AS A WIFE, AS A WOMAN (aka “Poignant Story”)

[4.3]

Remarkable melodrama by Mikio Naruse about the troubles of a professor’s mistress, depicted in the beautiful colors and wide screen of TohoScope.  Naruse’s muse Hideko Takamine gives another incredible performance as seemingly tough, independent bar hostess Miho, who has been having an affair for fifteen years with the bar’s owner, university professor Hiroko. We first meet her at a Ginza bar, as she is having tea with Hiroko’s elegant wife, Ayako. Ayako is telling her how she will install an air conditioner in her new bar in Shinjuku, but as she leaves, Hiroko looks on with a mix of shame and sadness. This expression is puzzling until the following scene, where Miho complains to her barman that its unfair that the bar owner, Ayako, is putting up money to fix up the new bar, while Hiroko has to spend her own funds to keep the old Ginza bar in shape. It is only now that we learn that Hiroko is the mama-san of this bar, which explains her strange hurt expression in the previous scene. When Hiroko shows up and finds that Miho is installing an air conditioner with her own money, he scolds her lightly, but then tells her to meet him at a hotel later. Aha! They are having an affair. Naruse’s story continues on like this, with interactions that become clearer as time progresses. He isn’t concerned with introducing relationships and situations immediately, but has them play out and reveal themselves for maximum dramatic effect. 

Later, Ayako meets with a young woman who she wants to hire to run the new Shinjuku bar, but she also asks her to keep spying on Miho for her.  Miho meets up with Hiroko at a hotel, but just before they enter their room, they run into two teens, who stare at Hiroko with shock, before saying hi and retreating to their rooms. It’s Hiroko’s students.  Naruse cuts back and forth from the students giddily gossiping about what their professor is up to (and trying to find a hole in the wall to sneak a peak) and Hiroko uncomfortably brushing off Miho’s affection in their room. Miho accuses Hiroko of being embarrassed by her, and he confesses that yes, that’s true. Miho gets teary-eyed and says they need to end things, that after so many years of being his mistress, she has gotten nothing out of their relationship.  The cruel juxtaposition of the students’ gleeful party with the emotional breakdown next door really amplifies the scene, and makes Hiroko’s embarrassment seem even more pathetic.  

At a nightclub, Miho gets drunk and tries hitting on a customer, Minami, with the other barmaids egging her on. Suddenly she turns to one and tells her she needs to leave. Miho nows that she is a spy for Ayako. As the woman tries to protest, Miho throws her drink at her. Miho gets more drunk and after some hesitation, follows Minami home, but as she stands at the threshold of his apartment, she pauses, notes that it looks exactly as she imagined, that it seems like she’s been there twenty times before, and she quickly turns and runs off. She meets with a group of mistresses, and as they sit around the table drinking, she asks for their advice. She wants to leave Hiroko, and she wants the bar as payment for her years of service to him, but the bar is under Ayako’s name. The girls chide her for spending her own money on the place even though she had no stake in it, and they tell her she will surely get fired once she breaks up with Hiroko. They tell her she needs to confront Ayako and demand either custody of the bar or 3 million yen as payment.  Miho works up the courage and meets with Ayako, but before she can make her case, Ayako stares her down. “If we are going to speak frankly, then you should know that I don’t like you” Ayako tells her. She says she will listen to what Miho says, but Miho is not to bring up a certain subject, or she will simply walk out. Though intimidated, Miho summons enough courage to tell Ayako her demands, and if they aren’t met, she will sue her. Ayako tells Miho she doesn’t care if word of the affair gets out. She won’t submit to her demands. She’ll take pity on her and offer her 200,000 yen, but she’ll have to quit the bar immediately. Miho refuses and Ayako walks out. We then flashback to the war, and learn that Miho has become pregnant by Hiroko, and given up her children to Ayako. In present day, Miho meets with her grandmother, who is shocked at the paltry amount that Ayako offered Miho after all these years, and tells Miho she should ask for her children back. Miho is hurt by this, as we flashback and learn that it is the grandmother who insisted Miho give up her children, as the children would suffer being born to a single-mother.  Miho then finds Ayako’s son on the street with his friends, and invites them out for drinks. But when she has him alone, Miho’s friend blurts out that Miho isn’t simply the boy’s parent’s employee, but his true mother. The boy returns home and tells his parents he knows the truth, and then lets his sister know that she too is an adopted child.  Miho arrives and beings arguing with Ayako, and when they look to Hiroko, he says he doesn’t know what to do. The children emerge and the daughter tells Ayako she hates her, she hates her cowardly father, and she hates Miho even more. The film ends with Miho packing up the Ginza bar, which as been sold off. Then, in what seems like a strangely tacked-on ‘happy ending’, we see the daughter and son, who have been living alone now, and the son decides to go back home to his parents, where he will study hard so that he can go to university and leave them. He then smiles, throws his bag in the air, and we cut out at this joyous moment. 

Like the best of Douglas Sirk, this movie gushes with pent up emotions, unrevealed secrets, and complicated characters.  The bright, saturated colors imbue the story with a rich flavor, contrasting with the gray tone of the situations. While Ozu’s characters perform their roles with rigidity and solemnity, Naruse electrifies the screen with performances that cling to the facade of Japanese decorum, with blinding rays of passion breaking through the cracks.  Over and over again, interactions are superficially even-toned, but the true stakes are readily apparent. One of the most striking examples is when Miho shows up at Ayako’s house after the son has revealed to Ayako that he knows she is not his mother. Ayako is clearly furious that Miho has shown up, has revealed the dark secret, and would undoubtedly like to throw her out of the house.  But Miho, frozen by convention, says nothing, but gives the slightest nod of greeting to Ayako. As if she has no other alternative to this ‘politeness’, Ayako pauses and then returns the gesture, but her dagger eyes tell a different story.  While all of the performers are good, this is Takamine’s show for sure. From her very first scene, in which her downcast eyes belie her anger and disappointment in Ayako’s treatment of her, Takamine proves herself to be a master of balancing the seen and unseen emotions.  While the story checks all the boxes of a soap opera, it manages to tear at our heartstrings with true artistry. One of the finest of melodramas.

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