Tadanobu Asano’s Most Underrated Film?
Director: Kichitaro Negishi
Cast: Takako Matsu, Tadanobu Asano, Shigeru Muroi, Masatô Ibu, Ryôko Hirosue
Related films: The Little House, Yearning, Osaka Elegy, April Story
Studio: Film-Makers/Fuji Television/Nihon Eiga Satellite
Year: 2009
Verdict: 5.5/6
The overseas traction of Japanese films - such as Villon’s Wife - is often perplexing. How Tokyo: The Last Megalopolis is more known than Pecoross’ Mother and Her Days is beyond reason. Likewise, it’s a travesty that Tadanobu Asano is better known for Ichi the Killer than Villlon’s Wife.
Admittedly, Asano might be outshined by Takako Matsu’s dazzling performance as Villon’s Wife, but their chemistry is a thing of beauty. Based on the novel of the same name by Osamu Dazai, this adaptation is drenched in poetic melancholy, perfectly captured by its two leads.
Adding director Kichitaro Negishi’s stellar cinematography and enveloping atmosphere to the mix, Villon’s Wife ended up one of the more memorable Japanese costume dramas since the turn of the century. Yet, its overseas recognition is virtually absent, something this article attempts to rectify.
Contents:
From Page to Screen | Osamu Dazai’s Villon’s Wife
Osamu Dazai, originally named Shūji Tsushima, is one of Japan's most enigmatic literary figures. He was born into privilege in 1909, but his childhood was marked by emotional distance. His politician father was often away on business, and his mother was frequently ill.
The parental absence aside, Dazai showed signs of an innate, prolific writing talent from an early age. Yet, turmoil brewed beneath his promising exterior. For one, he was profoundly impacted by the suicide of his literary idol, Ryūnosuke Akutagawa, in 1927. This exacerbated his struggles with depression and ignited a pattern of self-destructive behavior.
Dazai's life soon became riddled with a strain of personal crises: he battled alcoholism, developed a penchant for brothels, and endured multiple failed suicide attempts.
His relationships were equally tumultuous. His family disowned him after he eloped with a geisha named Hatsuyo Oyama, while his later marriage to Michiko Ishihara offered only fleeting stability.
In Villon’s Wife (the book), the narrative delves into the fractured world of a woman tethered to an unfaithful and alcoholic husband—a struggling writer who unmistakably reflects Dazai's own turbulent persona. Through the wife's eyes, we witness her quiet strength and resilience amid humiliation and hardship.
Much like the wayward husband in the story, Dazai wrestled with addiction and left a trail of emotional wreckage in his personal relationships. His wife Michiko embodied the silent fortitude of his fictional heroine as she endured much of the turmoil depicted in his writings.
With this in mind, as we transition from the pages of Dazai's narrative to the cinematic adaptation of Villon's Wife, we carry with us an understanding of the profound personal context between the lines.
The film breathes life into the story, offering a visual and emotional resonance that echoes Dazai's writing. It invites us to step into the shadows of his own life, shedding new light on themes that remain as relevant today as they were over half a century ago.
The Corrupting Power of Love | Villon’s Wife Synopsis
Willon’s Wife is set in 1946, one year after the nuclear attacks on Japan, and paints a poignant picture of a nation—and a marriage—in an uphill battle. Otani (Villon) is a dispirited writer wrestling with mental anguish and suicidal tendencies. Though he’s acquired certain esteem for his writings, he steals, lies, and drinks his life away.
Otani is married to Sachi, a 26-year-old and ever-diligent mother who single-handedly raises their two-year-old son while tirelessly reassembling the pieces of their fractured relationship. But then, one day, his self-destructive ways reach a new low point.
Blindsiding Sachi, an elderly couple arrives at their doorstep, accusing Villon of stealing cash from their saloon's register. This leaves her with no choice but to take matters into her own hands. While trying to return the stolen money, she takes a job at the elderly couple’s saloon to pay off Villon's debt.
Her kindness and beauty soon transform the modest establishment into the neighborhood's bustling hotspot. Soon enough, she proves to be an invaluable resource, and for the first time in a long while, Sachi finds joy and a sense of purpose.
When Otani learns about her success, it fuels his inner turmoil, which is topped off with jealousy when he learns that a young patron has become smitten with Sachi. Though she remains faithful, Otani feels threatened and spirals further into despair.
(Spoiler alert)
In a desperate attempt to escape his misery, he reconnects with a devoted female admirer and persuades her to join him in yet another suicide attempt. But things don’t go according to plan when the two of them attempt their “double suicide,” aka Shinjû.
In the aftermath of the suicide attempt, the tension between Sachi and Villon reaches a crescendo. His inner demons clash with her unwavering devotion, and just as he seems to realize the error of his ways, he slips back into old habits.
Yet, in the final scene, Sachi proceeds to confess her love for the “monster” before her. As such, the film leaves us pondering whether redemption is possible or if some shadows are too deep to escape.
(Spoiler end)
Villon’s Wife Analysis | Misery Loves Company
Villon's Wife delves into the fractured world of Sachi, whose quiet resilience and unwavering loyalty might signify a beacon of hope for redemption or understanding in a world marred by personal and societal turmoil.
At its core, the film is a poignant exploration of love, betrayal, and the burdens one bears in the name of loyalty. It's as if Dazai is asking his audience—and perhaps himself—whether salvation is possible amidst the shadows of one's own making.
The narrative doesn't shy away from exposing raw emotions and the complexities of human relationships, reflecting both Dazai's flaws and deeper introspection. It's a thinly veiled confession of his remorse and an acknowledgment of the pain he inflicted on his close ones.
WWII Connotations in Villon’s Wife
Beneath the surface, the film echoes the broader consequences of Japan's fate in World War II. Set against the backdrop of a nation emerging from the ashes, the characters grapple with personal demons and the collective trauma of a society in recovery.
The physical devastation of the war is mirrored in the characters' fractured lives. Economic hardship looms large—the scarcity of resources, the struggle to rebuild livelihoods, and the constant presence of loss create an atmosphere thick with despair.
This historical context amplifies their personal struggles as they navigate a world where traditional structures have crumbled, and uncertainty is the new norm. The war's aftermath isn't just a setting but a silent character influencing every decision and every emotion.
The Crumbling Code of Honor in Post-War Japan
Amidst the ruins, the weight of cultural expectations becomes even more pronounced. During the war, the concept of honor, or giri, had driven individuals to prioritize duty over personal desires—even to the point of self-sacrifice.
This deeply ingrained sense of obligation didn't disappear with the surrender; instead, it lingered, influencing post-war behavior and relationships. In Villon’s Wife, however, we sense the sense of honor crumbling through Sachi’s ambivalence.
Giri represents a moral imperative to fulfill one's duties to others, often at the expense of personal happiness. On the one hand, bound by marital duty, Sachi endures humiliation and hardship to uphold the sanctity of marriage.
On the other hand, as the story is coming to a close, it appears that Sachi's motivations transcend mere obligation. In the film's final scene, her actions suggest a profound, perhaps self-destructive love that binds her to Otani despite his flaws.
Her final words resonate with a poignant acceptance of their imperfect reality: "Being a monster is fine, isn't it? As long as we are still alive, it's just fine."
This declaration signifies that she isn't just acting out of duty but is willingly embracing the entirety of who Otani is—even the monstrous aspects. By gently taking his hand, she stands beside him, acknowledging that their shared existence, however flawed, is preferable to a life apart.
This moment challenges the notion that Sachi is solely driven by giri. Instead, it reveals how love can blur the lines between devotion and self-destruction. Perhaps it explores how deep affection can lead one to accept, even enable, another's destructive tendencies.
Sachi's unconditional love becomes a double-edged sword—her greatest strength and potential downfall. The film suggests that love, in its most profound form, doesn't always lead to salvation; sometimes, it pulls individuals deeper into the very shadows they're trying to escape.
The Art of the Matter
Despite these profound themes, the film never allows them to overshadow the personal tragedies at its heart. Melodramatic, in essence, the interpersonal relations take the driver's seat throughout the narrative.
The emotional gravity between characters creates a compelling tapestry that keeps viewers engaged. Ultimately, it doesn’t resolve much, leaving questions of the human condition, our innate penchant for self-destruction, and redemption in the air.
Approaching the film with an analytical eye, one might ponder why it resonates so deeply. Did it strike a chord despite—or maybe because of—its unresolved complexities? Might the questions be more poignant than the answers, prompting us to take a look in the mirror?
Villon's Wife doesn't offer tidy resolutions or moral certainties. Instead, it invites us to sit with discomfort to acknowledge the imperfect facets of humanity. In doing so, the film reflects life itself: a series of intricate relationships and emotions that defy simple explanations.
Final Verdict | Villon’s Wife Review
Setting aside the heavy undertones, the storytelling in Villon's Wife possesses a remarkably light touch. Not for a moment does the drama feel slow-paced or dragged out; instead, it flows with a poetic rhythm that captivates the viewer from start to finish.
At the heart of the film, the ensemble cast performs with impeccable harmony. Leading the charge is Tadanobu Asano, delivering one of the finest performances of his career as the tormented writer.
Opposite him, Takako Matsu shines brilliantly as his devoted wife, Sachi—a role that earned her the Japanese Academy Award and the Kinema Junpō Award for Best Actress. Their chemistry anchors the film, bringing depth and authenticity to a story steeped in emotional complexity.
That said, as impressive as the ensemble cast and their chemistry are, there isn’t much character development to be found aside from Sachi’s. This lack of depth underscores the focus on states of mind, place, and time rather than personal journeys.
Rest assured, Villon’s Wife is far from static. It captivates with an almost magical atmosphere and impeccable design. The magnificent, dark, and melancholic visuals envelop the audience in a haunting and engrossing atmosphere.
Each frame is meticulously crafted, with excellent set and costume design that transports viewers to post-war Japan. The interplay of light and shadow enhances the mood and mirrors the characters' internal landscapes.
The film doesn't just tell a story; it immerses you in a world where every glance, every gesture, and every silence speaks volumes.
No matter how you look at it, one thing is certain: in both international and Japanese cinema, Villon's Wife is a unique film with a highly distinctive atmosphere. It masterfully blends narrative depth with aesthetic beauty, gleaming with a timeless allure that resonates long after the credits roll.