For a film that carries the name "The Pornographers," this one isn't as provocative as one may think. Adjusting itself more towards the wavelength of a dark and comedic satire that depicts Japan's post war boom (but eventually it does turn quite dark and even creepy). Covering Japan's personal crisis with its people - regarding the conservative older generation that built the country and now the modern era of people who are young and ambitious and liberal minded in how they view sex (which is an obvious subject matter throughout). These ambitions stem from the ability to make money in modern Japan, and throughout the film we see how Yakuza gangsters come about and more importantly the underground porn makers (ultimately just trying to support their wild families). All of it sounds possible, but "The Pornographers" definitely depicts the dysfunctional world that has been created and ultimately how it relates back to humans basic instincts. So not as provocative as something like PTA's "Boogie Nights," but clearly a psychological study and a commentary on the taboos themselves during this time in Japan. There isn't an overload of sex and nudity , but more so a focus on these universal taboos in a larger context. But back to Imamura's point, our focus starts to adjust more on the concept of voyeurism. This is everything for Imamura- we aren't really worrying about the underground porn scene in Japan, that's merely a facade for those who jump to conclusions when reading the title.Throughout the film we're also being given shots of characters watching closely when they shouldn't be (through keyholes and such), and even the pornographers themselves, watching their creations intensely. The whole story comes across to me as a commentary on modern day voyeurism and what that leads too. When we're obsessing over something closely it begins to take control of us- we want more and we'll do anything to have it. This voyeuristic trait ruins us. Imamura teaches us a little bit about self control.And eventually we begin watching a movie within a movie (which is a crazy and wonderful surprise). I don't want to say too much about this because it makes for a better experience going in blind regarding this plot structure.Overall: Incredibly innovative and technical, this folded construction of a film is way ahead of its time , covering endless taboos , I'm surprised by how unpopular it still is, even through the means of modern day mediums.This is a must see.
Comparisons between Shohei Imamura's The Pornographers and Paul Thomas Anderson's Boogie Nights may seem a little on the nose at first, but dig a little deeper and there are plenty of strange similarities that years, cultures and continents between them can't blunt. Both centre on the surrogate families that spring up around the pornography business, both chart industries forced to evolve through changing technology, both find surprising warmth and humour among those living on society's fringes, and neither is remotely interested in simple titillation, instead using pornography as a backdrop to explore far more provocative, taboo-busting themes.Where Imamura differs is in introducing a deeply surreal edge that feels as though David Lynch took over from PTA halfway through and whispered in his ear to veer it towards Magnolia's emotional surrealism. Flashes of memory and fantasy, the recurring notion that a carp is the reincarnation of a dead husband, abrupt freeze frames and strange visual flourishes constantly nudge the film away from realism into something dreamlike and deeply disorientating. It's a heady concoction that passes no judgement, simply observing people whom society has labelled a menace and revealing that they're merely trying to navigate life like everyone else - only with their inhibitions stripped away and laid painfully bare.It could easily have sprawled beyond its reach. The stepdaughter's truancy and flirtation with juvenile delinquents and the yakuza threaten to steer the film towards crime drama, while the step-son's petty theft, Subuyan's incestuous longing, the ever-present fear of the police and the mounting list of customers whose orders can never quite be fulfilled all threaten to pull the narrative in different directions. Imamura, however, knows exactly when to rein things back in. Each subplot lingers just long enough to enrich the world and deepen the characters without ever distracting from his central fascination: the messy, unpredictable journey of an ordinary life.A brilliantly crazed epilogue brings everything to a close on exactly the right note, flashing forwards with a surreal flourish that perfectly encapsulates Imamura's worldview. Beneath all the grot, grime and perceived perversion lies an unexpectedly melancholy humour. Strip away the social taboos and the moral panic and these people are revealed to be no different from anyone else, carrying their own baggage, histories and desires. Their kinks may be rather more unconventional than yours or mine, but their humanity remains reassuringly familiar.
