In 1953 Teinosuke Kinugasa's Gate of Hell aka Jigokumon was one of the breakthrough Japanese films on the international market, winning the Grand Prix at Cannes and two Oscars (though, shockingly, neither was for Kôhei Sugiyama's remarkable photography) but received a rather more muted reception in its homeland. That's perhaps understandable since the execution is much more impressive than the not always convincing plot, particularly a crucial development in the third act that rather strains credibility and leaves you wanting to shout "Just tell him!" at the screen. The first third of the film is rather deceptive too, beginning as a vividly stylised saga of dynastic struggle as a proud rural samurai plays a crucial role in thwarting a coup during the Heiji War. Asked to name his own reward, he asks to marry the court lady in waiting who acted as a decoy for the Emperor's sister, and refuses to take no for an answer when he learns that she is already married to the head of the Imperial Guard. The condescending amusement of the court and rival samurai and the decency of the woman's husband only fuel his desire further until tragedy is inevitable...
It's a film that occasionally manages to wrongfoot the viewer, not least in the final scene, but as drama it's never quite as compelling or convincing as it could be. Kasuo Hasegawa's intransigent would-be husband and Isao Yamagata's kindly husband offer an effective study in contrasts, the former tightly wound, the other blinded to the danger by his own unselfishness but, surprisingly, Machiko Kyo is more problematic as the woman caught between them, all too obviously hitting her marks and striking poses at times while the rest of the cast seem more unforced. But ultimately it's the camera rather than the cast that makes the film such a remarkable experience - the film's use of colour is absolutely extraordinary, with a bold strong colour palette that's dramatically compelling in its own right. It's hard to disagree with Martin Scorsese, who described the film as one of the ten great achievements in colour cinematography in world cinema, and thankfully Masters of Cinema's Blu-ray/DVD combo has a stunning transfer of the breathtakingly excellent 2011 restoration of the film. On one level you could argue that the film is a triumph of style over content, but the plot is still strong enough for the style to enhance the content even if the film's striking visuals remain the main attraction.
The disc has no extras apart from a detailed booklet, but it's such a visual feast it's unlikely you'll be disappointed with the disc.
