Classic Film: The Face of Another
Brilliant Japanese director's play on masks moody and provocative
Hiroshi Teshigahara's film about a disfigured man who gets a new face is a clever look at the psychological and philosophical ramifications of total anonymity.
It was one of the first movies about taking on a new face and none since have been smarter than Hiroshi Teshigahara’s The Face of Another.
The Face of Another is one of three major feature films (but not his only films) made by the Japanese genius director noted for his innovative style and ability to set moods with framing and sets. This 1966 black-and-white psychological thriller is also rich in dialogue as the characters talk about the temptation and power of masks.
Tatsuya Nakadai plays Mr. Okuyama, a businessman whose entire face is burned badly in a laboratory fire and, embittered, grows distant from his wife and his co-workers. His psychiatrist, though, has other talents and creates an experimental life-like mask (copied from another man’s face), giving Okuyama an alternate identity. The doctor is interested in the psychological effects while Okuyama has a pettier ambition: to seduce his own wife as another man.
To set up his plan, Okuyama rents an apartment, a hideout of sorts, but is almost undone by a mentally challenged teenage girl, who is able to see through him because she depends on other senses besides mere sight. This brings up the notion of how people depend too much on a person’s face to identify them, to know them, just as they depend too much on words when such things as tone and body language are actually more important.
In lesser movies since this one, the concept of the wearing another man’s face is usually sensationalized and used for horror plots and cheap thrills. The Face of Another is mostly about the psychological and philosophical implications.
In the opening scenes, Okuyama’s head is wrapped in bandage and we see how huge a part a face plays in conveying emotion and in interacting with other people, as his wife and boss struggle to maintain a conversation with him.
The power of a mask is also intriguing.
Just think of how emboldening it is to wear a simple Halloween mask at a party and have people wonder who you are, and compare that to a new face and having the utter freedom of no one knowing your true identity.
Okuyama actually starts to dress differently, less conservative, and his doctor suggests that the mask is now taking control and telling Okuyama what styles and manners best suit his new face. The doctor takes the philosophical discussion further, saying that if he mass produced the mask and everyone were able to be anonymous there would be no criminals and no morals, with complete freedom ruling the day.
For those weaned on modern cinema, the pace may be a bit slow but the journey is well worth it as Teshigahara utilizes every technique in the book; from close-ups and freeze-frame photography, to odd angles and dramatic changes in lighting.
One thing that will really catch your eye is the doctor’s office. It is an incredible set, as the office seems to be almost floating in a white space with no walls. Yet there are transparent panels all about it, with graphs, equations, facial outlines and Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man (or Canon of Proportions).
The Face of Another has recently been released as part of the Criterion Collection. Stay tuned for a future review of another Teshigahara movie in the Collection, Woman in the Dunes.
