PIGS AND BATTLESHIPS

(A.k.a. BUTA TO GUNKAN)

In the portal town of Yokosuka, the lower classes of Japan’s society depend on the business of the incoming American sailors. Whenever a battleship arrives in their port, local wannabe gangster Kinta (Hiroyuki Nagato) knows he’s sure to be able to lure some horny seamen to the nearby sweatshop where his young lover Haruko (Jitsuko Yoshimura) works – which acts as a front for a brothel working out the back.

We follow him through the neon-lit tacky Americana of Yokosuka’s seedy streets one evening, as he guides one wayward sailor to the brothel – only for it to be raided by Shore Patrol moments later. Despite pointing out that some of them are regular customers, several of the punters are arrested and taken to prison.

Kinta’s not too concerned, as he has bigger plans: he’s managed to seal a deal with a Japanese-American acquaintance that promises to put him at the top of the illegal pork trade (big business at the time). "I’m going to be a big shot!" he tells Haruko, believing his business transaction will elevate him in the eyes of his yakuza boss Himori (Masao Mishima).

Essentially, he’s tasked with the job of overseeing a pig pen on the American naval base. In this position, it’s thought that he can redirect pork on to the black market to make a hefty profit for his gang.

Haruko is opposed to Kinta’s affiliations with the local mob, and wants him to settle down into a nice factory job. Having witnessed the slumber that sets in to his own father following his dismissal from such a job, Kinta is not about to follow that route. Anyway, how can his missus talk – she makes money on the side as a prostitute!

And so, the likeable Kinta – who’s perhaps a little too easy-going for his own good – throws himself into his newly assigned role for Himori. This at least affords director Shohei Imamura ample opportunity to serve visual metaphors for American soldiers being pigs ...

Orchestral music more akin to Western flag-waving is not the only aspect of the film that alludes to an American influence. From the casinos glowing in the opening shots, to Kinta’s fascination with modern American culture – Imamura shows a post-war Japan that has become obsessed with the world’s most arrogant nation. And the result is one cynical, bitter film.

It’s also alarmingly violent for its time (1961), offering several beatings – an early one incorporates head-butts and a real good kicking – further recalling its Western cousins in terms of exploitative style.

PIGS AND BATTLESHIPS is, however, also very brilliant. Ironically, it shows a clear influence upon American cinema that has followed in its wake. Most notably, the films of Martin Scorsese. There’s no way old Marty hasn’t seen and registered the early tracking shots through the bustling streets of Yokosuka: it’s an effect he’s employed several times himself.

Performances throughout the film are spot on, particularly from the two young leads. Theirs is a troubled story, made all the more engaging by their naivety – and they convince so thoroughly that you truly want only the best for both of them.

The monochrome cinematography of Shinsaku Himeda is quite often amazing, and the editing is supremely considered: in fact, on a technical level alone, PIGS AND BATTLESHIPS is pretty close to being flawless. It almost matches this impressive stature in terms of storytelling too.

A great climax brings us back to where the story began, with chaos on the street (and pigs, lots of them) that is at once gripping, hilarious and surreal. It’s a fantastic denouement to a hugely enjoyable film.

Often abridged in previous releases on both sides of the pond, this Masters of Cinema release from Eureka fully restores the film to its complete, 108-minute running time. It flows so well that it’s nigh on impossible to imagine how it must’ve played with half an hour or so cropped from it.

The film is presented in its original 2.35:1 aspect ratio and is enhanced for 16x9 television sets. Given the benefit of a new 1080p High Definition transfer from the original camera negative, the MPEG4 AVC file boasts fine contrast, a nice range of stable shades and a fine layer of natural grain throughout. DNR isn’t an overbearing concern and, while the age of the film stock dictates that a mild softness is evident throughout, the overall depth and detail of its look is extremely pleasing.

Japanese audio is provided in DTS-HD Master 2.0 audio. It’s a terrifically well-balanced and clean proposition. Optional English subtitles are well-written and easy to read.

Also included in this set is Imamura’s 1958 directorial debut, STOLEN DESIRE (a.k.a. NUSUMARETA YOKUJO).

In it, Shinici (Hiroyuki Nagato again) is the director of a troupe of travelling performers. They tend to open their act with a striptease dance, but find little audience interest beyond that.

The real story though, more so than finding out whether this shambolic circus of drama will find success, is the love Shinici is harbouring for one of his cast. Unfortunately for him, she’s married to one of the other performers ...

STOLEN DESIRE is, again, immaculately prepared in terms of its visuals. But it’s a curio, a matter of interest for Imamura obsessives, as opposed to a film of any real entertainment value. Still, due to its scarcity and the fact that this is the first time it’s been released with subtitles in the West, it’s a thrilling supplement regardless.

Again, the film comes presented in 1080p and is displayed in its original 2.35:1 ratio, enhanced for 16x9 televisions. The image is a tad softer and occasionally scarred by age here, but it’s still very good overall.

Japanese Master mono audio is excellent, as are the optional English subtitles.

A static main menu page allows access to both films. Each film has its own pop-up scene-selection menu: BATTLESHIPS takes in 19 chapters; DESIRE has 14 chapters.

Although the films are defaulted to play with the aforementioned English subtitles, these can be removed if need be, by selecting the "Play without subtitles" option on the main menu page.

Understandably, given the amount of content crammed onto these discs, the only extra in this set is an excellent 36-page booklet filled with rewarding black-and-white photographs, and notes on both films by Tony Rayns.

This is a brilliant package, worth it for the main feature alone. It looks superb, and the fact that you get Imamura’s rarely seen debut feature too (in High Definition!) is a jaw-dropping bonus. The booklet adds the last lashing of finesse to an all-round excellent job by Eureka.

Recommended.

Review by Stuart Willis