A fable of pain and grace that knows no boundaries

When consuming classic Japanese cinema, Westerners typically gravitate to the works of Kurosawa or Ozu. But often overlooked is the oeuvre of Kenji Mizoguchi, whose filmography has been reappraised in recent decades and elevated in the eyes of scholars and critics. Perhaps his greatest achievement is Sansho the Bailiff from 1954. Set in feudal Japan, the narrative follows two noble children, Zushio (Yoshiaki Hanayagi) and Anju (Kyoko Kagawa), who are kidnapped and sold into slavery to the cruel bailiff Sansho (Eitaro Shindo); Zushio grows hardened by violence as they come of age while Anju remains devoted to the compassionate teachings of their exiled mother Tamaki (Kinuyo Tanaka).

Celebrated for its emotional gravity, exquisite visual style, and powerful humanism, Sansho the Bailiff has earned its rightful place among the finest works of world cinema.

To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of Sansho the Bailiff, conducted earlier this month, click here.

It’s easy to conclude why this picture is regarded by many as Kenji Mizoguchi’s masterpiece. It features many of his directing hallmarks, including graceful camera motions, carefully orchestrated unbroken sequences, his edict of “one scene, one shot,” and directionality rules (Roger Ebert notes that camera movement from right to left indicates going reverse in time; camera movement from left to right suggests forward motion, while diagonals “move in the direction of their sharpest angle. Upward movement is hopeful, downward ominous. Moving from upper left to lower right, they are descending into an uncompromising future,” Ebert wrote).

Deep Focus Review essayist Brian Eggert particularly admires how the filmmaker “creates an association between the vulnerable and the natural, specifically linking the victims of cruelty, often women, with bodies of water: The family in Sansho the Bailiff is first separated on the Japan Sea; Anju commits suicide by entering a calm pond; Tamaki lives in a hut on the shore, calling out to her children on the sea breeze. Water becomes the metaphor for channeling thought through time and space, for life and death, for Zushio becoming a man like his father, and for the passage of all things. The bodies of water are natural sites in the film, but also vast celestial bodies that consume and need to be consumed. These ideas are symbols of ancient Buddhist storytelling, containing a faith in ever-changing fluidity and elemental transcendence that occurs in both human life and Nature. Every passage of Mizoguchi’s beautifully shot fable addresses the ongoing life of the natural world in relation to the brief moment of human existence—the convergence and destruction of humanity in Nature.”

As disturbing and unpleasant as the story is, the film is profoundly moving and boasts one of the most unforgettable and emotional conclusions in cinema history. Perhaps it’s also autobiographical in some way, as Mizoguchi grew up in a family where his older sister was placed for adoption to a new clan that sold her as a geisha, while his father physically abused the rest of the family.

Considering that the title character is only on screen for around one-third of the movie, why title it “Sansho the Bailiff”? The answer, of course, is that this name is symbolic of the pain and oppression felt by the characters we care about. Sansho is both a feared villain in the story as well as a representation of man’s inhumanity to his fellow man.

The counterpoint to that, and the central thesis of the movie, is that compassion, mercy, and kindness are required traits to be considered a human being. Throughout the film, we are shown how the absence of these qualities leads to suffering, cruelty, and dehumanization. Interestingly, the film begins with the words: “The origin of this story goes back to medieval times, when Japan had not yet emerged from the dark ages, and mankind had yet to awaken as human beings. It has been retold by the people for centuries, and it is treasured today as one of the epic folk tales of history.” Experts suggest that this film, released just a few years after the conclusion of World War II, is a scathing comment on its country’s wartime history, including the insufferable brutalities of Japan’s concentration camps and its soulless militaristic leadership and attitude before and during that armed conflict.

Redemption and forgiveness resonate as other primary themes. Zushio begins the story with his father’s memorized teachings in his heart and on his tongue: “A man is not a human being without mercy. Even if you are hard on yourself, be merciful to others. Men are created equal. Everyone is entitled to their happiness.” But after years of being subjected to bondage and heartlessness, he forgets this wisdom and chooses the opposite path, serving ironically as more of a surrogate son to the inhumane titular character than Sansho’s actual son, Tarō, who defies his father by demonstrating compassion to the slaves. In this phase of his life, Zushio is given a different name: Mutsu-Waka. But after he escapes and is named the Governor of Tango, he is rechristened Masamichi Taira. It is under this name that he executes his most selfless and courageous acts: outlawing slavery and freeing Sansho’s captives. Zushio has undergone two major transitions in character and name on his path to a higher humanity, one that would have made his father proud. But this journey required redeeming himself from the soulless Sansho sycophant that he had become. Eventually finding his estranged mother, he begs her forgiveness, but she says, “What nonsense do you speak of? I don't know what you have done, but I know that you followed your father's teachings. And that is why we have been able to meet again.”

Additionally, Sansho the Bailiff is a masterclass on sacrifice, selflessness, and social injustice. Anju helps her brother escape by remaining behind at the slave camp and distracting the guards. She ultimately elects to drown herself and commit suicide to avoid torture and revealing her brother’s escape plans; Zushio, meanwhile, also engages in sacrifice by risking his well-being and surrendering his governor post after bravely freeing the slaves and arresting Sansho. And Mizoguchi deftly exposes the unfairness of the class system in Japan’s history: how women were subjugated, the unprivileged were exploited and made to suffer, and the elite used their power and wealth to take advantage of others.

Similar works

• Ordet (1955, Carl Theodor Dreyer)
• The Burmese Harp (1956, Kon Ichikawa)
• Harakiri (1962, Masaki Kobayashi)
• Andrei Rublev (1966, Andrei Tarkovsky)
• The Emigrants (1971, Jan Troell)
• The Tree of Wooden Clogs (1978, Ermanno Olmi)
• A Time to Live, A Time to Die (1985, Hou Hsiao-hsien)
• Raise the Red Lantern (1991, Zhang Yimou)
• 12 Years a Slave (2013, Steve McQueen)

Other esteemed films by Mizoguchi

• The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums (1939)
• The Life of Oharu (1952)
• Ugetsu (1953)
• Street of Shame (1956)