Ichikawa Kon’s 1956 The Burmese Harp (Biruma no tategoto/Harp of Burma) is a visceral and aesthetic powerhouse. Based on the children’s novel penned by Takeyama Michio, the film presents a unique Japanese perspective on the post-World War II reparations and the subsequent trauma faced by the soldiers caught between honour, justice, and a personal sense of conviction. It is a work representative of “his acerbic account of tradition, modernization and alienation in twentieth century Japan” (Jacoby, 3). Mizushima Yasuhiko (Yasui Shoji) propels this anti-war gendai-geki, as he and his platoon, comprised in part by Captain Inouye (Mikuni Rentarō), Ito (Hamamura Jun), Kobayashi (Neito Taketoshi), and Baba (Nishimura Ko), deal with the ramifications of the Japanese surrender to the Allied Powers. Mizushima is commissioned with the task of bringing news of the surrender to the last-standing platoon, still embroiled in gunfire with the British troops. His words are met by a fierce nationalistic sentiment, and the very troops he came to save in Triangle Mountains are shot down by enemy fire in the uproar.
In a harrowing sequence, Mizushima is confronted with the senselessness and despair of war, as he journeys to rejoin his team who are awaiting repatriation. Ichikawa’s protagonist is faced with the moral dilemma of whether to adopt the ways of the Buddhist monks and ensure the honourable burial of each of his fallen comrades, or to let the fallen lie as collateral in both the aftermath of the war, and the survivors’ opportunity to return home to Japan.
Ichikawa navigates the divides between each ideology, oppositionary forces and disparate languages, through the universal conduit of music. It is used not only to communicate what characters are unable to articulate, but is also employed as a vehicle to convey emotional states of being. This mastery is woven throughout key vantage points in the narrative, such as the choral exchange between the Allied Powers and the Japanese through the song popular with Western audiences as “Home Sweet Home,” and “Hanyu no yado” to Japanese viewers of the film. In other examples embedded in the film, the platoon attempts to utilize song to entice Mizushima back to the POW camp, who in turn uses his traditional harp to return his own salutations, sentiments, and sorrows.
Another distinct aspect of Ichikawa’s work is his characteristic use of light and highly aesthetic camerawork. His prior aspirations to pursue a career a painting are clearly evident in his deft use of contrast between light and dark against a black-and-white film stock. The director exploits light to both delineate the protagonist and opposing forces, as well as to characterize and personify internal states of emotion for each party. This can be seen in the emotion conveyed as Mizushima awakes entombed by the corpses of the Triangle Mountain troops, in a scene indicative of the chiaroscuro seen in Renaissance artworks depicting hills of fallen souls. The subtext of scenes where Captain Inouye and his men are imprisoned is in the POW, is also masterfully conveyed through the use of slanted light, that beams through the panels of the bamboo outhouse, casting reflections of prison bars onto the faces of the platoon.
Charged emotion is also depicted through the vast empty spaces of the striking Burmese landscape, captured by Ichikawa’s telephoto lens and long shots. The landscape ‘speaks’ of the despair and emptiness that weighs on Mizushima, and provides voice to both the ghosts of the fallen soldiers that he faces, as well as the struggle he fights internally. Evidence of this struggle can be seen in the wide angle close-ups such as the rack focus between the anguish of Mizushima, and the parrot that sits on his shoulder: the embodiment of his friend’s wishes for him to come home.
Though some violent imagery may be unsuitable for younger audiences, Ichikawa Kon has taken the storytelling devices of light, camerawork, subtext and mise-en-scéne, and transformed a child’s fantasy about the ethics of war, into an honest and emotional depiction of survival against post-traumatic stress. His work provides his audience a vehicle through Mizushima, to find meaning and reason in the deafening silence after the last gunshot is fired. “To have the courage, to face suffering, senselessness and irrationality without fear, to find strength to create peace by one’s own example” (Ichikawa).
Works Cited
Jacoby, Alexander. “Kon Ichikawa.” Senses of Cinema March 2004