Hausu (1977)

Directed by Nobuhiko Ōbayashi

I come from a superstitious Southern family. I remember my grandma Ona just about fainting anytime one of us kids put a dining chair on one leg — she thought for sure that we were doomed to bad luck for the rest of our days. I still don’t really understand that one. My mother absolutely adored cats, however, if a black cat crossed her path while she was driving, she would mark an X on the left side of the windshield with her right hand. This was to ward off any bad luck or evil that said cat portended. I find myself compelled to perform the same action to this day even though I’m more apt to think that a black cat (or any cat for that matter) sighting is a good thing.

Our notion that cats are evil or at least supernatural goes way back. Christians in the Middle Ages thought that cats were agents of Satan, witches in disguise, or just plain evil. In Japanese folklore, the shape-shifting ghost/monster cat is called Bakeneko. The mythological Bakeneko are yōkai, or supernatural creatures, that allegedly begin as regular domestic cats. As they age, they become able to transform themselves into other shapes (including human) and gain supernatural powers. 

Cat as consort to witches/evil is one of my favorite movie tropes. There’s the villain Blofeld’s white Persian lap cat in the 007 flick From Russia With Love, or Mr. Bigglesworth the hairless companion of Dr. Evil in Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me, or MAD cat the evil companion of Dr. Claw in one of my favorite cartoons of childhood, Inspector Gadget. Blanche the white cat from Hausu is a top-notch over-the-top offering in the category. The first hint that this friendly fluffy feline is something other comes as a little twinkle in the cat’s eye when the troop of teenage girls arrive at auntie’s diabolical house in the country. Before long, this freaky fuzz-ball transforms into a full-fledged Bakeneko. At the wacky climax of the screwball horror film a painted portrait of our feline friend sprouts fangs and begins spewing copious amounts of blood out of its wide-open mouth in true slasher style. At this point, it’s too late for an X on the windshield!

Onibaba (1964)

Directed by Kaneto Shindō

I'm not a demon! I'm a human being!

As summer gave way to autumn here in Northern New Mexico, I began taking long walks upon the mesa where I live. There are many varieties of grasses that grow here, and I often stopped to admire their golden color in the low afternoon sunlight. As the season progressed, I began collecting grass seed to bring back to my yard in hopes of a future moment when I might look out my window to watch the blades of grass swaying in the wind.

It’s this swaying of blades of grass filmed in black and white and accompanied by a wild roiling mid-century jazz track that set the stage in the opening sequence of Onibaba. The entire film is set in a thick claustrophobic prairie of susuki grass which is much like pampas grass and grows to an average height of seven feet. The characters live in grass huts surrounded by grass that cuts off the view of everything outside of the grass. The environment dominates and it is beautiful and unrelenting at the same time.

It reminds me of another great Japanese film that also came out in 1964; Woman in the Dunes directed by Hiroshi Teshigahara. In this film the environment, sand rather than grass, also provides a constantly shifting setting. Both are endless and serve as an illustration of the temporality of human existence – they were there before and will be there after this messy human drama unfolds and will cover over everything. This existential dread is the beating heart of each film and is certainly something that I think about often as I make a home for myself in the wilderness.

Touki Bouki (1973)

Directed by Djibril Diop Mambéty

Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment.
chagrin d'amour dure toute la vie.

The joys of love are but a moment long
The pain of love endures the whole life long

I’m back!!! The 1973 Senegalese film Touki Bouki seems like a good reentry point. This film has been on my watch list for some time and when it came to the Center for Contemporary Arts in Santa Fe where I recently started working, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see it on the big screen. I really know nothing about African film let along African politics, so I’ll leave that angle alone and focus on a couple of things, out of many, that caught my attention while watching.

This film had been described as “sonic soup” and indeed the soundtrack seems, much to my delight, at times to exist autonomously from the visual. What we hear directs us as much as what we see on the screen and sometimes it directs us to places of confusion. There are many sounds, like a baby crying, that invade a scene from off screen and leave one wondering at the significance. There are also sounds, like crashing ocean waves, that comingle with and epically describe the visual that is only hinted at on screen. And … there is plenty of music. Like Mambéty’s use of Josephine Baker’s “Paris, Paris” for instance, which eloquently illustrates the two young lovers’ desire to leave Dakar for the glamour and opportunity of Paris.

Along these lines, I was particularly struck by Mado Robin singing Johann Martini's song “Plaisir d’amour” or “Pleasure of Love” – a classical French love song from the eighteenth century. Translated lyrics of this song appear on the screen as subtitles and go something like, “The pleasure of love lasts only a moment, the grief of love lasts a lifetime.” The lines from this two-hundred-year-old song seem not only to foreshadow the outcome of Mory and Anta’s love affair but also to dig at something a little deeper. Falling in love requires optimism. To lose oneself in the possibilities presented by love might lead one ultimately to deny or ignore the certain temporality of life. Mory and Anta are in love with the fantasy of Paris. They play dress-up and fantasize about the power of wealth. They are focused on what the Paris of their dreams can offer them and they ignore the possibility of struggle and hardship that would likely befall them as immigrants in a foreign and inhospitable land.

As I was looking for more information on “Plaisir d’amour” I came across some interesting videos – a very young and angelic Marianne Faithfull for one. I also discovered the Elvis Presley song “Can’t Help Falling in Love” uses the same melody. From there, I just had to watch my favorite Elvis video – one of his final performances where he belts out “Unchained Melody” with so much raw emotion and power. I love when he looks out at the audience and a lovely grin spreads across his face that lights it up with the spirit of youth. Watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=efg4l3brInU