Incorrigible, The | aka The Bastard (1963) Review

“The Incorrigible” Japanese Theatrical Poster

AKA: The Young Rebel
Director: Seijun Suzuki
Cast: Ken Yamauchi, Masako Izumi, Midori Tashiro, Chiharu Kuri, Emiko Azuma, Mieko Takamine
Running Time: 95 min.

By Kelly Warner

The Taisho era, named after Emperor Taisho, was a period in Japan sandwiched between the rapid modernization of the Meiji period and the ultimate push to war of the Showa era. Director Seijun Suzuki was born in the final years of the Taisho period but that period of Japan seems to have meant something to the filmmaker. One of Suzuki’s most critically acclaimed works was the Taisho Trilogy of films (Zigeunerweisen, Kagero-za, and Yumeji), which used the period of change as a backdrop for some of the strangest stories of his career. The Taisho period is also the focus for one of his earlier and lesser-known films, The Incorrigible, which tells the story of a troubled youth who doesn’t fit in with his time or place.

The Incorrigible (also known as The Bastard) is based on the semi-autobiographical tale by author Toko Kon (Stolen Desire). The Toko stand-in is named Togo in the film and played by young Ken Yamauchi (Whistle in My Heart). Togo comes from an upper-class family in the city of Kobe. Togo’s a bit of an ass, shows little respect to his elders, and his antics get him kicked out of his private school. His mother is tired of him embarrassing the family, so she tricks him into joining her on a train ride and dumps him in some backwoods town at the house of a school headmaster. But Togo ain’t having it. He plans to raise all hell and force this new country bumpkin town to expel him, too, thus hopefully sending him back to the big city.

It’s difficult to like Togo in these early scenes. Maybe downright impossible. He’s an insufferable, spoiled brat who expects to get his way about everything. But when the world knocks him down a peg or two, he finally decides to make the most of his new home and become a (somewhat) respectable student. The audience’s appreciation for Togo grows as he settles down but still finds a way to remain true to himself. In this town of farmers, Togo’s interest in love, higher thinking, and art make him stand out like a sore thumb.

It’s not just the small town atmosphere that makes Togo stand out, it’s the culture of Japan at the time. The Taisho period was very conservative. You can sense the rising fascism of pre-WWII Japan. The school’s student-operated Public Morals Unit watches over all fellow students and harshly punishes those who it perceives to be in violation of the rules for good, upstanding Japanese youth. Of course Togo, with his love for foreign books, girls, and individualism, becomes the Public Morals Unit’s prime target. And though Togo never exactly rages against the system of Japan as a whole, his constant fights with the ultra-conservative Morals students makes him appear as a rebel against society.

The Suzuki film that The Incorrigible resembles most is the underrated Fighting Elegy, made just three years later. That film addressed the fascism and militarism in the student body even more directly than The Incorrigible, with an abundance of violence that made the movie more in tune for what Western audiences expect from Seijun Suzuki. The Incorrigible is more of a Barnes & Noble book club take on similar themes, as Togo struggles to find out what kind of man he is going to be while also falling for the girl of his dreams (Masako Izumi) in the last place he would’ve expected.

I have some issues with the editing of the film, which features some graceless cuts, but otherwise I can find very little fault with the movie as a whole. It’s smart, angry, and unusually literary for a Suzuki film. The director feels a tad restrained by the content of the film, as if he was trying to make a respectable youth drama and did not want his oddball tendencies to get in the way of that. There is one striking moment when it appears (?) as though the narrator himself reaches beyond the camera to open a book that’s been left on the floor. It’s a strange moment, but one I liked.

Ken Yamauchi delivers a fine performance as the incorrigible Togo. The actor is okay with letting the audience hate him and I appreciated that. It’s an interesting film in Suzuki’s filmography for all the strong women who make up the cast. While the men duke it out over their differences, it’s the women who set terms and command attention. I enjoyed Masako Izumi (Tattooed Life) as the girl who enters into a forbidden relationship with Togo. A moment of memory has Togo recall his first time with a woman, the geisha named Ponta (Chiharu Kuri). It’s a female student (Midori Tashiro) and her tough-as-nails mother (Emiko Azuma) who are among the only people to defend Togo from the Public Morals Unit. And of course it is Togo’s mother, played by Mieko Takamine (The Inugami Family), who first sets the entire story into motion by dumping her ungrateful son in the boonies.

One of the main things I will come away with after watching a helping of his ‘youth movies’ is that Seijun Suzuki was more of a chameleon as an artist than I’d originally thought. He really could make all kinds of movies, from the fierce to the sappy, from the dark to the joyous. The Incorrigible, like some of the best dramas, runs the gamut of emotions. But it remains true to its tone, and perhaps even more importantly, the film’s characters remain true to themselves. I may not always like Togo, but he’s a character worth remembering alongside some of Suzuki’s best anti-heroes.

Kelly Warner’s Rating: 7/10