SISTERS OF THE GION examines the desperate plight and changing ways of prostitutes in Japan
SISTERS OF THE GION (GION NO SHIMAI) (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1936)
Museum of the Moving Image
35th Ave. at 36th St., Astoria
Sunday, May 4, free with museum admission of $12, 6:30
Series runs May 2 – June 8
718-777-6800
www.movingimage.us
Based on the Russian novel Yama (The Pit) by Aleksandr Kuprin, protofeminist director Kenji Mizoguchi’s Sisters of the Gion offers a poignant look at the changing desires of women in twentieth-century Japan. In the Gion District, geisha have become one-man prostitutes, taking up with one wealthy patron at a time. When Furusawa (Benkei Shiganoya) loses his business, the bankrupt man turns away from his wife and instead goes to Umekichi (Yōko Umemura), who takes him in, believing that it is her responsibility. Her younger sister, Omocha (Isuzu Yamada), is furious, arguing that geisha, and women in general, should be more than just the playthings of men. She wants her sister instead to find a rich patron who can take care of her in style. Omocha is a manipulative woman, willing to lie to get what she thinks she and Umekichi deserve, but she is not doing it for evil reasons as much as she wants to change the plight of the geisha and give more power to women. But Umekichi cannot break free of the old-fashioned ways as Omocha plays games with successful businessman Jurakudo (Fumio Okura) and his assistant, Kimura (Taizō Fukami), devising a plot that threatens to tear everything apart. Mizoguchi fills Sisters of the Gion with long shots of narrow passageways as characters try to escape from their situations but are unable to. Made in 1936, just before a war that would change Japan’s views on houses of ill repute, the film is virtually timeless for most of its too-brief sixty-nine minutes, until one man decides to take actions into his own hands and suddenly cars and the nearby city shift the overall perspective. In the end, it’s about more than just money, although it’s definitely about that, but it’s also about respect, about common decency, and about humanity, as seen from all sides. Sisters of the Gion is screening May 4 as part of the Museum of the Moving Image’s five-week tribute to the master auteur — who made more than eighty films, less than half of which still exist — which continues through June with such other works as Song of Home, Oyuki the Virgin, White Threads of the Waterfall, The Downfall of Osen, and Straits of Love and Hate.
In the historical romantic drama Vincere, Italian master filmmaker Marco Bellocchio delivers the little-known real-life story of Ida Alser (Giovanna Mezzogiorno), Benito Mussolini’s (Filippo Timi) first wife and the mother of Il Duce’s first-born son, Benito Albino (Fabrizio Costella). Alser and Mussolini first meet in Milan in 1907, when she is a fashion and beauty entrepreneur and he is a newspaper journalist championing a religion-free Socialist. They feel an immediate connection and have passionate meetings. Soon they have a child and are married. But as Mussolini’s power in the Fascist movement grows, he takes a more traditional wife (Michela Cescon) and has another child, disavowing any relationship with Ida and young Benito and going to any lengths to cover up their very existence. Set amid the swirling turmoil that pervaded Italy during the two World Wars, Vincere, featuring an epic score by Carlo Crivelli, is a beautifully shot melodrama (courtesy of cinematographer Daniele Ciprì), able to focus on two strong, unrelenting characters who know what they want – and what they don’t. Bellocchio interweaves archival newsreel footage, lending the film not only more reality but firmly placing it in historical context. Mezzogiorno is brilliant as Alser, a modern-day woman ahead of her time who fought for what she believed in and what she deserved, even if it meant going up against one of the most powerful men in the world. Vincere is screening on May 4 & 7 as part of MoMA’s Bellocchio retrospective, held in conjunction with the upcoming U.S. release of his latest film, Dormant Beauty, which opens June 6 at Lincoln Plaza. The series continues through May 7 with such other Bellocchio works as The Conviction, Vacation in Val Trebbia, A Leap in the Dark, and Dormant Beauty.
Now: In the Wings on a World Stage, the marvelous new documentary that follows a transatlantic company as it performs Richard III around the globe, did not get its name only because it’s the first word of Shakespeare’s classic tragedy — “Now is the winter of our discontent” — nor simply because it takes place in modern times in modern dress with nods to modern technology, but also because it’s a spine-tingling celebration of the immediacy of live theater. In 2009, Sam Mendes’s Neal Street Productions, the Old Vic under the leadership of Kevin Spacey, and the Brooklyn Academy of Music, led by Joseph Melillo, formed a partnership in which British and American actors would present five classic plays over three years. Dubbed the Bridge Project, the wildly successful venture concluded in 2012 with Spacey, an American living and working in London, starring in 
“I need to be kind of weird to photograph people all the time without permission, because it’s very aggressive, and I have to do it,” street photographer Matt Weber says at the beginning of Dan Wechsler’s fun documentary More Than the Rainbow, adding, “And you have to be kind of a psycho.” Wechsler — a filmmaker and rare bookseller who, with George Koppelman, has just claimed to have discovered William Shakespeare’s annotated dictionary — follows Weber around New York, primarily in the subways and Coney Island, as the former taxi driver tries to capture the spirit of the city on film, looking for unique shots that can come and go in a flash. Wechsler speaks with such other photographers as Ralph Gibson, who waxes poetic about the art form, sometimes in French; Dave Beckerman, who gave up a successful business career to shoot on the streets; Philadelphia’s Zoe Strauss, whose “10 Years” exhibition was recently at ICP; Jeff Mermelstein, a street photographer who shoots mostly in color; critic and photographer Ben Lifson, who passed away last year; Cuban-born photographer Julio Mitchel; and, most curiously, San Francisco–based fetish photographer Erik Kroll, who doesn’t care for Weber’s work. Weber, who has been photographing the city since 1978, is also shown collaborating with Todd Oldham, who is designing a book on Weber’s subway series. All of the photographers discuss the relative merits of color versus black-and-white, whether they ask people for permission before taking their pictures, and the inherent differences between analog and digital. The film often strays too far from its main subject, Weber, losing sight of itself in its effort to cover too much in a mere eighty-three minutes, but it usually gets back on track, particularly with lovely 35mm interstitial trips through the city, in color and black-and-white, set to the music of Thelonius Monk and Keith Gurland, courtesy of John Rosenberg, who edited the film and music and shot the documentary with Arlene Muller. Especially in an age when everyone thinks he or she is a photographer, snapping photos with camera phones and posting them on social media sites, More Than a Rainbow shows how it’s really done. The film opens at the Quad on May 2, with Wechsler and Weber participating in Q&As following the 8:30 screenings on Friday and Saturday.
