresso.
Alla fine dell’Era
Meiji* (1912), il Giappone era dotato di cinque teatri, di posa e di
innumerevoli sale cinematografiche: soltanto a Tokyo ve n’erano settecento. Ma
tutti i film prodotti in questo periodo erano delle opere assolutamente
primitive, riproduzioni semplici e dirette di episodi di vita reale o di scene
del teatro drammatico, lontane da qualsiasi interpretazione artistica.
*https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E5%A2%97%E6%9D%91%E4%BF%9D%E9%80%A0
*https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yasuz%C5%8D_Masumura
*https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yasuz%C5%8D_Masumura
*https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Periodo_Meiji
lunedì 10 novembre 2025
安部 公房, Kōbō Abe, 武満 徹 Takemitsu Tōru, 勅使河原 宏, Teshigahara Hiroshi 1962 - 1964 with Walz
giovedì 14 agosto 2025
若松孝二 会う 塞吉歐·李昂尼 - Koji Wakamatsu meet Sergio Leone
Screenshot from: 現代好色伝 テロルの季節 Season of Terror (1969) Koji Wakamatsu
狂沙十萬里 1968年12月21日: Diecimila miglia di
sabbie selvagge
Aka C'era una volta il West/Once
Upon a Time in the West
导演 direttore 塞吉歐·李昂尼: Sergio Leone
编剧 sceneggiatori:
柏納多·貝托魯奇 Bernardo Bertolucci
配乐 Colonna sonora: 恩尼奥·莫里科内 Ennio Morricone
摄影 fotografia: 東尼諾·戴笠·寇利 Tonino Delli Colli
剪辑 montaggio: 尼諾·巴拉利 Nino Baragli
克勞蒂雅·卡汀娜 Claudia
Cardinale - 吉尔·麦克贝恩(Jill McBain)
亨利·方达 – Henry
Fonda 弗兰克(Frank)
贾森·罗巴兹 – Jason Robards 夏安(Cheyenne)
查爾斯·布朗森 – Charles
Bronson 哈莫尼克(Harmonica)
martedì 7 gennaio 2025
会田 昌江 alias 原節子
HARA SETSUKO
(1920-2015)
By Tony
Rayns
ONE OF JAPAN’S BEST-LOVED FILMED ACTRESSES since
her teenage years, Hara Setsuko left the film industry in 1963 at the age of
forty-three—a few months after the death of Ozu Yasujiro, for whom she’d acted
memorably in six features. She withdrew completely from public life, living
outside Tokyo in Kamakura, refusing to be photographed and declining requests
for interviews. This Garbo-like retreat inevitably fostered a powerful
mystique, which endured until her death last September, itself kept secret by
her relatives for two months after her funeral. The Togeki Theater in Tokyo’s
Higashi-Ginza district happened to be presenting newly restored Ozu films in
the week her passing became known, and a large, uncaptioned photo of her was
posted front-of-house. The sixty-two-year-old image (from Ozu’s Tokyo
Story, 1953) alone was enough to trigger grief and nostalgia.
Much Japanese cinema of the 1930s was lost in the Allied
fire-bombing of Tokyo, but one of Hara’s earliest featured performances
miraculously survives. She plays the market stall-holder Onami in Yamanaka
Sadao’s excellent Kochiyama Soshun (1936), a young woman
worried about the increasing delinquency of her brother. It’s clear that she
was cast not only for her sweet-sixteen-ness (she seems credibly older), but
also because she responded to Yamanaka’s demand for a naturalistic acting
style, quite removed from the kabuki conventions that dominated period dramas
of the time. A year later she was cast in a then-prestigious Japanese-German
co-production as a young woman pushed away by her fiancé on his return from
Nazi Germany, and she went on to appear in several wartime propaganda films,
all designed to bolster the military government’s call for self-sacrifice and
loyalty to the codes of bushido, “the way of the warrior.”
Her reluctance to give interviews even during her heyday
leaves us unsure how Hara felt about the roles she was asked to play, but her
radiance in postwar Ozu and Naruse pictures—almost always playing unmarried
daughters, widows, or unhappy wives, internalizing unspoken emotional pain and
disappointment—suggests a high degree of consonance between her off-screen life
and feelings and her frequent on-screen roles. Like Ozu, Hara herself never
married. She chose to live alone after her early retirement; her countless
Japanese fans dubbed her “the eternal virgin,” partly because she had no
reported romantic attachments, partly because she made such a mark as Noriko,
the daughter who chooses to look after her widower father rather than get
married and move out in Ozu’s Late Spring (1949).
She was born Aida Masae, one of eight children in a Yokohama
family, and used family connections to get an acting contract with the
production company Nikkatsu in 1935, when she was just fifteen. (Her elder
sister was married to the then-leftist director Kumagai Hisatora, a Nikkatsu
employee.) We’ll never know what ambitions she had in her mid-teens, but she
would certainly have seen Japanese movies in which women protagonists, played
by the likes of Yamada Isuzu and Tanaka Kinuyo, protested loudly against the
social, moral, and economic constraints on women’s lives. The distinguished
Japanese critic Sato Tadao argues that Hara’s postwar status reflects her
embodiment of the silent sufferings of Japanese people in general as they
struggled to reconcile traditional values with the adjustment to
“modernization” under the US occupation.
Ozu and Naruse, in their formalized melodramas, used Hara’s smiling-through-adversity persona as a subtle signifier of hidden social pressures. Their slightly younger contemporary Kurosawa Akira, more comfortable with full-blown melodrama, had her star in two movies that plunged into the strains and contradictions of postwar life much more explicitly. In No Regrets for Our Youth (1946) she plays Yukie, the complacently bourgeois daughter of a liberal professor who is punished for his anti-war views in the ’30s; she has a torrid affair with an anti-war activist who dies in police custody and enters peacetime as a proudly dishevelled farmer, working to support her late partner’s peasant parents. And in The Idiot (1951), in which Kurosawa transposes Dostoyevsky’s novel to post-war Hokkaido, she plays Taeko (Dostoyevsky’s Nastasya), a kept woman since her mid-teens, who refuses to be ashamed of her past and mocks the various suitors who think they can buy her as a wife. These assertive, proto-feminist roles are the flip-side of Hara’s usual reticence; they hint at what lies behind her “eternal virgin” image. They also help us understand why Hara Setsuko was so revered in Japan, and around the world.
https://www.artforum.com/columns/tony-rayns-on-hara-setsuko-1920-2015-227761/
lunedì 9 dicembre 2024
Mikio Naruses's sureness
domenica 7 maggio 2023
mercoledì 23 novembre 2022
Kurosawa, Eastwood, Leone & the Confucian ideals and Catholic moral in Italy
What the classic Spaghetti Westerns
really owe to Akira Kurosawa
By Damian Flanagan*
I was recently rewatching the three spaghetti western
classics, "A Fistful of Dollars," "For a Few Dollars More,"
and "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" -- collectively known as
"The Dollars Trilogy" -- films that have long resonated in my imagination.
It's well known that "A Fistful of Dollars"
was an unauthorised reworking of Japanese director Akira Kurosawa's highly
regarded 1961 film, "Yojinbo" ("The Bodyguard"). Yet if you
think about what director Sergio Leone took most from Kurosawa in the trilogy,
then it seems less about just copying the character and plot for his opening
film and more about allowing Kurosawa's conceptual ideas to gradually inspire
Leone in uniquely interesting ways.
In "Yojinbo" -- a film about a masterless
samurai playing off two feuding houses of retainers against each other --
Kurosawa was daringly satirising the most important value system of pre-modern
Japan: The code of feudal loyalty, the idea that absolute, unquestioning
obedience to a feudal lord was the greatest samurai virtue.
Confucian ideals about loyalty underpinned the entire
power structure of Edo period (1603-1867) Japan and indeed carried on into the
modern age, transferred in the Meiji era (1868-1912) to submission to the
nation state, and finally in the post-war era to dedication to the Japanese
company.
Yet Kurosawa's anti-hero, memorably played by Toshiro
Mifune, is not a self-sacrificing samurai lifted from the pages of classic
plays like "The 47 Loyal Retainers," but rather a pragmatically
self-interested and self-contained man, completely uninterested in
"loyalty" and casually flipping his services between rival clans as
and when he feels like it.
In "A Fistful of Dollars" (1964), Sergio
Leone stayed mostly faithful to the plot of Kurosawa's original, simply
transposing the action from a Japanese village to a Wild West town and
retaining the claustrophobic atmosphere. It's still a story about an enigmatic
loner switching loyalty from one scheming clan to another, but in the Wild West
-- where vigorous individualism reigned supreme -- the trampling of the concept
of "loyalty" did not carry the same iconoclastic meaning as it did in
Japan.
Yet in subsequent films Leone began to explore how his
modern take on the Western could be used to subvert specifically European value
systems in the same way that Kurosawa had satirised traditional Japanese value
systems.
In "For a Few Dollars More" (1965) -- while
maintaining the same stylized gunfights, cast of degenerate-looking characters,
operatic elements and enigmatic lead character as "A Fistful of
Dollars" -- we have a narrative line which is informed not by Japan but in
reaction to the suffocating Catholic moral order of Leone's own native Italy.
Two competing bounty hunters (played by Clint Eastwood
and Lee Van Cleef) join forces to wipe out an entire band of outlaws. What
really strikes you though is the painterly way in which the director Sergio
Leone frames the assembly of bandits at a derelict church to resemble the
structure of Renaissance religious art works, such as Leonardo da Vinci's famous
portrait of "The Last Supper."
Indio, the bandit leader and his 12 accomplices, are
positioned in the centre of the church like Jesus and his twelve disciples,
sub-divided into groups of three. Indio, a pathological killer, is a kind of
anti-Jesus who assumes the pulpit to speak to his men about the next daring
crime they will commit. Into their midst arrives Eastwood's bounty hunter
character, pretending to be a bandit, though actually a Judas in their midst.
If Kurosawa subverted the prized concept of "loyalty"
at the heart of Japan's moral order, then Leone turned the "moral
authority" of Catholic Europe on its head. Judas, the ultimate villain of
European civilization, is here turned into Leone's angelic hero, while
"Jesus" and his apostles are recast as villains.
Before the bandits rob the bank at El Paso, they enjoy
a "Last Supper" together, breaking bread and gustily drinking wine.
"For a Few Dollars More" narrates a systematic hit job on the central
icons of Christianity, picking off the bandit apostles one by one, until we are
left with only the "anti-Jesus" Indio (played by Gian Maria Volonte),
shot through the heart by the Bible-reading Colonel Mortimer (Van Cleef).
Can you really get away with wiping out
"Jesus" and his whole crew? Won't you meet your comeuppance and hang
from a gibbet like Judas? Entering into the world of "The Good, The Bad
and the Ugly," we discover Blondie (Eastwood) and a new accomplice, Tuco
(Eli Wallach) running a scam that involves outlaw Tuco being repeatedly handed
over for a reward and brought to the point of being hung for crimes, before
having the rope around his neck shot away at the last minute by crack shot
Blondie. As if to taunt the immortal Christian legend of remorse and divine
retribution, these "Judases" (who soon start betraying each other)
keep surviving and tenaciously holding on to life, trying to keep hold of the
bounty they share.
If you were to ask, "What is the central message
of Catholic Europe, embodied in its timeworn artworks?" then it would be
this: Renounce all worldly desires and dreams of gold because the grave gapes
for you. The ephemerality of life, the folly of worldly ambition and the need
to prepare for the afterlife is the key message which suffuses not just all the
religious art of Christendom, but all the secular works, from still lives to
portraiture, too.
In Leone's vision, when at the climax of the film we
reach the seemingly infinite metaphysical graveyard, with identical crosses
panning out in every direction in which the two "Judases" Blondie and
Tuco are encircled, we know we are at the climax. The music soars to new
heights of ecstasy as Tuco, mesmerized and uncontainable, feels dizzy with
excitement at the thought of claiming the gold that is contained within the key
grave.
The entire religiously moral universe has been
overthrown and reconfigured as Ennio Morricone's music -- with its paganistic
yelps, animalistic beats and choral crescendos -- crashes in waves, again and
again. In this arena, gold is not being offered up to enter the grave; rather,
gold is being dug out of the grave to give luxury and meaning to life itself.
Kurosawa's genius is widely acknowledged in film
circles, but Leone's lesser appreciation belittles his achievements. Leone took
as his starting point two vastly different and alien influences, melded them,
reinterpreted them, and then used them as gothic buttresses in a cathedral of
ideas that allows him to reimagine the structure and strictures of western
religion and how it judges fallible mortal men, pitting them against each
other, scrapping over trinkets only to earn holes in their hearts. Leone knows
a thing or two about sin, guilt, redemption and the theatre that plays out at
the graveside: "The Dollars Trilogy" is his masterful altar piece.
Damian Flanagan, a researcher in Japanese literature, ponders about Japanese culture as he travels back and forth between Japan and Britain.
* https://mainichi.jp/english/articles/20211015/p2a/00m/0op/035000c
lunedì 27 settembre 2021
Cinema on Screen - Ozu, Kinoshita & Dmytryck
Edward Dmytryk, The Sniper, Nessuno mi salverà, 1952
giovedì 16 settembre 2021
Geisha's lie
A geisha's lie is not
a real lie.
It's a cornerstone of
our profession.
Do we not amuse our
clients by agreeing to all their requests?
La bugia di una geisha non è una vera bugia.
E’ un caposaldo della nostra professione.
Non divertiamo i nostri clienti acconsentendo a tutte le loro
richieste?
martedì 14 settembre 2021
Mizoguchi Kenji set in Gion
MIZOGUCHI Kenji - KOGURE Michiyo - WAKAO Ayako
KOGURE Michiyo - WAKAO Ayako
Mizoguchi Kenji, A Geisha (祇園囃子, Gion Bayashi, La musica di Gion), 1953
Mizoguchi
Kenji 溝口 健二,1898 – 1956
Miyagawa Kauzo 宮川 一夫, 1908 -1999
Kogure Michiyo, 木暮 実千代 1918 -1990
Wakao Ayako, 若尾 文子, 1933










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