
Advertisement
Advertisement
Something moves in the grass in Kaneto Shindo’s Onibaba. Made in 1964, it was the first of Shindo’s films to depict sex, a topic he would return to again and again. And sex prevails in Onibaba, where a war in 14th century Japan has left two women without men living in a hut in the middle of vast fields of long susuki grass. To survive, they kill soldiers who stray into the grass and sell their armor for bags of millet to a hawker named Ushi who seems to be ripping them off.Ushi’s lair provides a counterpoint to what they call “the Hole,” a pit hidden in the long grass where the two ladies (they are never named) drop most of the bodies. “Deep and dark,” we are told, “its darkness has lasted since ancient times.” The first shot of the film is a long tilt that starts with the wind moving in the fields and ends on the image of the Hole. To interpret it too symbolically (these women are literally killing men with their vaginas) would be overly simplistic, but the spirit of the Hole and its darkness certainly provides a counterpoint to sexual desire.
Advertisement
The interesting thing about watching 50-year-old films is to see how they age. Perhaps, in the long-term view of film history—say, 200 years or more from now—people won’t be as concerned with how a film does at the box office, so much with how it ages and stays relevant to audiences over time.
Advertisement
The first image is that of a female warrior sculpture holding a sword and shield, before giving way to a vast field of tall grass, lithely dancing to the wind’s heavy breathing. The field is powerful and its presence is the strongest character, creating a sense of entrapment and restlessness. Among the beautiful field lies darkness in the shape of a deep hole in the ground: “Its darkness has lasted since ancient times.” I appreciated the function of history in the film, from the mythological goddess sculpture at the beginning to the primordial field and the archaic darkness that lies within the mysterious orifice. The film overflows with symbolism, eroticism, superstition, and allegories.The mood throughout reminded me of a melodramatic noir film with its black tones highlighted by sharp white spotlights. The way the light hits the women’s faces accentuates sweat and pores and reveals the humid and moist environment. The focus on their heavily lined eyes emits fierceness; the light hits them the way lightning strikes during a thunderstorm. They are the all Seeing Eye, the female eye.The music in the film is essential, heavy on percussion and drumming, with every sound felt and heard with equality: the sound of the wind caressing the grass blades, the birds chanting their messages to the earth, the ravens on tree branches, the tedious dragging of heavy corpses as they brush against the lush earth, and the heavy breathing released while racing through the reeds at night time.I also found Shindo’s approach to the idea of demons compelling. The demon mask conceals beauty and goodness in such a way that the mask transforms physically and also metaphorically. It leads to darkness and madness. The human becomes a demon, which is itself an allegory of war: “You become a demon, you stay that way.”