RIKYU (JAPAN/1989/HIROSHI TESHIGAHARA)

Exploring the complicated relationships between the aesthete and the politician, Hiroshi Teshigahara’s penultimate film Rikyu is a respectful profile of one of Japan’s most revered masters of tea ceremonies, and chronicles his relationship with Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the contemporary daimyō who became remembered for uniting Japan’s politically diverse provinces. Having served the previous ruler with dogged diplomacy, Rikyu strives to focus on his role as tutor, but as he grows closer to Hideyoshi, his supposed political syncretism is pulled into question. When Hideyoshi asks for succour in his decision to occupy nearby China, Rikyu’s wavering is interpreted negatively by the daimyō’s other consultants, who plot to oust him from government.

Teshigahara, a master in the art of flower arrangement himself, approaches the subject with a delicacy which suggests where his sympathies lie, handling every scene as if it were a ceremony in itself. Legendary film composer and frequent Teshigahara collaborator Toru Takemitsu polishes sequences off with gentle flourishes of music, never stealing focus from the intimacy of the two lead characters. The film in some ways finds a modern sibling in Aleksandr Sokurov’s The Sun, which forms an uncritical portrait of Emperor Hirohito, or even Im Kwon-Taek’s Chihwaseon, which artfully explores the life of one Korea’s best-known painters. As with arthouse films in any country, Rikyu has an element of the alien that almost disallows outsiders access, but Teshigahara ensures that we do not see the film as just a cultural curio, and it serves as further evidence of his brilliance.

PITFALL (JAPAN/1962/HIROSHI TESHIGAHARA)

Set in an impoverished mining complex, Pitfall tells the story of a close-knit community torn apart by the activities of a mysterious serial killer dressed in white. The murderer’s first victim is an unemployed miner, whom he chases out to a marsh before stabbing him to death. To cover his tracks, he pays the only witness to run to the village and claim that the deed was carried out by the trade union leader of the mine’s newer pit. Naturally, the union leader is distraught and enlists the help of his counterpart from the old pit to investigate. Before long, both are also dead, along with the witness of the first murder. Throughout the film, the deceased return as ghosts, in the state they were in when they died. These ghosts roam the community in pursuit of their killer, but are naturally incapable of alerting the locals or calling for help.

Social realism sits abreast with surrealism in director Hiroshi Teshigahara’s chilling debut. Meditations on mortality quickly outgrow the murder mystery premise as the ghosts of the past literally hang over the present. Hiroshi Segawa’s inventive cinematography rhymes vividly with acclaimed composer Toru Takemitsu’s penetrative soundtrack. The film shares a lot of its themes (death, absence, identity) and atmosphere with Teshigahara’s monumental second film Woman of the Dunes, and the two work splendidly as parallel stories. Less forgiving viewers may complain about the lack of conclusion, but it is otherwise impossible to fault Pitfall, yet another Japanese New Wave classic.