Kinji Fukasaku
The Geisha House

Logically for an artist, it is impossible to realistically portray a lifestyle that is unknown to them, and on this occasion, Kinji Fukasaku attempts to do so in a quite deplorable manner. The Geisha House is relatively unknown in Italy, contrary to the director who gained fame with the film adaptation of Battle Royale.

It takes quite a presumption to set up such a film with a semi-documentary style about a profession belonging to a world reserved and shrouded in secrecy, which no one openly described before M. Iwasaki in recent times. But even before the release of Iwasaki's autobiography, A. Golden's best-seller already appeared shaky in terms of credibility. The author intentionally wrote some inaccuracies to meet the demands of a wide audience primarily attracted by eroticism and sex, but I believe several errors were unintentional, arising from poor documentation that also pervaded Japan itself, as this film also attests.  

In 1999 there was still a monstrous confusion about what it meant to be a geisha, and not being able to penetrate life inside the okiya (the so-called geisha house), inspiration was drawn from brothels elsewhere, believing that things must not be that different.

Contrary to the film, in the okiya, men were only allowed up to the guest room and could not come and go at inappropriate hours so that no strange ideas would arise. The honor and good name of geisha houses were held in high regard by both the residents and those who managed them, who had to maintain their prestige and reputation. Additionally, the privacy of these establishments was strictly observed: only the tailor tasked with preparing the geisha was allowed in the inner halls of the structure for professional reasons.

Fukasaku, on the other hand, directs a film that, intending to take a stand against societal prejudices, starts from monumental prejudices he does not even realize, ultimately portraying geisha as if they were more charismatic prostitutes. The very idea upon which the entire film is based, that geisha offer sexual favors to powerful men in exchange for something, is simply ridiculous. Often a geisha earns more than her regular clients and has no reason to engage sexually for money or such.

Additionally, the film lacks the entire artistic component which has always been the daily bread of these women; they are seen talking about sex all the time without any representation or highlighting of the hard work necessary to excel in the various disciplines of this challenging profession, such as music, dance, calligraphy, debate, etc., which are hardly even vaguely mentioned.

As if that weren't enough, The Geisha House also failed to convince me stylistically: a work too loud that tends to mimic with nostalgic vein the old cinema of Mizoguchi without remotely approaching those levels.

But the ultimate blow, as expected, is that of mizuage (the same nonsense reported in A. Golden's best-seller), which is understood the same way as the ceremonial defloration of a prostitute (oiran) in brothels. In the world of geisha, the word mizuage has a completely different meaning, indicating the sum of earnings of a geiko or the promotion ceremony of a maiko.

In short, this legendary figure, seemingly destined for extinction, has found very few cinematic consecrations capable of doing it justice even today. In conclusion, The Geisha House is a cynical and derogatory film that describes the world of geisha in a very coarse and error-filled manner. It only deserves a passing grade thanks to a well-written script and splendid costumes, supported by good acting.