Das geschriebene Gesicht (1995) - full transcript
Princess Inada is desperate because she
has been chosen as a human sacrifice
to placate Orochi, the huge serpent.
But the ancient god
Susanoo no Mikato appears.
He looks for a way to save Inada.
They serve Orochi
countless bottles of sake until Susanoo
is able to kill the serpent.
A Japanese artist called
Tamasaburo Bando stands before us.
He has great talent as a dancer
in Kabuki theatre.
His name is famous everywhere.
The entire village is awaiting him.
We are happy and proud that he is
appearing in our Uchiko-za theatre.
This silence while I make up
makes me uneasy.
But too much noise is no better.
Très joli,
molto bello.
This is unique.
There are so many strange things.
But it is beautiful.
It is a shame that you cannot
see the mountains today.
Formerly I thought
that I could act like a woman.
But then I recognised that I have never
seen the world with the eyes of a woman.
Never with her own eyes. I understood
that my vision is that of a man.
I act a woman with the eyes
and the feelings of a man;
like a man painting
the portrait of a woman.
This is how I give shape
to an Onnagata rôle.
I try to portray an ideal image of
woman, in the same way a male writer
describes feminine feelings
from the standpoint of a man.
I do not represent a woman,
but I suggest
the essence of woman. That is
the nature of the Onnagata, isn't it?
I gather up knowledge about women. I
watch different women: this is how they
react, this is how they place their hand
on their hair when they are thinking.
I gather up this type of material and
transform it. Thus my masculine instinct
evolves naturally. In such a way,
models of womanliness take shape.
This is how I proceed.
I've switched on Time.
- Time.
- Time?
How do you play that?
Oh, now I understand.
Wouldn't you rather go into the theatre?
- Yes, let's go.
- Take off your shoes.
Please switch it off, otherwise the
batteries will run out.
A dog is barking.
Kuronoshi, disguised as Sekibei,
the guardian of a barrier,
is planning to take over
the imperial power.
He becomes drunk and notices
the stars reflected in a bowl of sake.
- Now I have lost.
- Have you?
For how long have you been
playing this game?
- How old were you?
- I don't know.
Sometimes I play other games.
When?
Well, I... go on.
Now you must press Time.
- Do we want to go into the theatre?
- Yes.
Let's go.
Kabuki.
Sekibei takes the reflection
of the stars in the sake as a sign.
If he makes a burnt offering
with wood from the cherry tree,
his plan to become emperor
will come true.
Trying to cut down the tree,
he is stopped by the spirit of the tree
in the form of the courtesan Sumizome
who finally triumphs.
No, I am not a Kabuki professor.
I am just an actor.
The Onnagata is often said to be more
feminine than women themselves.
That sounds simple.
There are however women
whom I feel are exceptional in their fe-
mininity: for example Garbo or Dietrich;
Hollywood made them into a type
of identifiable artistic symbol.
Han Takehara and Haruko Sugimura
are a similar phenomenon.
The fact that they are women
can be withheld at first.
Then their performing material can be
laid out and they can draw on what is
useful and set it out in "preparation",
as if in a cooking process.
These, I believe, are women
with an extraordinary talent.
Excuse me. First I bow,
then I close the fan,
then I bow again
and stand up, then I go over there...
about here I look back.
When a man plays a woman
he observes her very exactly,
with much closer attention
than women do among themselves.
That is why an Onnagata, an actor of
women's rôles, can show many things
which are unknown to a woman.
That is why I believe that I have learnt
a great deal from men, from Onnagatas.
It is impossible to act
exactly like them.
Why are women's rôles acted by women
often more boring
than Onnagata interpretations?
They seem more colourless on stage
than when men play their parts.
The great performer Han Takehara was
too broad-shouldered for the May Dance.
And from the beginning the great actress
Haruko Sugimura played mothers
because she was not
considered beautiful.
By awareness of
their own imperfections,
both were able to see themselves
more objectively.
As a man who plays women's rôles,
my situation is similar.
Furthermore I have had a disabled leg
since my youth.
That has made me
more sensitive in movement.
And I am too tall.
I am taller than all former Japanese
performers of women's rôles.
I can consider my size objectively.
As in a cooking process,
I dissect and "prepare" myself.
It seems strange that a weakness
can become an advantage,
but I have sought to work
with these imperfections.
I always wanted to act in theatre.
When I was young,
a woman who wanted to go into film
had above all to be beautiful.
Therefore I did not even dream
of becoming a film actress.
What?
Tabe San!
Tabe San!
We have not seen each other
for a long time.
Stay seated and wait a moment.
Excuse me.
Leave that! When a woman gets ready,
she likes to be alone.
The 21st century is about to begin.
I do not know
what the world will look like.
But the essential substance of which
people and their feelings are made
will not change.
Film is first and foremost
entertainment.
But it also allows us
to think about life in general.
That is why it will not disappear.
We live in a time of transition.
And nothing goes on forever,
neither good things
nor bad things.
It smells odd. What are you burning?
Only the cigarette butt.
I have nothing to say.
That is why I dance and act.
Which is where everything
I wish to express can be seen.
Things which are impossible to say.
The substance of what I want to say
lies in the act of looking back
or of putting on a costume.
Of course I use language to help when I
try to explain my feelings, or ideas.
I choose my words carefully, arrange
and connect them as if editing a film.
Nonetheless words only have
a secondary nature for me.
For me, movement is something
which comes from one's own heart
and to which I give form.
Do you understand?
With sadness, when I am sad,
thoughtfully, when I am thoughtful.
Just so, I move my body and my heart.
That's how it is.
People who know
how to play like children,
adapt every space which is given to
them.
From an isolated space capsule,
they can create a cosmos.
Such, I think,
are people with a theatrical soul.
My twilight Geisha time
will soon be over.
It is moving into evening sunlight.
Time passes
like the critically decisive instant...
One cannot choose,
the questions remain open,
in this unique twilight zone
in which the destiny of man
is played out.
From the beginning onwards.
Geisha? I began early as a Geisha.
In the 43rd year of the Meiji era
I entered a Geisha school
in Yanagibashi.
I started as a 16-year-old.
So I have worked as a Geisha for
80 years, as I am 101 years old today.
Please relax.
We are leaving Osaka,
in order to hide away.
We are fleeing,
today in the hut of Nara,
tomorrow in Miwa's teahouse.
You are angry, I know,
but we must submit to destiny.
Thank you.
When I am in the house,
I think of love.
When I go outside,
I think of love.
A light breeze and a full moon
are not as beautiful as we are.
Even a couple of mandarin ducks,
who always fly together,
do not love as much as we do.
Now the beautiful time has passed.
Only a memory remains.
A maiden who has been abandoned
by her lover goes mad and dies.
Finding no peace, she reappears
as the reincarnation of a heron.
In different shapes she dances
on a snowy winter's night.
has been chosen as a human sacrifice
to placate Orochi, the huge serpent.
But the ancient god
Susanoo no Mikato appears.
He looks for a way to save Inada.
They serve Orochi
countless bottles of sake until Susanoo
is able to kill the serpent.
A Japanese artist called
Tamasaburo Bando stands before us.
He has great talent as a dancer
in Kabuki theatre.
His name is famous everywhere.
The entire village is awaiting him.
We are happy and proud that he is
appearing in our Uchiko-za theatre.
This silence while I make up
makes me uneasy.
But too much noise is no better.
Très joli,
molto bello.
This is unique.
There are so many strange things.
But it is beautiful.
It is a shame that you cannot
see the mountains today.
Formerly I thought
that I could act like a woman.
But then I recognised that I have never
seen the world with the eyes of a woman.
Never with her own eyes. I understood
that my vision is that of a man.
I act a woman with the eyes
and the feelings of a man;
like a man painting
the portrait of a woman.
This is how I give shape
to an Onnagata rôle.
I try to portray an ideal image of
woman, in the same way a male writer
describes feminine feelings
from the standpoint of a man.
I do not represent a woman,
but I suggest
the essence of woman. That is
the nature of the Onnagata, isn't it?
I gather up knowledge about women. I
watch different women: this is how they
react, this is how they place their hand
on their hair when they are thinking.
I gather up this type of material and
transform it. Thus my masculine instinct
evolves naturally. In such a way,
models of womanliness take shape.
This is how I proceed.
I've switched on Time.
- Time.
- Time?
How do you play that?
Oh, now I understand.
Wouldn't you rather go into the theatre?
- Yes, let's go.
- Take off your shoes.
Please switch it off, otherwise the
batteries will run out.
A dog is barking.
Kuronoshi, disguised as Sekibei,
the guardian of a barrier,
is planning to take over
the imperial power.
He becomes drunk and notices
the stars reflected in a bowl of sake.
- Now I have lost.
- Have you?
For how long have you been
playing this game?
- How old were you?
- I don't know.
Sometimes I play other games.
When?
Well, I... go on.
Now you must press Time.
- Do we want to go into the theatre?
- Yes.
Let's go.
Kabuki.
Sekibei takes the reflection
of the stars in the sake as a sign.
If he makes a burnt offering
with wood from the cherry tree,
his plan to become emperor
will come true.
Trying to cut down the tree,
he is stopped by the spirit of the tree
in the form of the courtesan Sumizome
who finally triumphs.
No, I am not a Kabuki professor.
I am just an actor.
The Onnagata is often said to be more
feminine than women themselves.
That sounds simple.
There are however women
whom I feel are exceptional in their fe-
mininity: for example Garbo or Dietrich;
Hollywood made them into a type
of identifiable artistic symbol.
Han Takehara and Haruko Sugimura
are a similar phenomenon.
The fact that they are women
can be withheld at first.
Then their performing material can be
laid out and they can draw on what is
useful and set it out in "preparation",
as if in a cooking process.
These, I believe, are women
with an extraordinary talent.
Excuse me. First I bow,
then I close the fan,
then I bow again
and stand up, then I go over there...
about here I look back.
When a man plays a woman
he observes her very exactly,
with much closer attention
than women do among themselves.
That is why an Onnagata, an actor of
women's rôles, can show many things
which are unknown to a woman.
That is why I believe that I have learnt
a great deal from men, from Onnagatas.
It is impossible to act
exactly like them.
Why are women's rôles acted by women
often more boring
than Onnagata interpretations?
They seem more colourless on stage
than when men play their parts.
The great performer Han Takehara was
too broad-shouldered for the May Dance.
And from the beginning the great actress
Haruko Sugimura played mothers
because she was not
considered beautiful.
By awareness of
their own imperfections,
both were able to see themselves
more objectively.
As a man who plays women's rôles,
my situation is similar.
Furthermore I have had a disabled leg
since my youth.
That has made me
more sensitive in movement.
And I am too tall.
I am taller than all former Japanese
performers of women's rôles.
I can consider my size objectively.
As in a cooking process,
I dissect and "prepare" myself.
It seems strange that a weakness
can become an advantage,
but I have sought to work
with these imperfections.
I always wanted to act in theatre.
When I was young,
a woman who wanted to go into film
had above all to be beautiful.
Therefore I did not even dream
of becoming a film actress.
What?
Tabe San!
Tabe San!
We have not seen each other
for a long time.
Stay seated and wait a moment.
Excuse me.
Leave that! When a woman gets ready,
she likes to be alone.
The 21st century is about to begin.
I do not know
what the world will look like.
But the essential substance of which
people and their feelings are made
will not change.
Film is first and foremost
entertainment.
But it also allows us
to think about life in general.
That is why it will not disappear.
We live in a time of transition.
And nothing goes on forever,
neither good things
nor bad things.
It smells odd. What are you burning?
Only the cigarette butt.
I have nothing to say.
That is why I dance and act.
Which is where everything
I wish to express can be seen.
Things which are impossible to say.
The substance of what I want to say
lies in the act of looking back
or of putting on a costume.
Of course I use language to help when I
try to explain my feelings, or ideas.
I choose my words carefully, arrange
and connect them as if editing a film.
Nonetheless words only have
a secondary nature for me.
For me, movement is something
which comes from one's own heart
and to which I give form.
Do you understand?
With sadness, when I am sad,
thoughtfully, when I am thoughtful.
Just so, I move my body and my heart.
That's how it is.
People who know
how to play like children,
adapt every space which is given to
them.
From an isolated space capsule,
they can create a cosmos.
Such, I think,
are people with a theatrical soul.
My twilight Geisha time
will soon be over.
It is moving into evening sunlight.
Time passes
like the critically decisive instant...
One cannot choose,
the questions remain open,
in this unique twilight zone
in which the destiny of man
is played out.
From the beginning onwards.
Geisha? I began early as a Geisha.
In the 43rd year of the Meiji era
I entered a Geisha school
in Yanagibashi.
I started as a 16-year-old.
So I have worked as a Geisha for
80 years, as I am 101 years old today.
Please relax.
We are leaving Osaka,
in order to hide away.
We are fleeing,
today in the hut of Nara,
tomorrow in Miwa's teahouse.
You are angry, I know,
but we must submit to destiny.
Thank you.
When I am in the house,
I think of love.
When I go outside,
I think of love.
A light breeze and a full moon
are not as beautiful as we are.
Even a couple of mandarin ducks,
who always fly together,
do not love as much as we do.
Now the beautiful time has passed.
Only a memory remains.
A maiden who has been abandoned
by her lover goes mad and dies.
Finding no peace, she reappears
as the reincarnation of a heron.
In different shapes she dances
on a snowy winter's night.