Tokyo Orimpikku

I've been watching Tokyo Orimpikku, an idiosyncratic documentary of the 1964 Olympics by the Japanese director Kon Ichikawa.

From the opening scenes--which list each and every one of the previous 17 Olympics and host city--to the amateur joy of the athletes at the closing ceremony, it's unlike any sports-related film I've seen.

There are tight closeups of athletes, to the point that you feel disoriented not being able to see the context. Long minutes of natural sound from competition--just grunts, groans, screams, thumps, cheers.

And although the documentary roughly follows the chronological order of the Games in show each sport, from the perspective of someone used to the scripted storytelling of contemporary televised sporting events there can seem to be no rhyme or reason to what is shown.

Ichikawa spends minutes on minor events while big-name athletes in the glamour sports are seen only in passing. And he often doesn't follow an event through to conclusion. (You may feel the urge to visit this site afterwards).

This is the Olympics of gymnast Larisa Latynina, swimmer Dawn Fraser, and 5-time gold medalist Deszo Gyarmati--but the competition footage Ichikawa shows tends to linger on athletes who catch his eye for sometimes inscrutable reasons. It may just be a case of the camera happens to be where it happens to be, something rarely seen in today's world of replays from every conceivable angles coverage.

(A contemporary New York Times review says Ichikawa used 100 cameramen and 148 technicians to shoot 16 sports over two weeks.)

But once you adjust, you settle into the rhythm of his world. There's a certain nostalgic aspect to watching the film today--this is very much the 60s of mostly sunshine lighting up gray stone buildings, when the narration dwells on the brotherhood of the Games it doesn't jar or ring hokey. It's a world where Bobby and Martin are still alive, Vietnam hadn't exploded, Munich is just a town in Germany....

You understand what hosting the Olympics meant to post-war Japan; the feeling that they were once again taking their place among the world's leading nations after the self-inflicted devastation of World War II. Just by seeing the buildings and streets of Tokyo you get a feel for the gritty rebuilding the Japanese had undergone.

And Ichikawa lingers on the faces of ordinary Japanese, the spectators in the stadiums, fans lining the streets--bright excited kids, giggling groups of pretty teenage girls, strong and clean-cut young men in their suits, the spotted and deeply-etched faces of the old.

And even Emperor Hirohito makes his appearance as one among many spectators; there is no deity, just a spectacled man who haltingly opens the Games reading from notes.

My favorite scenes include:
-Russians and Eastern Europeans walking around straight out of central casting (these are the Communists who Americans feared were taking over)
-Tight shots of shot-putters with the shot up against their necks, with cuts to the shot thumping into the turf
-A Japanese gymnast's clean, exuberant floor exercises
-A runner from the "new nation" of Chad alone wherever he goes
-Various shots of chattering athletes and their food
-Segue from Herculean spotlit weightlifters to struggling wrestlers
-Joe Frazier walking off quietly under the stands after winning the gold
-Japanese women beating the Russians in the volleyball finals
-The slogging, rainy walking event (subject of a unique Cary Grant film)
-Elite marathon runners stopping to grab their drinks during the race

It's interesting that the other well-known documentary about an Olympic Game is Leni Riefenstahl's Olympia, about the 1936 Berlin Games.

In my mind, Japan and Germany are twinned:
-Historically hated and feared by their neighbors, yet also traditionally a regional power
-Hard-working, arrogant, disciplined, racist populace not known for their sense of humor
-Guttural language built on compound words
-Appreciative of clean art
-Obsession with women's roles in the home
-Makers of fine automobiles in robotized plants
-Perhaps best-described as 'brutally professional'?

Ichikawa, though, is the farthest thing from a fascist, unlike Riefenstahl, who in many ways (down to her stabs at revisionism) can be seen as one of the uber-fascists. (For more on this, see Fascinating Fascism, Susan Sontag's seminal essay on Riefenstahl and the aesthetics of fascism.)

I found Tokyo Orimpikku beautiful to watch--like the best in Japanese art it has a sense of purity without heavy purpose. There is no coercion in this film; you take it or leave it as you may, you won't feel guilty if you get a little bored and fast-forward.

And while Ichikawa does have his points (Hiroshima, participation, rebirth) he doesn't marshal film/sound/narration/script/graphics in lockstep to make sure you get it.

It's a refreshing break from contemporary sports coverage with its multiple announcers setting up the storyline, telling you what you're seeing, and circling what you missed; and the telegraphed films of Hollywood.

Photo of the Olypmic torch passing in front of Mount Fuji from Tokyo Orimpikku, via Terra Media.