Murder and Little Tokyo

A stripper is murdered and the painting in her dressing room is destroyed. So begins 1959's The Crimson Kimono, Written and directed by Samuel Fuller, it's also a story about Japanese Americans in L.A. Ahead of its time in totally avoiding any white actors playing people of Japanese decent, I was also surprised at how authentic it was to Japanese culture in other respects. The heart of the story is a little thin but Fuller's instinct for editing and attention to detail are always terrific.

Joe (James Shigeta) and Charlie (Glenn Corbett) are two detectives who also served together in the Korean War. They also live together so it seems to be a fast friendship. However, in the course of investigating the murder, they end up falling in love with the same woman, a painter named Christine (Victoria Shaw).

The affection between her and Joe is established a bit abruptly at the end of the second act. None of it feels quite organic, which is unfortunate as the story primarily hangs on Joe misinterpreting Charlie's jealousy as racism. One critic of the film said that it portrays all victims of racism as just imagining it, which of course it doesn't. But Fuller might have been wise to include instances where Joe or other characters were subjected to real racism. This would help to make Joe's fears seem more reasonable and make the film more complex overall.

The Buddhist temple depicted in the film looks much like ones I've visited in Japan. The kendo tournament in which we see Joe and Charlie participating looked much like the kendo practice I've witnessed here in Japan. Even the song Joe plays on his piano, "Akatombo", is a song I've frequently heard here in Japan.

The third film Fuller made prominently featuring Japan--after Hell and High Water and House of Bamboo--it's not the best (Hell and High Water is) but it's not bad at all.

Twitter Sonnet #1689

A submarine for cigarettes emerged.
The captain carted spam across the decks.
The submarine for pretty girls submerged.
A tale commenced of lonely pirate wrecks.
A lonely shore sufficed the watching lass.
Her socks were hanging under rainy skies.
She watched as schooners, scows, and frigates passed.
The hour's shades disperse when patience dies.
The heavy whale absorbed a book of fish.
Repeated clouds create a darkened day.
With shiny scales they broke the ocean dish.
Ideas were left to dry along the way.
Electic reds portray a dancing street.
The metal can consumes a pickled beet.