As a vicious depiction of a town and its deep-rooted traditions, The Ballad of Narayama is an unmitigated triumph; unfortunately, it’s not as successful at bringing the viewer to care for these (frequently) miserable souls. Less a ballad than a brutal cultural portrait, it’s always gripping…and frequently difficult to stomach. Set in a snowy valley in 19th century rural Japan, a crowded small village deals with the threat of overpopulation by town edict—when a townsperson reaches the age of 70, they’re sent to the mountaintop to Narayama to die an “honorable death.” While most villagers accept—indeed, look forward to—their fate as a badge of lifetime achievement, it’s clear that the younger generation isn’t quite as sold. Tatsuhei (Ken Ogata) sees his 69 year-old mother Orin (Sumiko Sakamota) calmly prepare for her voyage with mixed emotions, emotions that spill into the climactic final 20 minute piggyback ride up the mountain.

Director Shohei Imamura spends much of the movie’s first 2/3′s illustrating the way of life that consumes these simple folks, and what we see is nothing short of horrifying. Because food is so scarce, “excessive” babies are discarded in the soil and used as fertilizer (boys), or sold off to neighboring villages (girls). Provisions are strictly rationed and when one family is caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar (hoarding tons of extra potatoes), they’re mercilessly buried alive as punishment. Only firstborns are permitted to marry in order to keep childbirth down, and Stinker, the smelly, lazy younger brother, is insulted and beaten down at every opportunity. Is it any wonder that out of loneliness and desperation, he fucks a dog?

Imamura periodically juxtaposes sequences of nature—such as a snake eating a rodent or a hawk swooping in to snatch its prey from the grass—with the moment-to-moment struggles of the townspeople. By doing so, he’s indicating that even seemingly unfathomable actions may just be part of natural existence, but that anything can be turned upside down (sometimes, the shots indicate the seemingly weaker of the animals coming out on top). The cinematography is breathtaking—Imamura deserves major kudos for his visual flair—and the thought process deserves major kudos, but where Imamura falls short from an execution perspective is in the complete lack of empathy that The Ballad of Narayama evokes. For such a powerful human tale, there’s shockingly little to latch onto or care about. Nearly every character is unrelentingly savage (or the helpless-but-fleeting victim of savage behavior), and while I can appreciate the eloquence of the story, the endless beatings and misogyny wore me down. By the time Tatsuhei and Orin (the lone semi-sympathetic figure in the film) take the trek up Mount Narayama for Orin’s , it feels like a missed opportunity. Had Imamura eschewed some of the earlier suffering for mere glimpses of warmth, it would have been a dynamic ending (there are some breathtaking shots) worthy of The Ballad of Narayama‘s numerous strong points. Instead, it’s a massive tease, a frustrating ending to a good movie that could have been truly great.

66/10