confronted with almost caustic bits of realism, such as a ‘thousand-stitch belt’ (senninbari), one of the many that were communally made by civilians and given to servicemen to raise morale, being described as crawling with ‘goddesses of mercy’, apparently a military euphemism for ‘lice’. Ozu was sometimes scornful of the sanitised, reverential tone of other directors’ war films.
The tone of this unmade script seems closer in American terms to Samuel Fuller than John Ford. The two films which were actually made lay stress on self-sacrifice as a virtues in families as much as in servicemen. The tone of The Land of our Parents so Far Away is very different, coarse and almost nihilistic in its militarism, to judge by the song sung at one point, to a traditional tune:
We take a piss from the Great Wall of China And make a rainbow over the Gobi. As the fog clears in London See the koinobori [traditional carp banners] fluttering high! In the streets of Chicago thick with gangsters Raise a memorial stone for our grandchildren to remember us by . . .
Nothing about the glory of the Emperor or the justice of the cause, just global rampage and death-wish.
It’s possible to fantasise a narrative in which Ozu deliberately sabotaged the propaganda film he
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