Oshima Nagisa est reconnu comme l'un des principaux cinéastes japonais contemporains. L'Empire des sens a connu un grand retentissement, prévu sans doute par les cinéphiles qui connaissaient déjà l'auteur, notamment par La Pendaison et La Cérémonie. Ce livre, qui recueille des articles de tons très différents – de la théorie cinématographique à l'autobiographie – permettra à ceux qui apprécient déjà Oshima de mieux le connaître, et à ceux qui en ont simplement «entendu parler» de le découvrir. Le cinéaste s'y livre tout entier, avec ses désirs et ses échecs, ses conceptions et ses rêves. Il nous apprend avec simplicité son cheminement, ses débuts difficiles de cinéaste dans un monde où la recherche semble mal vue, l'exigence déplacée. Il secoue l'appareil du cinéma japonais traditionnel, prend les critiques à partie, vitupère ou loue ses confrères. Polémiste? Certes, mais aussi davantage : on découvre – ce qui est rare – un homme aussi exigeant pour lui-même que pour les autres, capable de s'analyser et d'avouer ses défauts, ses lacunes. À lui seul, il a de l'ambition pour le cinéma tout entier, dont la plus haute fonction n'est pas, selon lui, de décrire la réalité mais de pressentir l'avenir. Visionnaire? Sans doute : n'est-ce pas la qualité suprême de l'artiste?
When I was living in Japan in 1989/1990 I was kind of shocked to see the film rebel on Japanese TV as someone advising housewives on their love affairs, and on other mainstream talk shows. It seems like he became a professional TV guest. Sort of reminds me of Orson Welles during the 70's when he just showed up on talk shows to chat ... for no purpose.
But Oshima is very much an original and fascinating film maker. Almost on the side of the Avant-Garde but still on the side of the narrative film. This book is a collection of essays about the nature of film and his own work in that field as well. This is a beautifully designed (very important to me!) collection of essays. Oshima is a very good and clear thinking writer.
As an historical document, this is an important set of essays. It did demonstrate to me that Oshima's suspicion of film theorists is unfounded, and he would have benefitted from a more rigorous and sustained engagement with theoretical discussions. Perhaps this would have allowed him to understand the concepts of shame or political commitment with greater nuance. Oshima does baldly state that he believes crime arises from men being unable to satisfy their desires, thus justifying serial sexual crimes. It's not a very convincing argument. At other moments, Oshima reads like a discount Sartre, proclaiming the necessity for man to understand his situation. I believe with hindsight readers of these essays can understand Oshima's situation better than he did.
“History’s last judgement will be a court of love that embraces not only the human species but all living things. I believe that when this final judgment comes—as it one day will—it will seat us on clouds of light, crown us with flowers, and lead to the heights of heaven.”
Nagisa Oshima’s spirit is one that I carry with me in my work. Aside from directing one of history’s most beautiful films, “In the Realm of the Senses,” it’s his defiance against censorship and oppression and how that translates to the medium of cinema that I wish to aspire to.
People today frequently speak about freedom or liberation, but what does that look like? This notion is often tied to a position that remains in the imaginary. However, for Oshima, it is a mindset that locates oneself structurally, from which other actions follow.
In this collection of writings, Oshima describes his experiences of defiance, from the filmmaking process to the courtroom, standing his ground despite everything.
Two things stuck with me: the question of obscenity and the reflections on Mishima Yukio. As we watch the world replicate itself with a horrifyingly repetitive nature to the 1930s, we find an exciting parallax in the questions of sex, power and fascism. It is all too often on the question of sexuality that we return to the tiresome Western dichotomy of Victorian prudence against the cliches of libertine hippies that cannot escape neoliberalism’s model of consumption. The lens of Oshima, I suggest, offers a parallax view that is worthy of our study.
As a film maker, Oshima is very much in control. In his first color film, as he mentions in an essay in this volume, he banishes the color green, so that the viewer can never rest her eyes.
As a writer, Oshima often bats you around like a ball of yarn, which can provide a thrill, and then drops you off somewhere when he tires of it. This is unfair, I guess, since he's also working within the meandering mode of a great essay tradition. Still: look to this volume as an entry point to some of Oshima's (often very fascinating) brainstorms. Then watch "Death By Hanging."