My Evening @ SAMA with My Dad

Utamaro and his Five Women is not about a polygamist. My father and I saw this 1946 Japanese film at San Antonio Museum of Art, Tuesday evening. It was the second of three films in SAMA’s Japanese film series screening this month. I’m a cinephile fond of foreign classics, and my father spent his high school years in Japan. For us, the rare opportunity to see these black-and-whites is worth the trek to town.

Utamaro, the film’s protagonist, is an 18^th-century painter renowned for his woodblock prints of beautiful women. The five women of the title include two models of his paintings (a courtesan and a lady-in-waiting), a courtesan on whose back he paints a tattoo, and two women pursuing two of his friends. Naturally, passion, censorship, and murder ensue.

While waiting for the film to begin, Dad and I debated whether the film was made after or during the war. My father argued that it was made after the war; it does say 1946. The chemicals to develop the film couldn’t have been widely available during the war. I argued that it was released in 1946, but go back three to six months for post-production, one to two months for shooting, 12 to 15 months for scriptwriting, fundraising, and casting. Surely, they began research and development during the war.

Utamaro and his Five Women was made during the American Occupation, explained Curator John Johnston introducing the film. In order to produce the film, the script had to be approved by Occupation censors. The film could not involve sword fights, and the protagonist had to be congruent with democratic values. Few period films were approved, as they were deemed inherently nationalistic and militaristic. Although the print wasn’t in peak condition, the setting of the Edo period and the frame compositions are enthralling, and I was surprised by a number of near bawdy turns in dialogue.

After the film, we dashed up to the museum’s second floor to see the room of Taiso Yoshitoshi’s paintings, Season Four of Seasons of Beauty: Yoshitoshi's Thirty-two Aspects of Daily Life. The eight paintings astonished me in the way they beam beauty through exquisite precision and detail—the minute, patterned brush strokes and careful, even embossments. Yoshitoshi’s hand was more trained, his focus more fastidious, his patience more infinite than I can imagine. For an experienced pro, the process couldn’t have been too painful, or so my dad thinks. I imagine that sometimes it’s the process of production and execution that makes artists sane and crazy at the same time.

Next Tuesday’s film is The Assassination (1964) by Masahiro Shinoda. Incidentally, it’s Free Tuesdays, so there’s no admission to the museum. If you’re a member, (good for you!), admission to the theatre is free. If you’re not a member yet, pony up five bucks. We arrived at 6:45 and got good center seats; by 7:00, available seats were mainly in the bottom front rows. The parking lot was fuller than I expected, but we still found a spot.

If you see me and my dad next Tuesday, say hello.

Joy-Marie Scott is a writer, arts advocate, and Fund volunteer.