I mentioned my dislike for war-oriented movies on the previous installment of Old Academy Anew, and even though Sayonara (1957) has the Korean War as background there’s nothing war-like about it— unless you count the race war, but we’ll get to that later. It’s a movie about military men, living in a military world, life in camo is fantastic.
C’mon, Brando, let’s go party. Nope. We are not doing that.
December, usually a time to reflect on the things we have learned along the year. But between the holidays and nostalgia, a lot falls between the cracks. Here on Old Academy Anew we’ve been looking at the past to understand our present. And (hopefully?) sometimes foresee the future. The past could be hurtful, messy, or even a nightmare. Still, we ought to appreciate the goodness in the darkest moments. Even those have lessons if we are willing to embrace them.
Wait there was something about dolls and the fetishization (is that even a word?) of human beings… Funny enough, The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) which won the Best Picture category that year, also deals with Japanese characters although from a completely different perspective because the Allies are in the middle of WW2 there and in our movie of the month they’ve already won that worldwide conflagration. You know that saying about who (actually) writes history and stuff.
BRANDO
Sayonara deals with prejudice and racism, and who better to embody that than a 20th century good ol’ Air Force Major from the South, right? Major Lloyd “Ace” Gruver (Marlon Brando) from Virginia has been successfully defeating whoever the US of A is fighting in the Korean War when all of the sudden he’s transferred to a base in Japan. Sudden, but not without reason, his fiancée’s daddy has decided to put him out of harm’s way so Gruver can make an honest woman of the General’s red-headed child. Yeah, nepotism is a thing in this movie.
Now, before Gruver is sent to the Land of the Rising Sun, he’s entrusted by some random high-ranking officer to talk to his man, Airman Joe Kelly (Red Buttons), and make him desist from his irrational idea of marrying a Japanese woman. I mean, how dare he threaten the purity of the American Race with exotic flavors and strong genetics? Inconceivable (in this 1951)!
“You play with them. You don’t marry them, boy!”
I want to make an aside here to address the spirit of Mr. Buttons because when I saw the name I thought it was a pseudonym for one of the Japanese female characters. Very un-woke of me, and I deeply apologize. Upon further investigation, it was indeed a pseudonym because he was born Aaron Chwatt, but that’s neither here nor there; the apology stands.
Major Gruver and Airman Kelly start their exchange like this, “Yeah, my Congressman. Shocking ain’t it, Major? Chaplain says ‘don’t marry that girl.’ Colonel says, ‘don’t marry that girl.’ You say, ‘don’t marry that girl.’ Congressman says, ‘You marry that girl, Kelly.’ What can I do?” To what Brando responds, “I’ll tell you what you can do, boy. Go home and marry your Congressman. You’d be better off.”
Was screenwriter Paul Osborn seeing the future? When you think about this dispassionately, the situation could be equal to the attitude of the military before “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” ended.
Seriously, first, it was race, then sexuality and in the future, it will probably be about something else because you can’t have armed forces without conflict of some nature to keep them pumped. Gruver proceeds to show Kelly a picture of an American girl in case Kelly has forgotten what they look like. Gruver exalts all the virtues (and endowments) of American women while showing a very pin-up posed image of Eileen (Patricia Owens), his fiancée. Kelly then asks, “Hey, you’d ever seen Katsumi?”
“Where’s that?” Ace looks confused.
“It’s not a where’s that. It’s the girl I’m marrying.” Kelly shows Gruver a picture of a smiling kimono-wearing girl.
The only thing Gruver finds to say about her is, “Yeah… Looks like a bright girl.”
Unfazed, Kelly counters, “She’s a whole lot brighter than me.”
“Well, that ain’t too hard to do, you know.” Ace puts a serious face and asks Kelly if he has considered the risks of doing what he’s set to do.
Previously we learned Kelly has been promoted and demoted three times already. Why hasn’t he been sent away from Japan? Why hasn’t his request to return to the country to marry the girl been denied? Silly questions because if Kelly’s superiors acted with any logic we wouldn’t have a movie, would we?
Nevertheless, Kelly tells Gruver he’s done with the powers that be who ganged up on him about his choice of bride.
When Gruver asks him to explain, Kelly grabs pamphlets sent his way with explicit titles like “Think it over, Americans”; “Things you are required to know and do before marrying Orientals”; “But will your family accept it?” Here I was having Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007) PTSD flashbacks, smack dab in the middle of Dolores Umbridge’s office.
Their back and forth continues a bit more until Kelly states he’d even give up his American citizenship for his girl (how sacrilegious!). Gruver tells him that giving that up for this or any girl is just nuts. Wiseass Kelly just answers, “Maybe that’s because you don’t feel as strong about your girl as I do mine.”
Gruver’s face is priceless in its confused self-examination because at the end of the day, he’s just following a road others have designed for him, in direct contrast with Kelly, who’s forging his own path no matter what.
Gruver and Kelly fly together to the Kobe Air Force base and part ways when the Major is greeted by the fiancée’s parents, Daddy General and Momma Business. But not before Kelly asks him to be his best man, which Gruver reluctantly accepts.
Gruver already knows his girl is in Japan too, but he’s supposed to act surprised when they make him get in the car first and she’s there waiting for him. What follows is a very uncomfortable situation because Gruver grabs Eileen and kind of manhandles her in the way guys do when they go to Make Out Point. I mean Momma Business is right beside them, and I was worried he’d finger blast the daughter with her blessing if the car encountered any bump on the road. Geesh.
The four alight at the Officers’ Club, and here is where we have our first encounter with a Japanese national in the form of pretty Fumiko (Reiko Kuba) being basically humiliated by an asshole officer not allowing Captain Mike Bailey (James Garner) to take her in. Momma Business clutches her pearls with a “What’s she doing here?” and Daddy General is sent to intervene. Some “This is only for Americans” nonsense is spouted, and Captain Bailey leaves with his cute friend to enjoy the evening somewhere else. Now, Daddy General is not rude or condescending, but his “Sorry, son. That’s the way things are done” attitude is frustrating. Worst of all, he carries it along with the movie every time he’s faced with uncomfortable situations.
Luckily for me back in the 90s, military boys (and girls, tee hee) signed me in to have fun at the Officers’ Clubs in the bases we used to have in Panama.
MPs might’ve looked at me askance but you were allowed to bring guests to the base, so… yeah, that happened.
Once the Japanese offender is sent on her way, Momma Business cheerfully informs Gruver that Eileen is taking him to the Kabuki Theater because the lead actor, Mr. Nakamura (Ricardo Montalbán), has invited her. I wonder about Momma Business. Is she just a snob, who would gladly interact with the Japanese Elite (as shown by her enthusiasm about the famous actor), belittling anyone who she thinks is below her station; or her problem with the girl was because she saw her as a savage trying to ensnare an American warrior? Or is she the kind of woman who would always put men before women, even her own daughter? Whatever her story, actress Martha Scott successfully made me want to punch her character in the face whenever she was present.
Gruver and Eileen go to the all-male Kabuki Theater, and the movie has fun showing us the cultural differences between the two nations… Gruver was surprised by mothers waving baby rattlers for infants and people eating from food containers while watching the performance. Meanwhile, the Japanese seated close to them were disturbed by Gruver and Eileen’s PDA. Although not as strong as when they were in the car thankfully. After the play, the couple and Nakamura are together in the actor’s suite when the movie tries to pass what we today know as simple ancestral Japanese courtesy for flirtation from Nakamura to Eileen.
When the attention is turned to Gruver, the Major says the play could have used a little more Marilyn Monroe here and there.
“Unfortunately, Miss Monroes were barred from Kabuki in the 17th century,” answers Nakamura in an extraordinary display of patience and politeness, and adding after Gruver’s wrong-footed apology that he is also an admirer of hers.
Eileen and Gruver’s night continues with them having a sumptuous meal at an open-air restaurant. Once done, they move to the garden where their conversation turns into an argument about the difference between love and fulfilling others’ expectations, bringing us back to Kelly’s snarky remark about Gruver not loving Eileen enough. Gruver might want her because she has all the right parts (talking genitals here), and also their fathers have been friends and colleagues for a long time. He’s probably more in love with the idea of a wife than with Eileen specifically, and she notices and it’s not happy about it. They do not openly break up but the relationship will go downhill from there.
Katsumi (Miyoshi Umeki) and Kelly get married, and we learn this man is not a singular nut.
The establishment has made the process extremely convoluted to make those involved “lose steam,” and yet about 10,000 men have gone through with it. The movie has tried hard to make us believe that Gruver is some kind of hero and therefore the men look up to him; thus, his participation as best man/witness could set a bad example. Momma Business and Daddy General call him to discuss his bad behavior.
Nevertheless, it appears to be more about Gruver and Eileen being apart for way too many days and what in the gosh darn hell is happening between them. Eileen comes home, and Gruver tries to invite her to dinner. She refuses, citing unavoidable commitments for several days. Gruver goes to a bar (as men do when rejected by their women) and encounters our old Japanese-lover Captain Bailey, who will play a very interesting role in the ensuing events.
Before we move to the next item, let me note how freaking handsome James Garner looks in this movie.
I know that after A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) Brando became a sex symbol and all that jazz, but I did not find him especially appealing in this movie. He mumbles his lines with a particularly annoying twang that kept reminding me of Matthew McConaughey. In fact, I kept waiting for him to sling an “Alright. Alright. Alright.” Distracting, very distracting.
MONTALBAN
Many moons ago, a photographer friend and I discussed the merits of images versus words. Naturally, we’ve all been bombarded with the adage “A picture is worth a thousand words” for eons. Yet with a single word you can change the meaning of any image. My photographer friend was not happy after that conversation. But my point is, context is always important.
When I learned that Ricardo Montalbán played a Japanese character in this movie, memories of Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961) and the Mickey Rooney debacle came to mind. Still, I wondered whose casting couch Montalbán was riding at the time to land a role like that. Let’s be honest, we all know the stories of Old Hollywood, and we can try to be all morally superior in this century, but things happened. And we’re going to be walking that spunky road again pretty soon if we keep erasing history.
Some people might say, well, Montalbán is not white because he’s Mexican. To what I retort, you know if you’re a European descendant you’re still technically Caucasian, regardless of birthplace, right?
Was it wrong at the time? Let’s have a little context. I mentioned before that the winner of Best Movie in 1957 was The Bridge on the River Kwai— in that movie several Japanese actors played important roles. Could it be internationally known Japanese actors were engaged in a different project and that’s why they called Montalbán to tackle the role? Probably. Is it wrong that a none-Asian was playing a Kabuki actor? Montalbán was superb in his Kabuki scenes. Did I hate the prosthetics to slant his eyes? Totally, but because they looked stupid.
My thing is: this was a common practice of the era. Jennifer Jones played a Chinese doctor in Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing (1955). Even our beloved Marlon Brando played a pixie-like Japanese translator named Sakini in The Teahouse of the August Moon (1956) just a year before playing southern macho Major Gruver. Google it; it’s disturbing.
The whole premise of being an actor is becoming someone else. Do we really need to hate people who did what they could at the time they lived?
Diversity was a rare thing then. Today, it should be a different story. But we still don’t need to raise a stink about every casting choice out there. We have become too accustomed to judging an image or a 30-second video without further investigation. Remember. Find the context.
JAPAN
After a heart-to-heart, Captain Bailey takes Major Gruver to see the pretty girls of the all-female Matsubayashi Theater Company who cross a bridge every day. His friend Fumiko happens to be one of the main dancers of the company. Surprised, Gruver sees people asking a girl in American western garb for autographs. You know, Nakamura dressed like a woman is Shakespearean but the other way around is just weird. Nevertheless, Hana-ogi (Miiko Taka), the pretty woman in boy-drag and top performer of the mysterious group is the one that catches his eye. Bailey takes him to see their performance and smitten cannot begin to describe Gruver’s state by the end of the show. Back at the bridge, they wait to see the girls retrace their steps. Katsumi and Kelly’s arrival gives Gruver the perfect opportunity for an introduction since Katsumi is a super fan and knows Hana-ogi.
Well, bad news, cowboy. Hana-ogi won’t speak to any American because they shot her brother and killed her father with their bombs.
Gruver utters what any red-blooded American of today would absolutely say. “But I didn’t do it.” Then Bailey points out, “Sure you did, Ace. We all did it.” Dun Dun Dun. Later on, we discover that Hana-ogi’s story is way more complicated than just “American Assholes They Killed Family.” However, this is a two-and-a-half-hour movie, and we ain’t doing a play-by-play. Suffice to say that in high contrast to Hana-ogi, Fumiko has no qualms about breaking the rules because she can’t help herself. “Captain Bailey is so tall,” she giddily confesses to Gruver. “Well, he— he’s a big boy, alright,” accepts the Major uncomfortably. We feel yah, girl. He yummy.
Beautifully filmed, we explore through Gruver’s untrained eyes the wonders of the country. Not just the vistas but also the culture via his experiences and interactions along the way.
Now you need to remember that this is a post-WW2 Japan, basically an occupied country. The clash between the American way of trampling on everything doesn’t match their vision of life and the way of the Japanese. Still, there are moments when it feels like a long-ass tourism ad. Especially with the constant naming of places the common moviegoer won’t remember two minutes after hearing them.
Sayonara is the adaptation of the 1954 novel with the same title, and I have a bone to pick with James Michener, who wrote the novel. As well as screenwriter Paul Osborn. Out of respect for the Japanese, Gruver, Kelly, and Bailey’s names could’ve been changed to anything not starting with an L sound. As it’s a complicated sound for them. Beautiful Hana-ogi saying, “Roid-san” was not cute. And stop laughing.
HUMANITY
That thing about keeping trying until you succeed shouldn’t apply to a person pursuing another. Let alone when the person being pursued has already said NO. Nonetheless, here we are with people still thinking that if they pester another person enough they will fall for them. That is exactly what Gruver does to Hana-ogi. He becomes a constant fixture at the bridge. He even learns to say good morning in Japanese! Well, technically that’s not a big feat since the expression is exactly as you pronounce Ohio. But it’s just to sprinkle some teriyaki sauce on his southern charm. And, as it happens in movies, he gets the girl.
Hana-ogi is successful, famous, and doesn’t need a man— and yet the American pilot decides she’s gonna be his. Why? Boredom? Maybe because she’s special? Or is it because love conquers all? None of those three is a real reason to wreck somebody’s life. After all, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, good instincts, and a whole lot of good ol’ southern stubbornness.
Sayonara came out two years after Rosa Parks took her to stand on a bus in Montgomery, Alabama with the ripples of her bravery still transforming the fabric of the racial relationships in the United States at the time of its release.
The movie takes place in 1951, but the nudge in favor of the changes taking place in real-time is commendable. Even if the execution is within the conventional notion that men take charge and make things happen. Regardless of whether they need to or not. In this version of post-war Japan (and in the real world), it’s okay for Americans to keep people from their premises. But don’t you dare tell them they can’t go somewhere in your cities. Make everybody learn English to wait on you, but don’t bother to even learn to say thank you in the language of the locals. Wait. Am I talking about 1957 or 2021? I’ll let you guess.
At the end of the day, this movie should have been about Katsumi and Kelly. The establishment still made their life difficult after marriage, pushing them to tragic actions. The powers that be plotted against the happiness of others just because those chose the least conventional path.
Wait. Am I talking about 1957 or 2021? Keep guessing.
Today we still face racism and prejudice, but the film Sayonara is also about dealing with the path others (parents, government, religious beliefs) have chosen for us and the compromises we make to fulfill their expectations. Is it right to let others decide how we live our lives? Are we strong enough to live with the consequences of our choices? Should we let duty and honor trample our happiness? Is it selfish to be ourselves?
Seeing as it’s 2021, I’m gonna let you have your own answers without forcing my opinion on you. Wait. Am I doing it wrong? Shouldn’t I be screaming and ranting and telling you that my opinion is the only valid one? Yeah. It’s the last month of 2021. We should know better.
I’m gonna give the movie 7 out of 10 because it was good but too damn long. Sayonara!
Sayonara is available to stream on Tubi