The Naked Island begins, after a credit sequence showing us the island itself, with a gorgeous shot of a man and a woman silhouetted against the dawn light, rowing across from an island to the mainland. They collect water and then row back. On their arrival they climb up steep sides, buckets hung from rods across their backs. They feed their children and water sweet potatoes. This whole sequence is delivered in silence.
This is not a film overly concerned with plot or incident. It’s a document of a way of life that was almost certainly dying when the film was made in 1960 and is likely gone now. Shindo recognises the hardships that the husband (Taiji Tonoyama), the wife (Nobuko Otowa) and two young children go through to live this way, but his camera revels in the beauty of their surroundings and celebrates the simplicity with which they live.
Simplicity runs through the film in another way: it is devoid of spoken dialogue. It’s a tough thing to pull off, but Tonoyama’s and Otowa’s expressive faces mean you don’t miss an emotional moment. The silence does become an issue towards the end. As incident intrudes the idea that people wouldn’t speak, along with Shindo’s use of editing, things seem a little contrived.
These are the sole missteps in Shindo’s direction. The film is beautiful, setting the stark beauty of the island against the slowly encroaching modernity of the mainland in a way that subtly speaks volumes.
Extras
Masters of Cinemas have given this film stellar treatment. There are only minor issues with the print and the HD transfer is rich in detail, allowing vistas to go on for miles. The extras feature a commentary track, recorded in 2000. Shindo talks engagingly about the production and the location, and along with a 9-minutes-long introduction from filmmaker Alex Cox it makes for a solid, if small, selection of extras. Overall, it’s an outstanding package.
Sam has awarded The Naked Island five Torches of Truth
