The last film in Kobayashi's epic trilogy picks up with Kaji (Tatsuya Nakadai) and a couple of his buddies trying to make their way through war-torn Manchuria and back to what they consider home. Their unit has been wiped out and while they're not sure if Japan has formally surrendered, they're well aware the its defeat is imminent. They are in danger from the Soviets who control the region, as well as armed peasant militia groups. They come across scattered Japanese civilians and try to help them as best they can, but struggle because food is incredibly scarce, and tough, no-win choices have to be made. They also come across small Japanese military who are attempting to continue the fight, which they want no part of.
As in the other films, the emotions are heart-wrenching, and this is one of the more powerful anti-war films you'll find. The cinematography is fantastic, the production quality is high, and the pace of the storytelling moves along well enough that the 190-minute runtime didn't feel like a burden, or as overwhelming as it may appear. That in itself is an achievement, considering the somber subject of the film.
Notable points for me:
- The recognition of rape during wartime, and in a broader sense, how vulnerable people like the elderly or farmers are forced to endure great hardship - and this comes from both enemy and friendly forces. The image of the women dumped out of a moving truck after having been raped is brutal.
- The thoughts of some of the characters being revealed in interior monologues. Kaji is haunted by the people he's seen die, the trauma he's endured, and the enemy soldiers he's killed, which he likens to murder. The flashbacks to earlier images are powerful reminders that people can't just walk out of these experiences unchanged. We also get a glimpse into the minds of his comrades, with one man thinking it would have been better had he died an honorable death on the battlefield, and another fearing how it will look for him, a superior to Kaji, being led by him. Even under such duress, the ego and concern about hierarchy spoke volumes about the male mind.
- The irony of ending up in a Soviet work camp, forced to do hard labor with minimal food, bringing the story full circle to when the Japanese had Manchurians in a similar camp in part one. One nation is on top one moment, oppressing another, and then the tide turns. We see this also in the Soviets proudly listening to their national anthem in the work camp, clearly patriotic and with a giant image of Stalin behind the commander, similar to the nationalism in Japan before the war.
- Similarly, the discussion between soldiers that the Soviets will not stay in Manchuria, which will result in a civil war between Chiang Kai-Shek and the communist Chinese under Mao Zedung. There is an implication that war begets war, and the cycle never seems to end.
- The disillusionment in one's ideals - and I don't mean the Japanese soldiers becoming disillusioned over the 'divine' Emperor's militarism, since that was present from the beginning of the story (though a younger soldier does go through an arc in that regard). I mean Kaji's communist sympathies getting a reality check when he finds that his Soviet captors have a "smug and selfish" attitude about them, which his friend chalks up to them taking a "Soviet-first policy," in stark contrast to communism's ideal of the worldwide proletarian.
- The attempts at communicating with the Soviet officers reflect this disillusionment, and also show how things lost in translation prevent communication. Kaji is at the mercy of a bad translator, and can't express the simple needs of his men or his personal views. Ironically, he's labeled a fascist by the Soviets, which is completely at odds with his beliefs.
- Life is broken down into its most elemental form, the need to eat, and will to survive. We see people desperate from hunger from the beginning of this film all the way through to the end. Pushed to extreme conditions, people become selfish, and sadly, empathy is scarce. Kaji tries to navigate these waters as best he can, treating people with dignity and holding on to his ideals, but there are limits to everything. One of the Japanese soldiers has become a collaborator to the Soviets, overseeing the prisoners like a kapo would for the Nazis, and contributes to the death of one of his friends. Kaji shows him no mercy as he beats him to death with a chain, and while there is something cathartic about that moment, it's such a contrast to the man we saw at the beginning of the first film - and sad to me that I felt myself urging him on.
- The ending, my god. Kaji tries to run away from the senseless violence of the world, realizing ideologies turn into fuel for warfare and oppression, and wants simply to return to the only thing that makes any sense in life - love - which is something that struck me at my very heart. With surreal imagery, Kobayashi gives us an ending that is extraordinary and indelible. He wanted it to be. The only way to avoid the cycle of war from repeating is to learn from the past, and that's what his trilogy is about.
