That voice sang the nursery rhyme.
Had he really heard it?
At first, Akira didn't say anything,
just that he'd enjoyed his bath
and ''Mother, look at me. ''
But later,
''Who is that woman in the barn?''
''Chiyojo, ''said the mother.
''Don't go near her.
She's a nymphomaniac, and maybe a witch. ''
''She went mad from waiting for the man she was predestined for.
It is a custom that on the Day of the Bull in the Year of the Bull
unmarried 20-year-old women
change their clothes, bathe,
wash their hair, put on makeup
and lock themselves in a room.
They face the wall to concentrate their soul, then they pray.
In the mirror will appear the face of the man they are predestined for.
But no face appeared for that woman.
She waited one year, two years,
and after three years, she went mad.
She stays locked up in the barn.
Sometimes she goes out in the moonlight
to look for a man. ''
''What if she comes out for me?
What if she comes after me again?''
''Don't worry. Mother is near. ''
Akira visits the temple priest.
''What do you mean, a 'new'mother?
As if anything new could existI
Nothing on earth is new.
Hidden memories surface from time to time. That's all. ''
Akira asks, ''Why am I obsessed with the words to that nursery rhyme?
Why am I condemned to travel?''
''Why ask?''says the priest.
But Akira persists,
''Rerhaps I have another mother?
Rerhaps I must travel until I find her?''
''Nonsense, ''says the priest.
''Your eyes follow a bird in the sky and you don't see the sky. ''
Nevertheless, Akira saw Chiyojo again.
This time, his mother's reaction was terrible.
She slapped him, bound him, insulted him.
He asked for forgiveness and promised to never do it again.
She left him tied to the tree all night.
In the morning, before going in to town, the mother said,
''Don't be afraid.
I'll write magic formulas so she won't come near you. ''
What she wrote on his skin and clothes
were the words to the nursery rhyme.
''Rolling ball, like the moon.
Soft sweet ball like my mother.
First a box.
Second, a red thread.
Third, a wide-sleeved party dress.
All for Oharu,
who is perhaps dead, but I don't know where. ''
''No one will ever bewitch you now. ''
Akira remembers his mother's words,
''You'll be my son for all eternity. ''
He thinks he remembers other words
about a cruel mother,
an imprisoned servant, considered a nymphomaniac
but in reality, raped by the husband and kept in a barn for 1 0 years.
Who had said these words?
''A ball, a floating ballI They ask me to catch it.
I look at that round thing floating without bubbling,
the setting sun in its wake.
I want to catch it without wetting my feet.
A passing policeman removes his hat and deftly scoops up the ball.
The policeman is one of Akira's mother's lovers. ''
''As for Akira's father, they say he's a naval officer,
but no one's ever seen him.
A strange mother-son relationship. ''
''A strange mother-son relationship? Why strange?
In a place with a school, nothing strange can happen. ''
When the girl's body washed ashore, she was dead.
She'd committed suicide with the deserter.
Akira stops before a house of pleasure.
So like his mother-
''But it's another woman- A man was insulting my mother. ''
Akira questions the servant.
''No, that's a lullaby. ''
The servant thinks.
Later, in the house of pleasure, one of the girls hums the nursery rhyme.
''Not the music, ''says Akira. ''The words. Remember the words. ''
''Those aren't the right words, ''says Akira.
''Of course not, ''says the girl. ''I just made them up. ''
''But what comes after what you sang earlier?''
''I don't remember. ''
''Try to remember. ''
''You didn't come here to sing, did you?''
On the road, Akira passes a couple of umbrella repairers.
Akira returns to the Black Door Estate,
his childhood home.
An old man comes out of the house.
''May I see the girl with the ball who just entered?''
''What girl? I am alone. ''
''Rlease have some tea.
I've lived here alone for the last 30 years. ''
''That thing looks like a ball. ''
''It's a conception stone.
It makes women fertile.
Some are as small as Go tokens.
Some as large as rice cakes.
A childless woman will conceive if she caresses it.
Today, everything is a business.
Old women sell these stones.
Sometimes they are asked, 'Instead of children,just give me the mother. '
But many young women buy them for their magical power. ''
''My mother was making love, but that man
was me. ''
''Don't be afraid. Mother is near. ''
He opens the last door and finds his mother, surrounded by fairies.
''Akira,you've gotten me pregnant again. ''
Akira sees his death as a child drowned in the river.
Did he drown himself?.
The mourning villagers follow the cortege.
Among them is his mother,
wearing a wedding dress.
Akira will set off again.
He'll roam from country to country.
The sea? He'll cross it.
Mountains? He'll climb them.
The clouds will be his guide.
What he seeks doesn't make sense. It refuses all explanation.
He'd like to hear the words to the nursery rhyme just once.
Until then, he travels, he travels.
THE GRASS LABYRI NTH
Directed by Shuji Terayama, starring Hiroshi Mikami,
Takeshi Wakamatsu, Keiko Niitaka and Juzo Itami.
Screenplay by Shuji Terayama and Rio Kishida.
Based on the novel by Kyoka Izumi.
Cinematography by Tatsuo Suzuki. Art Direction by Isao Yamada.
Film Editing by Tomoyo Oshima. Music byJ.A. Seazer.
Coordination by Hiroko Govars and Eiko Kujo.
French translation by Boris Villeneuve. French narration by Florence Carese.
THE CUPBOARD
DI RECTED BYWALERIAN BOROWCZYK
BASED ON THE STORY BY GUY DE MAUPASSANT
One evening last winter,
I was suddenly overwhelmed by one of those moods of desolate weariness
which seize one's soul from time to time.
Alone at home,
I realized that if I stayed there,
I'd suffer one of those dreadful attacks of sadness,
the kind that lead to suicide if they occur too often.
I took my umbrella and went out without knowing what I would do.
Arriving on the boulevard,
I wandered past the cafes, half-empty due to the rain,
one of those fine rains which dampen one's spirits as well as one's clothes.
Not a good strong rain, coming down in sheets,
forcing out-of-breath passersby to seek shelter in doorways,
but a rain so fine that one can't feel the drops.
One of those humid rains.
An incessant shower of imperceptible droplets
that quickly cover one's clothes
with a watery foam, icy and penetrating.
What to do?
I roamed here and there, looking for somewhere to spend a few hours,
noticing for the first time that Raris had no place for nighttime entertainment.
Finally, I made my choice.
Could you dry this? Without opening it.
That's bad luck.
Backstage access is strictly forbidden!
Here. Now let us pass!
That's enough! Leave!
Thanks.
- Can I help you? - Yes, they hurt.
Such pretty feet. Take care of them.
Pardon me.
What's your name?
That's the price for a halfhour.
Fine.
A night is six hours,
or 1 2 half hours,
which equals 1 2 units.
I'll pay you double,
2 4 units, to spend the night with you.
Are you kidding? Together all night?
I'm in a sad mood,
and the idea of spending the night alone is unbearable.
Okay.
I'll get changed.
Go! Quickly!
It's dark here!
Have you lived here long?
Six months on January 1 5.
- Where were you before? - Moselle Street.
I left because the concierge was out to get me.
- She even sent the police to my place. - Police?
They searched everywhere.
The apartment was unrecognizable.
Furniture overturned, drawers on the floor. It was awful.
There'd been a theft in the neighborhood, and she used it as a way to get her revenge.
Revenge? Why?
It's a long story.
She'd been spying on me for a while.
She'd knock on my door almost daily asking to borrow salt or chives.
- Chives? - Yes, or a needle.
It was her way of finding out who I was with.
A horrid woman.
- I'm sorry. - Don't worry about it. It's a bit steep.
- Yes, it is. - We're almost there.
Here we are.
Let me help.
No, keep going. It's on the right, at the end.
The director of the theater allows me to stay in an old dressing room.
A nice, quiet place.
Do you live alone?
Obviously.
I'm an honest girl.
You're staying until tomorrow?
That's what we agreed.
Okay, honey. I was just checking.
Wait a minute. I'll be right back.
She seems to be talking to someone.
Who could it be?
Her pimp?
I'm strong, and so are my fists. We'll see what happens.
You can come in.
Make yourself at home, honey.
What's wrong?
Turned into a pillar of salt?
Hurry up!
Thanks.
What's this?
A woman on her own needs to defend herself sometimes.
Some men are rascals!
Yes, but not me.
I'm an honest man.
You're an angel.
- What's that noise? - Don't worry, honey!
It's the girl next door. You can hear everything.
The walls are so thin, like cardboard.
What are you doing?
That one is sealed up.
Don't you believe me, honey?
I believe you.
But with rascals, you never know.
Do you mind if I smoke?
A mild cigar, very fragrant.
- Go ahead, smoke. - Thanks.
Do you have a light?
Driven by the silly curiosity which makes all men question these creatures
about their first love affair,
to raise the veil on their first sin,
to find a trace of their lost innocence,
to love them, perhaps,
for a fleeting memory evoked by a word of truth,
by their former ingenuousness and modesty,
I questioned her about her first lovers.
I knew she'd lie.
It didn't matter.
Among the lies,
perhaps I'd discover something sincere and moving.
Tell me, who was your first man?
He was a shipbuilder, honey.
Tell me about it. Where were you?
Argenteuil.
What were you doing there?
I worked in a restaurant.
Which restaurant?
- The Fair-Weather Sailor. Do you know it? - Good Lord, yes.
That's Smiley's place.
Yes, that's it.
How did he court you, this shipbuilder?
While I was making his bed, he forced himself on me.
Suddenly, I remembered the theory of my friends'doctor-
an observant and philosophical doctor whose work at the hospital
put him in daily contact with unwed mothers, prostitutes,
with all the shame and misery of women,
the poor women, the prey of awful men
who roam around with money in their pockets.
''Always, ''he told me,
''A girl is always corrupted by a man ofher own class and social standing.
I've seen it time and time again.
We accuse the rich of picking the common girls'flower of innocence,
but that's not true.
The rich buy a pre-picked bouquet.
They might pick from the second flowering,
but never the first blossom. ''
I know your story.
I do.
The shipbuilder wasn't your first.
I swear it, honey.
You're lying, my pet.
I promise.
No, you're lying.
Tell me the truth.
I'm a sorcerer, pretty girl.
I'm a sleepwalker.
If you don't tell the truth, I'll put you to sleep
and I'll find out.
How did you guess?
I told you, I'm a sorcerer.
Go on, talk!
The first time wasn't much.
It was at the village festival.
They'd hired a chef, Mr. Alexandre.
As soon as he arrived, he did exactly as he liked.
He ordered everyone around like a king, even the boss and his wife!
He was handsome and tall.
He bustled around the kitchen.
He yelled constantly, ''Bring butter! Eggs! Madeira!''
We had to bring it on the double or he'd be furious
and the things he'd say made you blush down to your socks.
At the end of the day,
he went to smoke his pipe in the doorway.
I passed with a stack of plates
and he said,
''Come on, kid.
Take me to the river and show me the sights.''
Like a fool, off I went.
Down by the river, he forced himself on me so fast, I didn't know what he was doing.
He left on the 9:00 train.
I never saw him again.
Is that all?
- I think Florentin is his. - Who is Florentin?
My child.
That's Florentin.
Very nice.
You convinced the shipbuilder he was the father, didn't you?
Of course.
Did the shipbuilder have any money?
Yes.
He even gave me a 300-franc allowance for Florentin.
Very good, my girl.
You're not as dumb as people think.
How old is Florentin now?
He's a big boy.
He'll soon receive his first Communion.
And ever since, you've practiced your profession conscientiously.
I do what I can.
It's nothing,just my neighbor. Honey, I swear it's nothing!
Mommy!
- What's the meaning of this? - I went to sleep and fell.
- Don't scold me. - What do you expect?
I can't afford to send him to boarding school!
I don't earn enough for an extra room!
When I'm alone, he sleeps with me.
When someone comes for an hour or two, he can stay in the cupboard. He's used to it.
But when you stay all night, it's bad for him to sleep on a chair!
I'd like to see you...
spend the whole night on a chair!
I fell.
I'd like to see you try it!
It's not my fault.
One, two-
Seven.
Here.
It's not my fault, Mommy.
- Utter satisfaction. - Delicious.
Don't be nervous. It's only a second-rate audience tonight.
I still have my professional pride!
THE END