Dear Thorkell...
I will not let you get away by criticizing so easily one of the most beautiful films ever made on earth, a film that makes modern films today seem like toilet water in comparison.
Ugetsu Monogatari - Tales of the Moon and Rain (1953) has since I saw it for the first time followed me deeply throughout my life, namely because of as you mention, the cinematography is spot on. And as often for Mizoguchi, nothing is a coincidence and nothing is put randomly into the frame. Every little detail inside the frame is highly planned, thought out and executed pedantically by him and his crew.
I believe that the powerful effect of this film lies in the depth, honesty and true awareness of portraying the two deluded male characters inner and outer worlds (mainly Genjuro, the pot makers world expresses this best). For me, it all depends of the skill from the directors side of being able to express this problem by pure content, by mise-en-scene and then coming together with subtle poetic cinematography. Everything seems, feels and unfolds like being in a state of dream; the limits of the outer, physical world and the inner, spiritual world constantly crosses over, blending together, mirroring and reflecting each world, always holding the film on a level where the viewer is totally sucked in, just as the main character themselves. Thereby letting us see and go into their deepest mindset and feelings of lust, pride, greed, love, passion and so on, we ourselves are able to reflect intuitively on our own lives... This aspect, I believe, is so important when we talk about Ugetsu.
But more important about the technical aspect I find striking is that when Mizoguchi let us through his characters dreams and their illusions, he doesn't fall into cheap, easy camera tricks to show the inner world of spirits... He expresses it just like it was reality, but with a certain poetic touch that leaves an echoing effect on our senses. I think that's one of the main keys to understand how he builds up his overall poetical form, thereby reaching a clearly defined aesthetic of beauty.
When you criticize Mizoguchi's judging and leaving no sympathy for his male characters, I feel it very differently as I am seeing the problem from above. As regarding for his main character, Genjuro, the pot maker Mizoguchi lets us constantly see deep into his most fragile and inner area of his soul, throughout the whole film, leaving behind a very intimate connection between character and viewer. For instance, in a spiritual vision he sees his wife coming from behind the clothes shop and trying out a beautiful traditional Japanese dress. Or in the end when Genjuro finally returns home to find his house empty, but as he walks around the house and gets inside again his wife is suddenly sitting by the fire in the middle of the room. The scene and the meaning that unfolds from here should speak for itself, but as I want to emphasize the whole way these sequences are written for the camera, for the mise-en-scene and direction, everything is revealed to be made of a true poet, a director that actually reveals through cinematography to have true, honest feelings full of life and love. Those kinds of short spiritual glimpses of his male characters inner world, always reveals for me that Mizoguchi is outstanding in expressing, thereby inviting us, in bare truth, to look inside and reflect our own life's most secret, personal, valuable and vulnerable feelings...
Both of these beautiful sequences should speak for itself, as in relation to judge or have sympathy for the directors own characters. I mean, Mizoguchi has enormous sympathy for his characters, male or female, child or adult, warrior or pot maker, spirit or human - for all of them. But that's exactly where he proofs to be a real artist, like a God creating his own world with the camera; through the story, the director reveals to have a deep skill to both plunge deep inner personal feelings into his characters, and in the same time understands the necessity of pushing them into intensive moral conflicts to let them unfold through pain, sorrow, death and tragedy. It's through all their inner fights with themselves, dreams of pride, greed and sins, their path through lust and needs of illusions - delusions so to say, that they finally come out on the other side, through harsh experience with life itself, learning the difference between forces of Good and Evil. That's why I don't really see any importance in criticism of the directors judgement or sympathy in the portrayal of his male characters in Ugetsu, because the essential meaning is unfolding on a higher level; leading the warrior and pot maker through highly complex moral and spiritual conflicts, as to, in the end through prayer and spiritual contact push their souls upwards and realizing wisdom...
I am then reminded of the ending scene, where we see Genjuro, the pot maker, praying, right after we see him and his child working hardly, as in the beginning, meanwhile the voice of the wife's spirit speaks to him, through prayer, through their souls, which Mizoguchi again with deep insight and full of life allows us to hear...
Genjuro: Why did you have to die? Why did you have to die, Miyagi?
Miyaga (voiceover, whispering): I did not die. I am at your side. Your delusion has come to an end. You are again your true self, in the place where you belong. Your work is waiting... What a beautiful shape! Helping you spin the wheel is my greatest pleasure. How I long to see it when its baked! The firewood is cut and ready. The rampaging soldiers are gone. So make your wonderful pottery in peace. So many things have happened. You've finally become the man I had hoped for. But alas... I am no longer among the living. I suppose such is the way of the world.
Well, this is of course just the short dialog, but beautifully written, almost like a poem in itself, but in combination with the most important elements: imagery, editing, camera movements and mise-en-scene everything comes down to an extremely powerful emotional atmosphere. I mean, how can we even talk or discuss about this film without mentioning the significance of this films ending? Its one of the most beautiful endings ever made for cinema as regarding to leave behind a very clearly feeling of truth, hope and love in our emotional senses, in our souls. But I guess it all comes down to the viewer himself of how much he can feel this film and the impact of the ending; what have he himself experienced in life? What is his own view of life, love and death? Has he himself lost someone dear to him? Has he himself been living in delusions and later realizing, knowing better...? And so on and so forth... But even by itself this last scene is so strong, but also of course in connection with the rest of the film, that it says everything. This is what its all about. The inner strength of these last words and images is so powerful and beautiful exactly because of its tragedy, because of the wife's death: their bodies are doomed to live apart, in two different worlds, but through faith, through prayer and love the family's spirit are still united, working close together just as in the beginning. Of course one can easily see this as a sad, depressing and dark ending, but because of Mizoguchi is letting us hear the voice of the wife's spirit everything turns into love, harmony and unification. As if we were walking deep inside Genjuro's soul, we hear his most dear feelings and wishes, which is love for his wife and hope to continue living as her spirit follows him. In Ugetsu Mizoguchi uses tragedy and beauty in such a strong combination that he is able to push the overall spiritual impact of the film to a very significant level where love and death, body and soul, pain and peace becomes connected, as one, as the overall flow of life... And sadly enough, not many directors of today have the guts to show that anymore...
As for something else... When you criticize the film for its part of the "ghost story" I have to say that in Japan, and mostly over all the Eastern parts of the world, for centuries and still even today, they strongly believe in ghosts having direct influence on their lives, thereby showing a lot of respect for them.
Actually, I would rather call it evil spirits. Their belief of spirits of all kinds; Good and Evil, reincarnations, incarnations of sickness, greed, pride, wealth, luck and so on is mainly perceived as spiritual forces. It is rooted so deeply in their culture, childhood, religions, past ancestors (Ugetsu deals apparently with Buddhist philosophy), in their relationship to nature, morality, in their view of life and death and of God that it has been part of everyday life for centuries and I would believe those instincts are still intact in them, in one way or the other. (Its funny you mention The Shinning because I have always felt the whole treatment of ghosts or evil spirits in that film to be simplified, untrue, fake, unnecessary and not coming through so deeply as in Ugetsu, where I feel a much more respected, personal and complex portrait of a spirit. For me, Lady Wakasa in Ugetsu is much more frightening and haunting than any of the spirits filled with gore or twin ghosts of The Shinning, because the world of Lady Wakasa is created with much more darkness and personality; her needs and motifs are deeper, ringing more true as regarding her form and meaning). But I very well know, that for us Europeans or Scandinavians (we are even more distanced to this, I myself am from Denmark), it may be easy for us to slide that element aside, call it silly and meaningless, being left unconvinced of its effect. Because we do not have the same emotional or spiritual sense, belief or understanding of what a spirit is as in the East, because its not part of our culture as strongly as it is and has been for them... For the East I would even say its a universal, fundamental cornerstone of what's holding life, reality and the world together.
Jerami Bajra Nielsen