There have always been stories about grifters, liars, and thieves for about as long as there have been heroes and heroines. Sometimes they’re lovable arbiters of chaos, sometimes always in it for themselves. Each time, though, they are often thought of only through the lens of right and wrong and rarely within the confines of the when and why. Impressively, director Yūzō Kawashima’s (A Sun-Tribe Myth from the Bakumatsu Era) 1962 dramedy Elegant Beast (しとやかな獣), also known as The Graceful Brute, anchors his tale in what appears to be then-present day post-World War II Japan, laying in concepts of resilience, honor, and duty as the foundation for why the Maeda family do what they do as they face having their veil of innocence lifted for all to see.
On one seemingly random October day, the small apartment in which the Maeda family live becomes host to one guest after another, each one bringing with them a different piece of devastating news. It’s not just that son Minoru (Manamitsu Kawabata) is being accused of embezzling funds from his job or that daughter Tomoko (Yūko Hamada) may no longer be under the patronage of wealthy author Shuntaro Yoshizawa (Kyū Sazanka), it’s that each one of these issues brings with them the opportunity to crash the house of cards upon which the Maeda family survive. With each grift threatening to collapse, do they run or take their chances by staying?
Within the basic premise, one comes to expect Elegant Beast to be a tension-filled affair as each of the visitors reveal some kind of truth that upends the casual life of the Maedas. In execution, the best way to describe Kawashima’s film to modern audiences is a combination of Jūzō Itami’s 1984 The Funeral (a dark comedy wherein the laughs come from the reaction/response/execution of social/cultural norms) and Bong Joon-ho’s 2019 Parasite (dramedy thriller in which aspects of class are explored through a similarly unethical way of life). With everything that happens, the Maeda’s, especially the heads of the family, Tokizo and his wife Yoshino (Yūnosuke Itō and Hisano Yamaoka, respectively), take everything in stride, issuing public apologies to all who come by to complain or demand restitution, while privately they discuss the most likely scenarios and the actions to take as a result. The children are less stoic in the face of proclamations of ill-will, specifically Minoru who reacts explosively (not to be confused for violence) more often than not, his impulsiveness presented by way of comparison to Tokizo as an aspect of his youth. However, it’s the script by Kaneto Shindō (Onibaba; Irezumi) that conveys a major difference of the two Maeda men, Tokizo fought in World War II whereas Minoru did not, and the lives each lead in post-War Japan are decidedly different. Tokizo is former military, something history informs he would’ve been drafted into, and is used to the social norms of honor and social responsibility that guide his perspective (despite his actions being in direct opposition to that perspective) versus Minoru who is a little bit more free, a reaction to the American influence in Japan. This is partially addressed in the film via the bombing runs that we hear and that Tokizo observes from his balcony, but never specifically addressed by the characters; however, as American military remained in Japan post-conflict, there’s no denying that the close proximity would influence to next generation to come up ante bellum. Especially when one considers how the score from composer Sei Ikeno (Red Angel) uses Noh for the majority of the film with one singular scene utilizing a then-modern form of rock ‘n roll via a music video on their television set during a moment of sibling bonding and the film becomes colored with past vs present conflict, emblematic of the choices they’ve made coming to roost upon them now.
It’s a positively rich film and the new restoration from Radiance just raises the bar. According to the liner notes of the retail copy sent for review by MVD Entertainment Group, the film was restored in 4K by Kadokawa Corporation with further color grading completed by Radiance in 2023. There’s no indication of when Kadokawa completed the restoration or with what materials, so it’s unclear if this comes from an original print or not. In the short time that Radiance has been distributing restorations and remasters, they’ve developed a reputation for trying to get the highest quality materials, so I’m going to take this one on faith. When projected via my 4K Panasonic player upon my 63 inch Sony Bravia, there’s very little grain (enough to be accepted for movies shot on film, but not to suggest degradation, dirt, or grime), the colors are nicely balanced, and there’s plenty of noticeable detail. So much so that I wondered (as I have with 4K UHD releases like Batman (1989)) if restoring to such a higher level of detail goes against what the director would want. Specifically in the case of Ayako Wakao’s Mitani whose facial makeup in some scenes is visibly noticeable where it meets the ridgeline of her hair on her forehead. It’s quite possible that in earlier prints this was far less noticeable. This is, of course, a quibble when compared to the way we’re better able to get a sense of the drabness of the interior of the Maeda apartment compared to the beautiful red sky signifying the sun set that completes the first day’s business. Interestingly, beautiful as it is, it also serves as a signifier of the war to come, as if the sky bleeds for them and them alone. Regarding the audio, though this is a monaural track, it still comes through my Yamaha 5.1 Surround System smoothly with the dialogue clear and the ambient sounds balanced enough not to overtake the dialogue when the score rises.
As per usual, Radiance offers quality bonus materials to go along with their release. It’s never about more-being-more or less-being-more with their releases, but about ensuring that there’s something extra to go along with the restoration of a release that audiences, especially outside the residing country of the film, may not be familiar with. In this case, Radiance includes within their booklet two different essays, one by Midori Suiren that explores director Kawashima’s career and his use of women in film and one by Yasunari Takahashi examining the single location set of the film and what it means to the film thematically and technically. Beyond that, it’s the usual still images, cast and crew listing, and restoration/release information. On-disc, Radiance offers three pieces to investigate post-watch of the film which total roughly 42 minutes. There’s an interview with film critic Toshiaki Sato who talks about the film within its historical and cultural context; filmmaker Toshiaki Toyoda (Blue Spring; 9 Souls) discusses the influence of Elegant Beast; and critic Tom Mes offers their perspective on Japan post-war as represented in the film in their visual essay titled, “The Age of the Danchi.”
In terms of the packaging itself, Elegant Beast features a reversible cover with new artwork on the front and back, while one of the original posters is on the inverse. It also includes the standard removable OBI strip for individuals looking for a clean look when it sits on their shelf. Personally, I like keeping the OBI strip on as it includes the film description, length, restoration information, and other little details that help me when describing their films to others who haven’t seen them. I’m also the sort who doesn’t keep slipcovers because they take up space when I store my cases, so make of that what you will.
If the above is of interest to you in any way, keep in mind that Radiance tends not to restock many of their releases and Elegant Beast is limited to 3000 copies. Titles like Visible Secret (2001) don’t seem to be getting any new editions released, whereas The Sunday Woman (1975), if I’m not mistaken, did. This may be determined by license, but it’s worth considering as sometimes it’s better to regret the purchase than regret the wait, speaking as one physical media fan to another. Given that Elegant Beast plays as a scruples comedy, a family drama, and a generational conflict thriller all at once, all while maintaining its intellectual and thematic resonance some years later, if any that you’ve read thus far makes you curious, I doubt you’re going to regret the snag. However, if you’re looking for something less morally murky to spend some time with, either hold off until a sale and hope it’s still in stock or skip it entirely. But, if you’re a fan of Shindō’s prior work, this one won’t disappoint.
Elegant Beast Special Features:
- New 4K restoration
- Uncompressed mono PCM audio
- Interview with film critic Toshiaki Sato (2023) (16:34)
- Appreciation by filmmaker Toshiaki Toyoda (2023) (14:21)
- The Age of the Danchi, visual essay by critic Tom Mes on post-war architecture in Japanese cinema (2023) (11:38)
- Trailer (2:16)
- New and improved English subtitles
- Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork
- Limited edition booklet featuring new writing by Midori Suiren and contemporary archival writing
- Limited edition of 3000 copies, presented in full-height Scanavo packaging with removable OBI strip leaving packaging free of certificates and markings
Available on Blu-ray December 19th, 2023.
For more information, head to the official Radiance Films Elegant Beast webpage.
To purchase, head to the official MVD Entertainment Group Elegant Beast webpage.
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Categories: Films To Watch, Home Release, Home Video, Recommendation, Reviews
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