January 30, 2012: “Letters From Iwo Jima”

I believe that as we get older we have an obligation to become better persons. In youth, we can play the “inexperience card” and mostly get away with it, but as adults, we all know better. We’ve lived life enough to know what is expected of us, we’ve committed those indiscretions of youth and hopefully have learned from them. We should carry the obligation to become better at everything we do, until time robs us of that ability.

How very interesting to have lived enough to observe an individual’s growth from the world of entertainment. Like most young American men of my generation, I was fond of the older films of Clint Eastwood. I think the overt macho, rugged individual-hero male roles he played back then, acted as some kind of weird cultural catharsis to most young men struggling with their own identity in the 70-80′s. Once and a while, I take one of these films out and honestly, now they fall a bit flat. I hope that shows my own personal growth.

I think the choices Mr. Eastwood has made the last few years reflect his own personal growth as well. I adored “Forgiven” when it came out in 1992. Will Money’s anti-hero, struggling with his bad past, trying to become a better person, was just pitch-perfect. I also liked “Gran Torino” (possibly Clint’s last acting role) which showed him as the tough and bigoted lone man, reminiscent of his earlier roles, but also showed a depth of his character as he grows to learn about and care for, the Cambodian family living next door.

I think that consideration of the “other” is also shown in Clint’s production of “Letters From Iwo Jima” which was made back-to-back with the American story of that particular conflict: “Flags of Our Father’s.” “Letters From Iwo Jima” is told from the Japanese side. With that in mind, many Americans will find “LFIJ” to be  bit uncomfortable, as it shows Americans as the invaders. Americans, in this story, are literally the “other.” Iwo Jima, in 1944 may have been a worthless volcanic piece of rock, but it was Japanese soil and this conflict was the Allies first incursion into Japan, proper. A vicious battle, Iwo Jima claimed 40,000 killed or injured men on both sides. I’ve seen some commenters labeling “LFIJ” as “revisionist” saying how evil and vicious the Japanese were during WWII. I have a first-hand account from a much-loved and trusted American man (now passed on) that atrocities were committed on both sides during this conflict. I know that is hard to hear, but I also know it to be the truth.

Although there are a number of interesting side characters in “LFIJ” the main stories surround commanding General Kuribashi (played very well by Ken Wantanabe) and reluctant baker-turned-soldier Saigo (played equally well by Japanese pop-star Kazunari Ninomiya.) The beginning of the film sets these characters well, as the “Letters’ reveal Kuribashi’s concern (at the eve of the battle of his life) to his wife that he didn’t have time to lay the kitchen floor, while Saigo writes of his concern to his wife that the hole he is digging might well be his own grave.

The story continues on. As always I don’t want to give too much away, but one caveat: this IS a war film. War is men at their worst (and rarely and remarkably, men at their best!)  Mr. Eastwood does not shy away from any viewpoint, much to his credit. I’m not so sure that “Letters From Iwo Jima” is history, per se, but it’s damn good cinema.

One lesson that “Letters From Iwo Jima” brings up is one very familiar to me;
“Do what is right because it is right.” This is pretty safe ground for me. But, the film also raises one question that continues to haunt me:  ”In war, do you follow your own convictions…or your country’s?”

November 30, 2011: “American Pastime”

There is this prejudice I just have to get over, and that is that I have it in my mind that I hate any film that has a sports orientation. Although a rather harmless one, and certainly only affecting me,  like most prejudices they exist only in the mind, have little to do with reality, and invariably limit growth. So, there were these two movies on the library shelf that I have been avoiding forever, even ‘tho I was pretty sure that a part of me would really like them. The first was “Invictus” that I saw last month. Loved it. C’mon. Morgan Freeman as Nelson Mandela? One of my most favorite poems in the title? Why did I wait so long? And, after that experience, why did I wait another month to try “American Pastime?” Why? Well, that’s the part of myself  I struggle with.

“American Pastime” begins as a an American utopia: it’s title sequence uses a blend of documentary footage of 1941 combined with movie stills to tell a quick story of a group of young integrated friends as they grow up in California. The movie starts as these friends are hanging out upstairs, talking about their loves: jazz, baseball, and their favorite movie stars. Their parents are downstairs organizing a cookout for them all. I love the quick pan of the food on the table where you get to see corn on the cob, spaghetti with sauce, and riceballs (and what I think is okonomiyaki!!!) all together on one table. This is an America that was supposed to be. Unfortunately, December 7th, 1941, the “Day of Infamy,” changed all of that.

Within the first few minutes of the film, the Nomura family (father, mother, and two teenage brothers) are packed up, along with 120,000 others of Japanese-Americans, told to sell all they own, and are shipped off inland, the Nomuras to Utah to be interred in the Topaz Relocation Center.

I’ve written about this black chapter of American history before in my article “Kiri’s Piano” and I readdress it here, because I still find it hard to believe that America interred it’s own citizens with no proof of collusion with an enemy. Yes, America was at war, but we were at war with the Germans and Italians at the same time, yet only Japanese-Americans were interred.

The Nomura family, along with their fellow internees, try to form a sense of normalcy in their new and rather bleak surroundings. The deal with the bigotry of not only their guards, but also a few of the townspeople, as they go into town to buy supplies to improve their camp. One of the things I like about “American Pastime” is that the bigotry is dealt with in a realistic way. They show people the way they really are: not every one of the townspeople is hostile, some of those who are, change to the better. Some will simply, never let go of their hatred. The bond that all the people have in common is the game. Baseball is the cultural glue of the American people and as long as you play well (physically and ethically) it doesn’t matter what your heritage is. Dignity and mutual respect can be achieved through excellence.

“American Pastime” is not a perfect movie. It tries a little too hard to stuff many worthwhile topics into the film: bigotry in time of war: issues between fathers and sons, between brothers, between lovers: all very noble topics, but a little too much for one film. Still if you like dramas based on real life, or (unlike me) have no issues with sports films, “American Pastime” could be the film for you.

Check out the “making of” part of the DVD. They interview some of the Japanese-American heroes of the 422nd Regimental Combat Team (the  most decorated in US Armed history.) They also interview the actors, and to quote one who sums up well the notion that dignity can come through a game says, “There are more important things in life, but sometimes it takes a game to understand them.”

October 03, 2011: Japan’s “Schindler”

Photo: Courtesy of the Chiune Sugihara Museum; Kaunas, Lithuania

Last night, I once again pulled out one of the gems of my movie archives: “Schindler’s List” (1993). This is one of those films that I love, but I really have to be in the right mood for, as I spend most of it in tears. Part of the tears are from being so disappointed with the hate that humanity can have towards his fellow-man; part is from the bravery that individuals can have within the clutches of such hate; and part is for the admiration that one person (if they can find the strength to actually go against the “norm”) can have on the world. So, at the end of the film, Oskar Schindler has saved 1.100 Jews and is honored as one of the “Righteous Among the Nations” in Israel. I think it is the power of the story and Mr. Spielberg’s film that after, I asked myself, “OK, so who else is honored?” Usually, questions like these lead to research, and this particular research lead to yet another one of history’s forgotten heroes of this period.

Kaunas, Lithuania, shortly before Chanukah 1939

Solly Ganor is an 11-year-old jewish boy living in Kaunas. His parents had emigrated from Russia years before, from the Russian revolution. His family is fairly well off from their business of textile import/export, but Solly, concerned about Jewish refugees streaming in from Poland, (which has been recently invaded by the Nazis) has given away all his allowance to the refugee boards to help. Solly goes to his aunt’s gourmet food shop to borrow some money for a film. In the shop, talking to his aunt, a stranger overhears his plight and kindly offers the money to Solly. The well-dressed gentleman has been in the shop to pick up a few items for dinner. Solly is struck by three things, the man’s generosity, his kind eyes, and that he is clearly from another place than Kaunas. The man is in fact, Japanese Vice-Counsel Chiune Sugihara. To return the favor, Solly invites the Vice-Counsel and his wife to celebrate Chanukah with his family. Years later, Chiune and his wife Yukiko remember the festival of lights spent with the Ganor family: the songs, the ceremony, the cakes, the stories, the fun. Far from home and their own family, the easy welcome of a sweet boy and the Jewish family makes an impact on the Japanese couple.

Later, after the Nazis invade Lithuania, the Ganor family was sent to Dachau, and sadly only Solly and his father survived. Ironically, it is the Japanese-Americans of the 522nd Field Artillery Battalion, men who have been interred by their own country who free the two Ganors from Dachau. To this day, Solly Ganor cannot look upon a Japanese man without experiencing feelings of affection, friendship, and gratitude.

The Dutch Connection:

A half year after the Chanukah with the Ganor family, on June 15, 1940, the Nazis invade Lithuania and now the combined Polish immigrants plus Lithuania’s own Jews are in danger. Russia orders all foreign ambassadors to leave Lithuania. Only Dutch counsel Jan Zwartendijk and Vice-Counsel Chiune stay as they hatch a plan together to try to save the Jews of both Poland and Lithuania: two Dutch colonies, Curacao and Dutch Guiana (now Suriname) do not need entrance visas. The only way out is to the east, through Russia, via the trans-Siberian railway. The Russians will allow the Jews through their country, but not to stay. The Jews need a destination before they can go to the Dutch islands. Japan is the answer.

An Outright Refusal Followed by an Outright Insubordination:

Vice-Counsel Sugihara asks for and is denied leniency for the Jews three times by his native Japan. Tokyo’s Foreign Ministry states in no uncertain terms that the visas to Japan must not be issued. Risking his career and his future and chancing imprisonment (or worse) for not only himself, his wife, and his family, Sugihara, for the next month, tirelessly issues thousands of visas for Europe’s Jews. Often, he works 18-20 hour days, rarely eating, pausing only to have his wife massage his aching fingers, tired from signing visas. He is even signing visas on the way to the rail station, as he is forced to leave, and passing them out the car window to people. At the end he has signed blank sheets of papers and gives these, with his seal of office, to an assistant. Before he leaves, he bows deeply to the crowd and apologizes for not having done more. In the end, Vice-Counsel Chiune Sugihara has saved in excess of 6000 Jews!

Obscurity and a Final Tribute:

As a valuable diplomat and translator, Japan used Sugihara’s services until the end of the war, but then, summarily dismissed him. Sugihara worked as a part-time translator and even struggled for a while selling light bulbs door-to-door. The final decades of his life he worked as a manager of an export company that had dealing with Moscow. He never mentioned his dealings in Lithuania and his friends and neighbors never knew of him as an extraordinary man. It was not until 1969 when a man that was saved by Sugihara, hunted him down to thank him, and together with hundreds of other Jews that were saved by him, persuaded Israel to give Sugihara (like Schindler)  the honor of “Righteous of the Nations” in 1985. Sugihara passed away the following year. It was only when a huge delegation of Jews, from around the world, showed up at Sugihara’s funeral that his friends and neighbors had any idea of his contribution to mankind.

Before his death, and forty-five years after his actions in Lithuania, he was asked the eternal question, “Why?” To this, he replied his simple devotion, “They were human beings and they needed help.”