This review may contain spoilers
"La tristesse durera toujours"
Toshio Ōki (Sō Yamamura, in an absolutely well-placed part), an established middle-aged writer, husband and father, travels to Kyoto in the days leading up to New Year’s Eve; In his thoughts always returns Otoko (Kaoru Yachigusa, perfectly at ease in the role), his former lover from decades earlier, who at the time, when the girl was barely 16, had also given him a daughter, who died soon after her birth...
From this experience, Ōki wrote a deeply autobiographical book ("The Sixteen-Year-Old Girl", the title quoted in the novel) that became a bestseller.
After being abandoned by Ōki (who has returned to the family fold), Otoko is now an accomplished painter and lives in the company of the young and perturbing Keiko (Mariko Kaga, stunning), her pupil and lover; Keiko, as beautiful as well as enigmatic, is obsessed with “bringing justice” to her partner, engaging in a destructive game of massacre that will not spare even Ōki's son Taichiro…
Beauty and Sadness ("Utsukushisa to Kanashimi to", 1964) is one of the most significant novels by Yasunari Kawabata, the great Japanese master who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1968; His compositional style, poetic lyricism and the themes expressed in his works are ineluctably interwoven with Japanese culture and tradition, but also with that profound and complex sense of universal melancholy that afflicts -inesorably- the human soul, especially in the face of the passing of time and, therefore, of life itself ...
The material available in the novel offers so many insights that it would be perfect for a film adaptation.
Due to the immediate public success of the book, the Shōchiku film company cleverly decided to produce an adaptation for the big screen, relying on the skilful flair of Masahiro Shinoda, one of the most representative names at the disposal of the company founded in Tokyo.
Shinoda (born in 1931, died in early 2025) had joined Shōchiku in 1953, at a very young age and, like so many of his colleagues, had gone through a several-year apprenticeship as assistant director for many prestigious colleagues (Ozu too, among others) and, finally, in 1960 he made his debut as a film director, immediately distinguishing himself thanks to a non-conformist style, detached from the cultural movements that engaged his more “politicised” colleagues (Oshima etc.).
Eager to change the basic language, as well as the content and themes, Shinoda had started a productive collaboration with both Shuji Terayama, great author, poet, playwright, director and a thousand other things, and also with avant-garde composer Toru Takemitsu, deconstructing cinematic materials, especially in Yakuza and Crime Movies such as “My Face Red in the Sunset” (which seems to anticipate certain Seijun Suzuki-esque mockery and experimentation) and, most of all in the beautiful "Pale Flower”.
To use the words of Chris D. in his immense essay “Outlaw Masters Of Japanese Film”, Shinoda revealed an almost pictorial style in the composition of the images, managing to miraculously merge music with imagery, lights and camera work, resulting in a rigorous style and realisation…
With these assumptions, in the skilful hands of the Gifu-born director, Kawabata's novel comes to life, converting the pages of the book into images and perfectly reproducing the sensual and aestheticising world of the work of the same name, without, however, giving in to perhaps easier sensationalism (as in Masumura's “Manji” of the same time, nudity is extremely limited here).
We are in the presence of a multifaceted and complex love story involving all the tormented characters portrayed and where all the most significant themes of the novel find expression; The past that suddenly resurfaces, suffering and regret (because “Love is a wound that never heals...”), sense of guilt, but also desire, obsession and, of course, love itself (also in its predominant homosexual aspect).
All these elements are highlighted by Shinoda with an extremely geometric style, elegant in its attention to detail and in the search for atmosphere; A style capable of alternating very close-ups with long shots, as well as crab shots and the use of refined long takes; Those in Otoko's house are beautiful, with the two women/lovers confronting each other.
Refined visual aesthetics and a great display of technique even in static shots, almost with a cinematographic cut à la Ozu; Shinoda also fills the scenes with mirrors, somewhat in the manner of Orson Welles, almost as if to reiterate, in metaphorical form, the complexity of reality, truth and the shattering of the identities represented, particularly in the multifaceted nature of Keiko.
Thanks also to the perfect use of colours and beautiful locations, the clever temporal fragmentation - excellent flashbacks alternating past and present - the contribution of the music - and introspective silences - and the use of elliptical editing, the essence of the original text, as well as much of the dialogue, is well represented, especially in the last segment, which diligently avoids risky didactic cascades, restoring all the pathos and relative emotional tension of the book's dramatic crescendo.
The choice of the cast, perfectly assembled, is a very satisfying decision; The idea of making Keiko the fulcrum of the story is interesting, thanks also to the remarkable attractiveness of Mariko Kaga (already the protagonist in ‘Pale Flower’ who, moreover, with those eyes, would make anyone vacillate!). Especially in the sequences with Otoko, Keiko is remarkable in amplifying her obsessions and her mad love for her teacher, at times disturbing in her iron will to achieve her purposes;
Almost as a counterpart, Otoko interiorises her own suffering and her painful wounds, trying to find a reason for being in the realisation of the painting (“The Child's Ascension” is the highlighted title in the novel) which, in a cathartic way, should help her overcome the events she has experienced over the years, as well as the “beauty and sadness” of her unfortunate love for Ōki.
Ōki, played by Sō Yamamura, (the same age as his character in the novel at the time) especially in the first section, is well centred and conveys the anxieties and existential condition required by the role, tormented by remorse.
Perfectly functional Yamamoto Kei, in the role of Taichiro and Watanabe Misako, in that of Fumiko, Ōki's wife, torn by grief and resentment…
As a curiosity, the film was distributed in Italy with a decidedly distorted title, ‘L'Amaro Giardino di Lesbo’, something like ‘The Bitter Garden of Lesbo’, too explicit and moreover misleading in its contents; An opera perhaps not to everyone's taste, also due to a certain coldness or contemplative “slowness”, ‘With Beauty and Sorrow’ proves perfectly capable of honouring its magnificent source (the novel is absolutely essential) in an intense and refined manner, subtly cutting as well as painfully beautiful... and sad.
8 ½
From this experience, Ōki wrote a deeply autobiographical book ("The Sixteen-Year-Old Girl", the title quoted in the novel) that became a bestseller.
After being abandoned by Ōki (who has returned to the family fold), Otoko is now an accomplished painter and lives in the company of the young and perturbing Keiko (Mariko Kaga, stunning), her pupil and lover; Keiko, as beautiful as well as enigmatic, is obsessed with “bringing justice” to her partner, engaging in a destructive game of massacre that will not spare even Ōki's son Taichiro…
Beauty and Sadness ("Utsukushisa to Kanashimi to", 1964) is one of the most significant novels by Yasunari Kawabata, the great Japanese master who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1968; His compositional style, poetic lyricism and the themes expressed in his works are ineluctably interwoven with Japanese culture and tradition, but also with that profound and complex sense of universal melancholy that afflicts -inesorably- the human soul, especially in the face of the passing of time and, therefore, of life itself ...
The material available in the novel offers so many insights that it would be perfect for a film adaptation.
Due to the immediate public success of the book, the Shōchiku film company cleverly decided to produce an adaptation for the big screen, relying on the skilful flair of Masahiro Shinoda, one of the most representative names at the disposal of the company founded in Tokyo.
Shinoda (born in 1931, died in early 2025) had joined Shōchiku in 1953, at a very young age and, like so many of his colleagues, had gone through a several-year apprenticeship as assistant director for many prestigious colleagues (Ozu too, among others) and, finally, in 1960 he made his debut as a film director, immediately distinguishing himself thanks to a non-conformist style, detached from the cultural movements that engaged his more “politicised” colleagues (Oshima etc.).
Eager to change the basic language, as well as the content and themes, Shinoda had started a productive collaboration with both Shuji Terayama, great author, poet, playwright, director and a thousand other things, and also with avant-garde composer Toru Takemitsu, deconstructing cinematic materials, especially in Yakuza and Crime Movies such as “My Face Red in the Sunset” (which seems to anticipate certain Seijun Suzuki-esque mockery and experimentation) and, most of all in the beautiful "Pale Flower”.
To use the words of Chris D. in his immense essay “Outlaw Masters Of Japanese Film”, Shinoda revealed an almost pictorial style in the composition of the images, managing to miraculously merge music with imagery, lights and camera work, resulting in a rigorous style and realisation…
With these assumptions, in the skilful hands of the Gifu-born director, Kawabata's novel comes to life, converting the pages of the book into images and perfectly reproducing the sensual and aestheticising world of the work of the same name, without, however, giving in to perhaps easier sensationalism (as in Masumura's “Manji” of the same time, nudity is extremely limited here).
We are in the presence of a multifaceted and complex love story involving all the tormented characters portrayed and where all the most significant themes of the novel find expression; The past that suddenly resurfaces, suffering and regret (because “Love is a wound that never heals...”), sense of guilt, but also desire, obsession and, of course, love itself (also in its predominant homosexual aspect).
All these elements are highlighted by Shinoda with an extremely geometric style, elegant in its attention to detail and in the search for atmosphere; A style capable of alternating very close-ups with long shots, as well as crab shots and the use of refined long takes; Those in Otoko's house are beautiful, with the two women/lovers confronting each other.
Refined visual aesthetics and a great display of technique even in static shots, almost with a cinematographic cut à la Ozu; Shinoda also fills the scenes with mirrors, somewhat in the manner of Orson Welles, almost as if to reiterate, in metaphorical form, the complexity of reality, truth and the shattering of the identities represented, particularly in the multifaceted nature of Keiko.
Thanks also to the perfect use of colours and beautiful locations, the clever temporal fragmentation - excellent flashbacks alternating past and present - the contribution of the music - and introspective silences - and the use of elliptical editing, the essence of the original text, as well as much of the dialogue, is well represented, especially in the last segment, which diligently avoids risky didactic cascades, restoring all the pathos and relative emotional tension of the book's dramatic crescendo.
The choice of the cast, perfectly assembled, is a very satisfying decision; The idea of making Keiko the fulcrum of the story is interesting, thanks also to the remarkable attractiveness of Mariko Kaga (already the protagonist in ‘Pale Flower’ who, moreover, with those eyes, would make anyone vacillate!). Especially in the sequences with Otoko, Keiko is remarkable in amplifying her obsessions and her mad love for her teacher, at times disturbing in her iron will to achieve her purposes;
Almost as a counterpart, Otoko interiorises her own suffering and her painful wounds, trying to find a reason for being in the realisation of the painting (“The Child's Ascension” is the highlighted title in the novel) which, in a cathartic way, should help her overcome the events she has experienced over the years, as well as the “beauty and sadness” of her unfortunate love for Ōki.
Ōki, played by Sō Yamamura, (the same age as his character in the novel at the time) especially in the first section, is well centred and conveys the anxieties and existential condition required by the role, tormented by remorse.
Perfectly functional Yamamoto Kei, in the role of Taichiro and Watanabe Misako, in that of Fumiko, Ōki's wife, torn by grief and resentment…
As a curiosity, the film was distributed in Italy with a decidedly distorted title, ‘L'Amaro Giardino di Lesbo’, something like ‘The Bitter Garden of Lesbo’, too explicit and moreover misleading in its contents; An opera perhaps not to everyone's taste, also due to a certain coldness or contemplative “slowness”, ‘With Beauty and Sorrow’ proves perfectly capable of honouring its magnificent source (the novel is absolutely essential) in an intense and refined manner, subtly cutting as well as painfully beautiful... and sad.
8 ½
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