The general belief that the 1960's was the ground-zero for massive sociological upheaval is one that generally forgets that that decade was almost half over by the time it became the era we remember it for. Until Lee Harvey Oswald's starting rifle ushered in the Love and Napalm dynasty, the first part of the 60's was really a 1950's hangover.
Roughly speaking, 'The 60's' only kicked in when the Beatles Landed in America in '64 and ended when the American's landed on the moon five years later. (Were they trying to tell us something?) The so called permissive society emerged from the cultural turbulence of a 'swinging London', a 'flowered up' San Francisco and a burning Saigon and, as the history books would have it, appeared to challenge everything. Overt sexual, pharmaceutical and political references in entertainment became de rigor and everyone, it seemed, were cutting-edge pioneers at the dawning of the Age of Aquarius. Meanwhile on the other side of the planet, and away from 'the world', it was just another day at the office for director Kaneto Shindo when he released his haunting sex/death opus Onibaba.
Onibaba ('Demon Hag') is based on a Buddhist fable and tells the story of an old woman and her young daughter-in-law during 14th century feudal Japan (or 16th, or 17th depending on who's website you use to check these things) who live in a seemingly endless swamp of high reeds and survive by murdering lost or renegade Samurai warriors.
They strip their victims of their armour to sell for food then dispose of the bodies in a deep dark ominous hole.
One day a masked stranger is passing and forces the old woman to help him find his way to Kyoto. She asks him why he hides his face behind a creepy demon-Noh mask and he tells her that he is so beautiful it would blind her to look at him. She tricks him by leading him to the hole where he falls in. Her curiosity gets the better of her and she climbs down into the hole littered with her rotting victims to see the man's 'beautiful face' which turns out to be more Robin Williams than Robbie Williams. Disappointed, she takes the mask and uses it to disguise herself as a demon to scare her daughter-in-law away from the door of a man she is having an illicit affair with and who, she believes, will run away and leave her alone to fend for herself. The plan backfires when the mask clings to her face turning her into the demon she pretends to be.
The hole is the key element here and is a constant presence throughout the film and seems to represent both the womb and the crypt; the entrance at which life and death pass each other to and from this world and the next. The old woman's desperate venture into the hole for a glimpse of beauty mirrors her hope that perhaps there is still some vestige of beauty within her. Her discovery reveals there isn't, thus setting in motion her 'girl who cried demon' comeuppance.
Onibaba's psychosexual symbolism and nudity is treated in an offhand manner, unlike western movies of the period which would, if only they could, have turned this into the films primary selling point. Onibaba rendered the 'progressive free West' way behind the game in terms of what was 'happening' in an age where taboos were supposed to have been broken every ten minutes. Onibaba was immediately banned on its release in the U.K and only given an 'X' certificate in 1968 with cuts. It would be 1994 before we were considered grown up enough to see the uncut version. So much for the 'let it all hang out' generation's brave new world.
Roughly speaking, 'The 60's' only kicked in when the Beatles Landed in America in '64 and ended when the American's landed on the moon five years later. (Were they trying to tell us something?) The so called permissive society emerged from the cultural turbulence of a 'swinging London', a 'flowered up' San Francisco and a burning Saigon and, as the history books would have it, appeared to challenge everything. Overt sexual, pharmaceutical and political references in entertainment became de rigor and everyone, it seemed, were cutting-edge pioneers at the dawning of the Age of Aquarius. Meanwhile on the other side of the planet, and away from 'the world', it was just another day at the office for director Kaneto Shindo when he released his haunting sex/death opus Onibaba.
Onibaba ('Demon Hag') is based on a Buddhist fable and tells the story of an old woman and her young daughter-in-law during 14th century feudal Japan (or 16th, or 17th depending on who's website you use to check these things) who live in a seemingly endless swamp of high reeds and survive by murdering lost or renegade Samurai warriors.
They strip their victims of their armour to sell for food then dispose of the bodies in a deep dark ominous hole.
One day a masked stranger is passing and forces the old woman to help him find his way to Kyoto. She asks him why he hides his face behind a creepy demon-Noh mask and he tells her that he is so beautiful it would blind her to look at him. She tricks him by leading him to the hole where he falls in. Her curiosity gets the better of her and she climbs down into the hole littered with her rotting victims to see the man's 'beautiful face' which turns out to be more Robin Williams than Robbie Williams. Disappointed, she takes the mask and uses it to disguise herself as a demon to scare her daughter-in-law away from the door of a man she is having an illicit affair with and who, she believes, will run away and leave her alone to fend for herself. The plan backfires when the mask clings to her face turning her into the demon she pretends to be.
The hole is the key element here and is a constant presence throughout the film and seems to represent both the womb and the crypt; the entrance at which life and death pass each other to and from this world and the next. The old woman's desperate venture into the hole for a glimpse of beauty mirrors her hope that perhaps there is still some vestige of beauty within her. Her discovery reveals there isn't, thus setting in motion her 'girl who cried demon' comeuppance.
Onibaba's psychosexual symbolism and nudity is treated in an offhand manner, unlike western movies of the period which would, if only they could, have turned this into the films primary selling point. Onibaba rendered the 'progressive free West' way behind the game in terms of what was 'happening' in an age where taboos were supposed to have been broken every ten minutes. Onibaba was immediately banned on its release in the U.K and only given an 'X' certificate in 1968 with cuts. It would be 1994 before we were considered grown up enough to see the uncut version. So much for the 'let it all hang out' generation's brave new world.