The Sea is Watching is the latest splash in the ongoing wave of previously unavailable East Asian films coming to America through boutique Blu-ray labels, this one through Imprint: Asia. It’s the second-to-last screenplay from one of the greatest Maestros of Film, Akira Kurosawa (Seven Samurai; High and Low), and the one he was trying to get off the ground when he broke his back, bringing his career to an end just a few short years before his death. The film was meant as a direct response to criticism of his handling of female characters across his films. Instead, nine years later and four years after his death, Kei Kumai (Sandakan No.8; The Long Death), a Japanese director hailed for his depictions of women and women’s rights issues, completed The Sea is Watching. The screenplay was finished in 1993, which means this is not just one of the greatest artists to ever live addressing his own artistic blind spot in the form of female agency, but also a direct response to Japan’s decades-long economic plight set off by the crash of 1990. It’s an important text to any cinephile seeking to study the arc of Kurosawa, especially since his final and more lauded script, After the Rain (1999), is still only available through an ancient DVD released in Japan with no English subtitles. The Sea is Watching is also a pretty boring film, up until its last, excellent 30 minutes.
L-R: Masatoshi Nagase as Ryosuke and Nagiko Tōno as O-Shin in Kei Kumai’s THE SEA IS WATCHING. Photo courtesy of Imprint Films.
The Sea is Watching follows the fascination of many male auteurs attempting to create complex female characters, a prostitute with a heart of gold. In this case, Nagiko Tōno (Moving, Darkness in the Light) plays O-Shin, a geisha who has a habit of falling in love with her clients. When Fusanosuke (Hidetaka Yoshioka (Godzilla Minus One, Rhapsody in August)), a young samurai trying to drink for the first time, seeks shelter after drunkenly stabbing someone, O-Shin and the rest of her house are thrust into a game of courtship, class ascension, and murder. I say “the rest of her house,” because not only does her story drag in the rest of the geishas, but the film takes place almost entirely within the house. Where many other male auteurs have approached countering critique on female characters by inserting them into roles clearly designed for men, with buzz words and themes clumsily exchanged in order to apply a coat of “feminism” to the film like a slumlord painting over a light switch, Kurosawa’s script instead feels more like Lion King 1 ½ (2004) or Big Trouble in Little China (1986) — a feature-length film from the point of view of side characters. At least, for the first 60 minutes or so. The film is bifurcated, with the first half taking place on the sideline of a film we don’t get to see, about a young samurai trying to win back his father’s approval and restore his honor while taking advice from the nice geisha who saved him. Fusanosuke is truly an idiot, and he brings an idiot’s hope with him, cursing those around him with disappointment dressed up in optimism’s clothing. It’s the dark side we never get to see of charismatic leading men and their stories. The second half sees one of the older geishas, Misa Shimizu (Shall We Dance, Warm Water Under a Red Bridge) take the role of lead from Tōno, as O-Shin and the rest of the geishas encounter a new set of men trying to draw them into their stories. Instead, the geishas begin to claw for control of the film’s narrative. This second half explores recovering lost hope, and the violence that patriarchal desire visits upon women, actively and passively.
The screenplay is quite good, but the direction leaves much to be desired. While Kumai draws good performances out of his actors, one cannot help but feel that Kurosawa would never make a film this ugly and devoid of visual metaphor. From the jump, the film opens with a low-poly, PlayStation 2-sequel render of a small compound, before crossfading into that compound’s street of ill-repute as day turns to night. The sets of this film are notably artificial and feel like a soundstage or a rotating stage in a theatrical production. This could be fine if the film weren’t trying to pretend it’s filmed on location. The opening render could have been a very simple model, but instead, it becomes a glaring indication that this film was not shot in the Edo period. Instead of making us feel like we’re watching a stage play as a model/set would, this baffling opening shot stands as an example of this film’s biggest issue: it’s a timeless story of the past told with bland modernity. The taste of v-cinema is all over this film, and not in a fun way. The flat cinematography of the v-cinema era, and the boy-band-esque movie stars whose faces have seen a Nokia phone, are all at war with the screenplay. Kumai’s focus on performance over visual stylization is consistent with directors of the time, and again, not something Kurosawa would have done. A screenplay written by a visual master is designed to stand on the images in their head, and Kumai just doesn’t have that kind of juice. He does, however, seem to get some inspiration in the last 30 minutes, as the rest of the film does.
THE SEA IS WATCHING. Photo courtesy of Imprint Films.
The Blu-ray itself looks ok and sounds great, though for some strange reason, no subtitles are given when characters sing. It comes in a premium-feeling, side-loading slipcase, and a clear box. There’s no booklet and no new featurettes like you might expect for something releasing in a run limited to 1500 copies. Instead, we only get a behind-the-scenes documentary that seems to be a freshly translated extra from the Japanese DVD. This short documentary feels like a VOSOT for PBS News or a museum installation’s informational film. It includes an interview with Kurosawa’s daughter, costume designer Kazuko Kurosawa (Shoplifters, Zatoichi), and the words “chic Edo” a few dozen times give or take. It’s informational while trying to inspire reverence, and it falls short of that.
“Falling short” could be the title of The Sea is Watching, but don’t let yourself think I don’t like it. While overly long and boring to look at, it’s more than a metatextuality significant release in the study of one of the great artists. It does succeed in its last, astonishing 30 minutes, to catch the wind it’s been attempting to ride, and it soars to an incredible final shot. When I first watched the film, I was checking my lock screen hoping it was over, only to realize there was another hour left. The film had not yet revealed its purpose to me. But it does have one. The visual motif that does work in the film comes from Kurosawa’s notes, and it’s subtle enough to go unnoticed for quite some time. But by the film’s end, Kurosawa’s screenplay and vision have summarized and recontextualized his own canon. Not as accomplished or purely authored as the modern examples, it stands beside The Fablemans (2022) and The Boy and the Heron (2023) as a culminating coda to a great career, and a good film. It is pointedly political, humanizing not just Kurosawa’s women, but all of the Japanese lower and middle classes, railing against the hopelessness and despair left in the wake of the ‘90s crisis. With his final lines, Kurosawa told the world that finding love and self-actualization is the way to not only respecting yourself in any station of life but to give the next generation a chance at these freedoms as well. If only he could have shown us too.
The Sea is Watching Special Features:
- 1080p High-definition presentation on Blu-ray
- Behind The Scenes Featurette
- Theatrical Trailer
- Audio Japanese LPCM 2.0 Stereo
- Optional English Subtitles
- Original Aspect Ratio 1.85:1
- Limited edition slipcase with unique artwork
Available on Blu-ray March 27th, 2024.
For more information, head to the official Imprint Films The Sea is Watching webpage.
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Categories: Home Release, Home Video, Recommendation, Reviews
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