A candid take on the daily life of a peasant worker couple in Japan that centres on water. Living on a tiny island, farming its steep landscape, water soon becomes the focus of film. The couple make what seems to be constant trips to the shore to return with water. A film without much dialogue, this is about the suffering and a work ethic that hasn't changed since the earliest days of the Emperor. We do see glimpses of technology during trips to the mainland, but this could be a period film from any era in the past few hundred years. I really enjoyed this film, not only does it provide a glimpse of a distant life but also brought back memories of the desolate (but superb) Onibaba. Of course the lead actress later went on to star in that film.
The scene of the husband running as fast as he can to locate the doctor on the island are an artistic feat. A very moving film; I have been thinking about it since I watched it. In brief: thinking about politics, the family unit, the individual, community, love, severity and beauty of existence and of nature.
The special features on the DVD reveal interesting contextual notes: that Kaneto Shindo was prolific, not choosy about what genre (dare to say even quality) film he made using money from the popular films to finance his more artistic projects. This film was shot on a shoestring budget; it won the Grand Prize at the 1960 Moscow Film Festival.
Hghly recommend this for anyone interested in how we live our daily lives.
Kaneto Shindo’s The Naked Island is a beautifully shot and creative look at the daily struggles of a family living on a tiny, remote island in Japan, whose survival depends on rowing to the mainland, collecting water from a well, and rowing back, a tough, exhausting routine that feels almost Sisyphean in its relentlessness, told with a documentary feel and entirely without dialogue. In fact, you need to keep reminding yourself that this isn’t a documentary but a work of fiction.
One of the film’s standout scenes occurs when the family goes to town to sell the fish the boys have caught. Here, they are the fish out of water, particularly when they stop to watch television through a shop window, a striking moment highlighting the gulf between their isolated, traditional way of life and the modern world. Given their way of life, moments like these remind you that this isn’t some film about an ancient way of life but set within living memory.
While much of the film relies on repetition and rhythm, its shocking ending delivers an emotional gut punch. When tragedy strikes and death disrupts their carefully maintained balance, the plot finally comes into focus, revealing the depth of the family's resilience and sorrow. The impact of this moment is heightened by the film’s earlier quietness and restraint, making it all the more devastating.
The onscreen activity is so mesmerising that I almost didn’t notice the lack of dialogue. With a hauntingly modern score, the film creates a hypnotic and profoundly immersive atmosphere. It’s a striking piece of cinema.