Most of Mikio Naruse‘s postwar films center around working-class women of various ages who must confront society’s inequities and try to escape social determinism. “Lightning” is no exception — although this time it gives more screen time to a tapestry of female characters who represent many versions of the fate awaiting women in Japan at the time.
Sincerity is screening at Japan Society as part of the Mikio Naruse: The World Betrays Us program
The story nominally focuses on Kiyoko, a 23-year-old tour guide living with her family in Shitamachi, a working-class area of Tokyo. Kiyoko is a young woman who wishes she could benefit from the rapid modernization of Japan and spends her time comparing — somewhat unconvincingly — Tokyo to Paris for the benefit of the tourists under her care. Unfortunately for her, she lives in a deeply troubled family, which receives as much attention from Naruse as her own emotional journey.
Kiyoko has two half-sisters, including Mitsuko (Mitsuko Miura), who soon becomes a widow and learns that her husband was keeping a mistress — and even had a baby with her. The other half-sister is Nuiko (Chieko Murata), a hard-edged, cynical woman who despises her weak-willed husband and is having an affair with Tsunakichi (Sakae Ozawa), a baker and successful businessman who has invested in the clothing store her husband runs. There is also a half-brother, Kasuke (Maruyama Osa), an unemployed war veteran and another weak-willed man, who spends his time drinking and loitering in pachinko arcades. Finally, there is the single mother (Kumeko Urabe), who had each of her children with a different man and presents a vision of womanhood that Kiyoko vehemently rejects.
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It soon becomes clear that Kiyoko despises most of her family — their pettiness, vindictiveness, and obsession with money. She studiously avoids Tsunakichi, who is attracted to her and her haughty attitude. At first close to her sister Mitsuko, who seems to be too kind for her own good, Kiyoko eventually distances herself upon realizing Mitsuko has also begun an affair with Tsunakichi. The whole sycophantic family has seemingly made the baker their center of gravity, unable to escape the clutches of a man — and a predator — who promises them money. Couldn’t Kiyoko be reasonable and become his mistress too?
Typically for Naruse’s films, this is a complex story with complex characters, although the depiction of family life and social ambition here is even more acid and ghastly than in most of his work. When good-natured Mitsuko visits her late husband’s mistress (played by Chieko Nakakita), the latter asks for money — and in fact, the whole vulgar family is only interested in the life insurance Mitsuko will soon receive. There is a sense, however, that this family is simply enforcing the broader social order, repeatedly chasing dreams of mobility by opening a clothing store, a hotel, and a coffee shop. And where is a woman supposed to find the money to do so, except through her husband or lover?
That being said, it soon becomes difficult not to understand — if not share — Kiyoko’s rejection of her family. However, as usual, Naruse (adapting here a 1936 novel by Fumiko Hayashi) does not view these people with contempt. His focus is more on the limited options available to women, with the sisters and mother each representing a different alternative. Kiyoko is different not only because she is younger, but also because she can see another example: the tenant living upstairs, a young woman her age who is studying and even reading books. You can see the wonder on her face and feel her longing when she looks at these books, which are promises that another kind of life is possible.
Much of the film rests on the skills of the large cast of actresses. Kiyoko is played by the phenomenal Hideko Takamine. Kumeko Urabe as the mother is also central, as demonstrated by the final confrontation and climax of the film — one of the most memorable in the entire Naruse filmography. After Kiyoko has finally left the family’s home and rented a peaceful room in the suburbs, her mother visits, bringing back all the acrimony and grievances Kiyoko is trying to escape. This opens the door for the young woman to speak up and fiercely criticize her mother’s behavior — especially for having so many children with so many men, “like a cat.” This exchange takes place during a distant thunderstorm, with flashes of lightning that echo the title of the film, Kiyoko’s emotional outburst, and perhaps a spark of hope for the future.
Endings are often very subtle and skillful — if bittersweet — in Naruse’s films, and without spoiling anything, this is one of the best. The emotional climax centers on a confrontation between two generations and two very different visions of womanhood. “Lightning” offers no definitive statements, answers, or solutions, but it presents an arresting portrait of rebellion. One that, most strikingly, could be ended simply by Kiyoko meeting a nice man and marrying him, like the neigbor playing the piano while the argument is taking place. You secretly hope she won’t — and that she’ll follow her own path. But after all, what else is a woman supposed to do?
