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Crazed Fruit (The Criterion Collection)

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Having lived in Japan for seven years, and taught at a fine University during that time, I saw many young people who were on the fringe of society....even now, and it was unnerving to see the total disregard for others in this film so early after the war. That attitude is still prevalent in Japan.
The fact that the attitude seems rather universal in Western societies, and increasingly all Asian societies as well, the young people grow into adulthood, keeping their adolescence.
It surely fosters the ME, ME, ME behavior and makes real human compassion difficult in light of this obsessive selfishness.
I cringe at some of the scenes in the film because it is such raw reality. Beautiful people doing not so beautiful things,
is a fascination for many people, so I think the film will be an interesting wake up call for our present time.

Penned by Ishihara Shintaro, the same ultraconservative politician-author who wrote The Japan that can Say No, Crazed Fruit depicts the lives of privileged Japanese young people during the 1950s. Unburdened by Japan's militaristic past that their parents' generation had to endure, the members of the Sun Tribe, a name given to certain groups of teenagers during this era, were able to enjoy the early fruits of the early capitalist Japan. However, well aware the faults and frailties of the previous couple of generations, these teenagers desire to toss aside traditional values and to create new ones. Yet, if this film could be used as an example, the only things they seem to gain are material items and boredom.

The central characters of this film are the brothers Natsuhisa and Haruji. Seasoned in the ways of the Sun Tribe, Natsuhisa spends his days in such "decadent" activities such as playing the ukulele, water skiing, and playing cards. Joined by his mixed blood friend Frank, the duo, along with a few other friends, seem to do little more than chase after girls and hang out at the beach. The younger brother Haruji, however, is still a bit naďve and while not fully engraining himself in his brother's lifestyle, obviously wants to make an impression on the older boys

One day at the train station Haruji encounters a young girl and is immediately smitten with her squeaky clean image. Eventually Haruji and Eri become a couple and the young man is elated because of his good fortune. Besides a few innocent first kisses, their relationship remains quite tame and it seems the young lovebirds are willing to take things slow. Yet, of course, a dark cloud begins to hover over their relationship when Natsuhisa becomes jealous of his younger brother and they worsen even more when Natsuhisa discovers that Eri is not quite the girl she makes herself out to be.

Quite tame by today's standards, and in comparison to the original novella, Crazed Fruit caused quite a stir back during the 1950s because of its depiction of teenagers drinking, sleeping around, and getting into fights. However, it helped usher in a new type of film that focused on teenagers. Instead of depicting youths doing all in their power to strengthen Japan, these new films depicted dispirited youths suffering from ennui whose only care was to fill empty time.

This review is for the Criterion Collection Edition:

I won't go into the plot, since that seems to have been covered fairly accurately and completely by others. I will say that within moments of watching the open scene with Haruji speeding along in his boat, the jazzy background music playing in the background, I was hooked. The movie is full of fascinating camera movements, music, and acting. The characters are selfish, decadent, and rebellious... and yet we somehow feel sympathetic for them, even before it leads to disaster.

I was certain I'd go searching for more films by Director Ko Nakahira, but according to the fantastic commentary by Donald Richie, after this commercially and critically successful film, he was forced to make standard dribble by the studios. That's a shame, because this is a film where he obviously took risks with the camera, dialogue, and sexual innnuendo. Richie's commentary helps the Western viewer put a lot of the movie into context, explaining Japanese social and film-making trends at the time as well the fate of the major actors. I was dying to know why the car was right hand-drive though, and he never answered that one!

The essays included in the Criterion set are also insightful for putting the movie into context, although none of this "context placing" material is necessary. Watch the movie and you'll find yourself feeling nostalgic for the late 50's in Japan--a time and place I doubt most knew about before.

It's ironic that this movie has an establishing scene in the Kamakura train station, the same locale used by master director Yasujiro Ozu in his classic home dramas, "Late Spring" and "Early Summer". But that's where the similarity ends, as this jazz-infused, troubled-youth 1956 film is truly the antithesis of Ozu - tawdry, explicit and in-your-face. If you were to watch this movie solely on the basis of the campy trailer that comes with the Criterion Collection DVD, you would think you were going to watch something quite cheesy and exploitative similar to the cheapjack American teenage rebellion films of the period like "High School Confidential" and "The Beat Generation" - all raging hormones, James Dean wannabes, pervasive use of back projection, deep shadows and saucy saxophone riffs. To some degree, you would be right, but first-time director Kô Nakahira seems more inspired by French New Wave in his use of jump cuts and handheld camera shots. The stylistic touches and then-shocking sexual frankness do elevate this low-budget film but from my perspective, not really at the level that film scholar Donald Richie would have you believe in his informative commentary.

The story revolves around two restless brothers - older, predatory Natsuhisa and virginal, self-righteous Haruji - who battle over a mysterious girl named Eri, seemingly innocent and ideal at first but a more decadent character emerges as the plot unfolds. There are lots of scenes of bored, immoral youth with cash to burn and no aspirations beyond water skiing and getting drunk and laid. The love triangle inevitably leads to tragic, almost Baroque consequences in its brief, 86-minute running time with some surprisingly effective camera angles tightening the vise of the characters' illicit behavior. The performances seem rather derivative of American icons like Clift and Dean though effective within this context - Masahiko Tsugawa effortlessly brings out the teen angst in Haruji, Yujirô Ishihara portrays the jaded horn dog that Natsuhisa has become with abandon and a certain élan, and pretty Mie Kitahara does manage to elicit sympathy to a character that seems to reveal one moral weakness after another. I have to admit the over-the-top elements are what makes this film memorable - the great title, the foreboding clarinet solos and twangy Hawaiian guitars of Masaru Sato's and Toru Takemitsu's insinuating score; Masumi Okada as Frank, a half-white, half-Japanese observer of the brotherly unraveling (and by default, the film's moral conscience); and the extended and truly suspenseful circling boat sequence at the end. Definitely take a look if you want a peek at the nihilistic youth culture of mid-1950's Japan, certainly a universal theme during that period.

The children of post-War Japan were a "lost generation." Having not known the suffering and hardships of their parents, and cut free from the rigid social codes that had dominated Japanese life for centuries, codes now abolished by the American occupiers, this "Sun Tribe" were an aimless, decedent bunch, lacking guidance or self-direction. Their world and their parent's world were just too different, a generation gap almost impossible to comprehend. On one side, war, desperate poverty and militarism, on the other Western freedoms, abundance and selfishness.

Nakahiran Kô's "Crazed Fruit" ("Kurutta kajitsu") was the first film to explore these children, projecting their lifestyle and discontent onto the screen for all to see. Based on famed author (and current governor of Tokyo) Ishihara Shintaro's story, the sex, rough language and blind selfishness (the ultimate crime under the previous generation's Confusion code) was like a bomb in the minds of the viewing public. A new genre was born, and other films followed in suit, like Oshima Nagisa's "Cruel Story of Youth." These films are the parents of "Battle Royale" and "Suicide Circle," which still peer into the discontent of modern Japanese youth-culture.

Aside form its political and societal ramifications, "Crazed Fruit" is just a good film. Raw and beautiful, the actors clench the story in their fists and squeeze the juice. A nice blend of the subtlety of which Japanese film is so famous, blended with an unusual dynamism and sharpness. The music is almost all Hawaiian ukulele, and there is a large presence of English-speaking Westerners, something almost unheard of in Japanese film. Both of these lending a strange atmosphere to the Japanese setting.

The Criterion DVD is splendid, with an improved subtitle track that makes good use of the slang and colloquialisms so important to the youth dialog. Donald Richie, the Dean of Japanese film, gives an insightful commentary, as always. The booklet, with two separate essays, helps put the film into perspective in Japanese society.

Before this movie, anti-social behavior, defiance of authority, family dysfunction, dissolute youth, unpunished violence, immorality and sexual promiscuity, even kissing, were not seen on Japanese screens. So in 1956 when it was released, just as James Dean was rebelling in America and the New Wave washing over Europe, "Crazed Fruit" became a cause celebre in Japan, filling theatres, creating a short-lived genre and influencing future filmmakers. Seen today, we may appreciate its "daring" attitudes, editing and cinematography while at the same time containing our impatience as all the familiarities play themselves out.

At a seaside resort, a jaded youth and his innocent brother lust after a young woman who is married to an older American and who is a human cypher. The brotherly triangle is resolved with two murders, but not before a really chilling sequence in which a speedboat repeatedly circles a sailboat. This story, a tad homoerotic and (unbeknownst) told in flashback, may be cliché but the details were new to Japanese audiences (water-skiing! sunbathing! pair dancing!) and owe much to European and American movies; note the homages to George Stevens' "A Place in the Sun" (water sports, sudden swooping close-ups, that radio on the dock.)

By issuing this DVD, The Criterion Collection rightly assigns the picture its proper place in the pantheon of world cinema. Film historian Donald Richie, in his informed commentary, maybe makes more of its relevance than the movie actually earns; a second viewing with Richie is oddly more rewarding than a first viewing without him. That's because period context is crucial to our interest. "Crazed Fruit" was a breakthrough in the evolution of Japanese filmmaking; thanks to it, the movies that came after were more complex, innovative and sophisticated.

It's hardly original to portray a callous young generation that has rejected all tradition and lives in violent hedonism without any moral compass. But when a society has undergone an upheaval, that old story starts to ring especially true. Shintaro Ishihara became somewhat of a star in postwar Japan with a series of short stories that explored precisely this subject. Some of them were quickly made into films, of which Crazed Fruit is one. Its shock value may have diminished over the years, but it still has a powerful dark sensuality that hasn't dated at all.

Ishihara's writing tends toward a Mishima-like discursive style, but this film is terse and believable. Two brothers, the sons of some shady businessman or other, arrive at their summer home. They spend the days in idleness, lounging around in their house or their boat, and hanging out with their drinking, gambling friends. The friends like to flaunt their modernity and disdain for tradition in conversation. But the film finds the right note for these dialogues -- the boys talk like arrogant, pseudo-intellectual young men, not like philosophically inclined writers. They talk in order to demonstrate their swagger, without putting too much thought into the content. I actually wish that the relations between the boys were a little more developed in the film, since it catches this atmosphere of bravado so well.

The distinctions between the brothers are what one would expect from this story. The older brother is an accomplished rake and debaucher, and likes to brag about his conquests to everyone within earshot. The younger brother is naive and inexperienced, but wants to emulate his brother's cool image. But the film's depiction of these standard character types captures a few details that make them much more real. First of all, the brothers are not the chiseled movie-star types that represent Decadent Youth in French and Italian films of that time. The younger brother is handsome, but in an ordinary way, and has the boyish, sullen awkwardness of someone who just started thinking about girls instead of sports. The older brother is fairly plain in appearance, and relies entirely on his confident sneer to impress girls. But his confidence is largely an act, and when something happens that he doesn't know how to deal with, the sneer vanishes and he looks lost. It becomes clear -- much clearer than in, say, Antonioni's L'Avventura -- that these youths are not really ready for the cool and independent lifestyle that they claim for themselves.

Of course, the story needs a beautiful girl. As expected, the younger brother falls for her, but it turns out that she has a dark secret, and so on, and everything ends badly. But the film's portrayal of the girl is also interesting. In keeping with the archetype, she is older than the boy, and much more experienced. But she's not the cold, selfish, androgynous seductress of the French New Wave. She's very girlish and feminine, without the ideological exhibitionism of the boys. She is unhappy, but does not ostentatiously display her unhappiness to her lovers, unlike the New Wave heroines. Her unhappiness is not thought out at all -- she's just very confused, and ready to fall in love with anyone who shows her the least affection. It's clear that she is not intentionally deceiving the younger brother, that she really loves him. When the older brother goes after her, she feels that it's wrong and objects, but she is drawn to him anyway, despite herself.

That's the endearing thing about Ishihara's work -- his characters are nihilistic and arrogant on the surface, but deep down, they're all sentimental romantics. The cool, cynical older brother decides to play around with the girl, but quickly finds himself in over his head. The younger brother wants to be cool and cynical, but instead falls in what he thinks is true love. The girl seems like a knowing, mysterious vamp, but is actually sweet and vulnerable. She's not really any wiser than the boys.

The ending is suitably gloomy, but it's the one unsatisfying part of the film. I could see the young man bottling up his anger and hating the girl and his brother, but still, she's his first love and he can't imagine life without her -- I'd think he'd probably just break under the pressure and ignominiously crawl after her, desperately begging for affection. But, well, Ishihara was not a subtle writer, and he wanted chaos to befall his overreaching, prematurely adult characters. And there was the shock value to consider. Then again, any other ending would have probably been just as unsatisfying. In reality, this kind of story could have no ending, just a very long, painful and tedious decline. This way, at least it reflects the film's overall dark tone.

But that tone is very affecting. The scene where the younger brother takes the girl to a secluded grotto after the party is brimming with passion. There is a yearning feeling throughout the film, and it's especially strong when the setting appears casual. Like when the boy goes looking for the older brother, and finds him and his friends in a house with lazy, half-dressed girls. That languid indolence, in that radiant sunshine, is overwhelmingly intoxicating to a young man who on one hand has too much free time, and on the other hand is not confident or cynical enough to enter the world he idolizes. With the film's luxuriant setting and energetic pacing, the story becomes a forceful evocation of hungry, insecure desire.

Based on a novel by the current Governor of Tokyo, Shintaro Ishihara, and starring the governor's younger brother, Yujiro Ishihara, "Crazed Fruit" can easily rival any Oscar-winning film had Nikkatsu Corporation produced the former in the English language.

The year is 1956. The Allied Occupation of Japan has just ended, but American influence is still rife in Japanese society.

With money to burn and time to kill, a group of privileged and rebellious Japanese in their late teens and early twenties adopt a lifestyle of wine, women and song by the beach. Their unofficial leader is Frank Hirosawa (Masumi Okada), a melancholy youth whose wealthy Japanese father had divorced Frank's American mother to marry a Japanese barmaid.

Among the other members of the group are Natsuhisa (Yujiro Ishihara) and his younger brother, Haruji (Masahiko Tsugawa), who become some of Frank's closest friends. The relationship between Natsuhisa and Haruji is fine until a strikingly beautiful girl, Eri (Mie Kitahara), enters their lives.

20-year-old Eri is secretly married to an American three times her age. With her husband constantly away from Japan, Eri takes on many lovers among her Japanese acquaintances.

The virginal Haruji quickly wins Eri's heart, but his more seasoned elder brother blackmails Eri into having an affair with him at the same time.

Life becomes more complicated when Natsuhisa falls in love with Eri and Frank is forced to intervene in an attempt to end the bitter rivalry over Eri between the two brothers.

Directed by Ko Nakahira, "Crazed Fruit" showcases the immense talents of its cast members, in particular, its four lead characters -- Yujiro Ishihara, Masahiko Tsugawa, Mie Kitahara and Masumi Okada. Much of the film's success can be attributed to the brilliant performances of its cast, although "Crazed Fruit" also scores for direction, film editing, cinematography, screenplay adaptation and English subtitling.

The film's visual effects are stunning, particularly in the closing scenes, where Haruji's revenge lends a spectacular ending to a superb film.

"Crazed Fruit" helped to launch the acting careers of Masumi Okada and Masahiko Tsugawa, both of whom have since risen to become distinguished personalities in the entertainment industry.

The 1950s were a time of distrust among the adolescent and young adults where older generations and traditions became a target for suspicion. In the post-war world juvenile delinquency and resistance to the ways of the old traditions became more prominent. It was not a mere Japanese issue, as youth throughout the world, mostly in Europe and the United States began to openly express their contempt with society's old ways. Films such as Rebel without a Cause (1955) among others helped spreading the discontent with older generations to other continents. Crazed Fruits became the Japanese version of Rebel without a Cause, as it tells the story of two brothers, Natsuhisa (Yujiro Ishihara) and Haruj (Masahiko Tsugawa).

The ingenious opening by director Kô Nakahira displays a boat approaching with high speed on the calm sea while a descending sun reflects its light on the surface. A sudden cut displays the rear of the boat that demonstratively displays the velocity of the boat, as high waves are forced to the sides. The camera subsequently brings the audience to the front of the boat presenting a young man in three quarters frame while slowly focusing in on his face. This young man, Haruji, is sweating while his eyes continually shift direction with a face that radiates apprehension. It is an artistic and clever beginning, which instills both uneasiness and suspicion.

Underneath the surface, the opening scene could create a symbolic statement in regards to the youth of the 1950's, and in this case Japanese youth. Through an attempt of deciphering the scene several symbols seem to emerge. For example, the ocean provides a symbol for vastness, which could suggest the size of the society in this case. In the middle of this society, there is a boat moving rapidly that offers further symbolic notions of adolescent impatience, maybe even restlessness. In the boat there is a young man, a product of the society, if you will, enlightened by older generations. However, the young man is fearful of the society, as he swiftly scans his surroundings for possible surprises.

After the opening the film continues to tell the story about the two brothers, Natsuhisa and Haruj. The older 21-year old brother Natsuhisa is a restless spirit who does not care about school, or the values of the old traditions. He hangs out with a group of like-minded peers led by the laidback Frank who is heavily influenced by American style. Young adults such as Natsuhisa and Frank have gained the name taiyozoku, which means Sun Tribe. These rebellious youths gained this name due to their careless attitude, as they did not try to achieve anything productive. Instead they go clubbing at night, sleep all day, and spend their afternoons on the seaside water-skiing or boating. Natsuhisa's younger brother, the 16-year old brother Haruj, is more innocent and traditional in his manners, and does not like his older brother's friends.

As the story unfolds, the audience learns that the girl Eri (Mie Kitahara), plays a significant part in the film, as Haruj cannot get her out of his head after having bumped into her in the beginning of the film. He continues to think of her beauty and creates a vision of her while his brother makes fun of his infatuated manners. The second time Haruj encounters Eri is when he and his brother are water-skiing. Eri is far out from the beaches where water currents are strong, which brings to mind the possible danger of drowning. However, they pick her up and drive her ashore. This situation is loaded with symbolic meaning that brings Greek mythology to mind to which Odysseys' men had to prop their ears with wax to protect themselves. Haruj's innocence establishes a virtuous image of Eri, but his brother later learns the truth. This story eventually brings to mind Antigone by Sophocles, as the brothers seem to begin to battle for the power of the one thing they both desire.

Crazed Fruits was written by Shintarô Ishihara who gained an immense group of young followers from this book, as they could recognize themselves in the novel. The film continues in Ishihara's footsteps to illustrate a disillusioned youth that strive to find a way to change things. However, in this story they get stuck, as values and family traditions have been abandoned. Nakahira enhances the tale through brilliant cinematography and visual symbolism, which transcends the written tale into a majestic film that prompted a new wave of cinema in Japan. In the light of more modern film this groundbreaking film might seem shy, but one must take into consideration what was regarded as ok to the authorities of censorship. Nonetheless, Nakahira provides a sublime experience about rebellious youth in the backdrop of the treacherous quagmire of love.

Arguably, all Japanese film has been about the struggles between modernism and traditionalism in Japanese culture, an ambivalent struggle which subsists to this day and is a huge influence on Western ideas of postmodernism. Crazed Fruit sticks out because it's one of the most "Westernized" of them, to the point of questioning Japanese youth's forgetfulness of traditional values. In Crazed Fruit, the "traditional" only exists in parents houses... the rest of the sets, the costuming, the cars, the activities, the dialog, and the characters are very into American trends in a movie made during American occupation. The movie is stylized around the beach party movies of the 50s Americana and the existential thrillers of the French.

Two brothers are vacationing on a beach side ('vacationing' is pretty much all they do throughout the grand majority of this movie) when the younger, more innocent one, Haruji, falls for a beautiful young woman he keeps running across. Everything seems to be turning out swell for young Haruji and Eri, until his brother discovers that Eri is actually married to an Americanized businessmen. Instead of going the honorable route and telling Haruji about this fact, his brother decides to use the information as lateral to get Eri for himself. Thus starts a morbid love triangle as Eri is torn between a naive younger brother and a womanizer older brother all while hiding it from a mostly absent husband. Tragedy ensues.

It's a really well-made film, but it has its problems. Its biggest one is that none of the characters are very likeable. It's really hard to want any of them to succeed, really, which takes a lot of drama out of what is an otherwise extremely effective ending. Also, the relationship itself is a little overdramatic, the type of story that reminds today's audiences of the type of people who would appear on Jerry Springer than anything else. It's morbid ending goes a little unearned when it comes down to a jerk older brother and whiny younger fighting over a woman who can't stand up for herself.

That's not to say that it doesn't have its qualities. The music is a highlight, plus some very amazing imagery, especially beach-side. A montage of close-ups as young characters discuss the state of Japan is one of the movie's most brilliant sequences, not to mention the build-up of tension at the end.

The thing is, it's quite clear to see that at the time this came out, it would have been a shocking and unique movie for Japanese audiences. The way it portrays sexuality, the existential ending, and the break-down of family values in the older brothers' sleaze and Eri's infidelity was very unique to that time, moreso in Japan than in America. Today, however, Japanese cinema has more than moved on, and this type of story is too familiar to Western audiences. It's not too often that a foreign film feels "dated" because of the fact that they come from a different culture that has a different historical and sociological perspective. However, Crazed Fruit is, indeed, dated. It still serves as a commentary motivated through melodrama, but it's mostly interesting today for providing a useful link between the very different post-war Japanese cinema and the Japanese cinema of today; for non-Japanese cinema history people, I'm not too sure it has much to offer.

--PolarisDiB