Film The Fruit of Silence, Kyoko (1978-1979)

Film The Fruit of Silence, Kyoko (1978-1979)

The film "Kyoko," shown at the end of 1978 at the Science Museum Hall in Takebashi, Tokyo, symbolized the quiet heat that Japanese cinema of that era was facing. Based on the novel by Yukichi Furui. The director, Mutsuto Ban, transcribed the style of the novel, which seems to hunt down the folds of the human heart, into a film. The cast includes Sayoko Yamaguchi and Hatsune Ishihara. Filmmaker Hitoshi Tatsumura appeared as a guest, and for one night only, a place where literature and images intersect appeared.

Sayoko Yamaguchi is already known as an international model, and just by standing there, the screen took on an unusual stillness. Her presence was stronger than words, and she became a symbol of beauty that floated on the border between light and shadow, clothing and skin. Through her appearance, the film transcended narrative and approached poetry.

At this time, Japanese cinema was wavering between these two trends. One was the wave of entertainment represented by the Kadokawa films, and the other was the experimentation of expression through ATG and independent screenings. In between these two trends, "Kyoko" chose to depict the depths of human nature in silence. The fact that the film was screened at the Science Museum Hall rather than a commercial movie theater was in itself a sign of the film's will to free itself from the box office.

The participation of Hitoshi Tatsumura was also significant. He is a filmmaker later known for "Symphony of the Earth," and has continued his attempts to reflect the breathing of human beings and nature. The same "rhythm of life" resides in the quiet flow of time depicted in "Kyoko.

At the end of the 1970s, Japanese society had passed through the dazzle of rapid economic growth and was beginning to experience a spiritual vacuum. Political ideals had faded away, and the city, despite its myriad lights, was somehow cold. The silence of "Kyoko" was like a deep breath of air in such an era.

In retrospect, "Kyoko" is a testament to a time when literature and film could still speak to each other with respect, before sinking into the shadows of commercialism. The fruits of silence were quietly ripening on the screen that winter.