Frankly I thought Masaki Kobayashi could do no wrong.<br /><br />I really wanted to like this. Damn, I even tried to and tried hard. Not only because Kobayashi is one of my favourite directors and arguably a true titan of Japanese cinema any way you look at it but also because if his brand of socially-minded, emotionally cathartic tragedy could make the leap from his jidaigekis set in Tokugawa Japan to any other genre, that would be the war drama.<br /><br />Set in 1943 Manchuria, WWII in full bloody swing, The Human Condition follows the trials and tribulations in occupied China of Kaji, a young idealist drafted in the service of the Japanese army. He is transferred to the hinterland to work as a supervisor in the ore mines of the area, a place where thousands of Chinese prisoners of war slave away in inhuman conditions for the benefit of the Japanese motherland. Kaji, full of youthful optimism as he is, attempts to befriend the Chinese POW's in an effort to both make their living conditions better but also improve their labour efficiency to appease his demanding military superiors.<br /><br />And there the movie starts falling to pieces. For a film clocking in at 3 hours and 20 minutes, there's really an awful lot of bland, generic scenes where two or three characters discuss the most obvious things and feelings; not a whole lot of subtext going on, chunks of dialogue delivered right on the nose - a major faux-pas for any storyteller that makes the story crawl to a gruelling halt. <br /><br />Frankly, the movie is melodramatic enough to constitute somewhat of a genre anachronism; it would have made much more sense coming out in 1949 instead of 1959. All this with Akira Kurosawa's YOJIMBO, the movie responsible for both revolutionizing the Japanese period drama and action movie and bringing the concept of the alienated antihero to new cynic heights, only two years away.<br /><br />And speaking of protagonists, it's Kaji, the main character we're called to identify with, played by samurai icon Tatsuya Nakadai before he was even a supporting actor in Yojimbo, that poses the biggest problem. His attitude and worldview of unconditional humanism are all too naive and convenient to hit the right emotional chords. Idenitifying with Kaji's holier-than-thou idealism is hard, not because people like him don't exist in real life, and I hope they do, but simply because this kind of clean-cut idealist character doesn't fare well in a dramatic context.<br /><br />Bear with me here. Now every dramatic character (and by extention his actions that forward the plot) has to be defined by and rooted in some sort of inner conflict. In Kaji's case, it's between work (supervising prisoners into forced labour) and ideology (every human being should be treated with dignity and respect). But his ideology brings him into direct conflict with every major Japanese character in the movie; the army officers, his boss, the other supervisors - people who, in no uncertain terms, could have his head if they were so inclined. Why Kaji repeatedly goes against everyone even at the risk of his life is never so much as hinted at. Usually some sort of character flaw forces the character to take action in an effort to redeem himself. Kaji's only flaw is his idealism. In that sense, Kaji is more of a martyr or a saint than a real, flawed human being. It's only natural then that the viewer might become frustrated by his idealistic persistance, a feeling that is shared (ironically) by his antagonists inside the movie (the abusive supervisor and the army officials). If this is a clever trick on Kobayashi's part to have us sympathize with Kaji's enemies (and maybe feel bad about it), then I tip my hat to him. Because it was done at the expense of a movie.<br /><br />Another thing that bothered me was how forced the drama felt at times. For example, near the end (and this is no spoiler that matters), a Chinese prostitute whose prisoner lover was executed by the Japanese, throws rocks at Kaji and calls him "Japanese devil". The only responsibility Kaji had at the execution was that he simply couldn't prevent it from happening. He's not even a military officer, just a labour supervisor. There's no reason for the prostitute to throw rocks at Kaji instead of the real culprits. It seems to happen for no other reason than making the viewer identify with his character. His tolerance only seems to invite more abuse which only reinforces his martyric status.<br /><br />That's not to say that THC is not without its moments of beauty. The cinematography is good throughout, with some beautiful exterior shots and certain scenes and images resonate with true emotional power: the starving bodies of Chinese prisoners dropping like flies from train wagons, the lenthy execution scene, a parade of prostitutes visiting the concentration camp.<br /><br />Overall, I'm very disappointed with The Human Condition. Based on the glowing reviews here, I was expecting a masterpiece to equal Kobayashi's other work from the 60's. It turns out THC is a war melodrama that might have been very popular in a devastated post-war Japan that was thirsty for the populist theme of humanism clashing against the oppressive system, but I found it too simplistic and convenient and lacking the sophistication of Kobayashi's true epics (Seppuku and Samurai Rebellion).