Even the exquisite photography of this film cannot overshadow its unrelenting grimness. The story line is the most depressing of any non-Swedish film I've seen. It tells of the travails of a well-to-do family who are torn apart by fate. The moody score, which uses a combination of western and Japanese instruments, adds to its overall gloominess.

For almost the entirety of the one hundred and twenty four minutes, the characters are tiny, insignificant figures. Mizoguchi has a rigid, classical style deeply steeped in composition; the scene has already been etched in with lines and placements and blocking, so what is the use in moving the camera? This approach mimics the sedentary lives of the characters. Their menial work is confined to a square, and when they walk, it seems to be with no destination in sight at all. When the non-slaves move it is with an illusion of purpose - they seem convinced that there is something of a cause to aspire towards, and travel in nameless horde. Mizoguchi never graces them with a closeup, and in a suicidal sacrifice that would haunt even the most steady viewer, he robs even this act of its agency, and suggests that her body has the impact of little more than a stone spreading ripples through the lake's surface.So there are two truly great scenes here that shatter this apparent idyllic illusion. The first is the riot and revolution as the ex- slaves rise up and tear down their former master's mansion. Mizoguchi's crisp lines and segments are utterly demolished in fire and frenzy - the camera struggles to fully capture the extent of the chaos. This would not have happened without that teary outburst from Zushio, former slaver to former slave, freeing them from their captivity and urging them to go live their lives. It is tremendously powerful because he has been both literally and figuratively shackled for his entire life, so the emotional outpour is not only for those he addresses, but for his own release. The second is the final shot. Zushio has been told that his long lost mother has surely been reclaimed by the elements, by the recent tidal wave. This recalls Anju's death - who seemed to go willingly and of her own accord, but which Mizoguchi made so painful and inevitable with the threat of the slaver's torture. When Zushio finally reconciles with Tamaki there is an outpouring of both grief and happiness in conflict. She says that they have been pulled together by fate only because he has never wavered by his late father's two commands; to be merciful to all, because all men are born equal and entitled to happiness. And yet Mizoguchi pans away from what seems like closure...once again to the sea, which is only biding its time to once again swallow these tiny little figures. How much of this shoreline has it eroded?

In medieval Japan a compassionate governor is sent into exile. His wife and children try to join him, but are separated, and the children grow up amid suffering and oppression.Others have pointed out that this film bears Mizoguchi's trademark interest in freedom, poverty and woman's place in society, and features beautiful images and long and complicated shots. If anything sums up Mizoguchi it is gynocentricity and long takes.Notice that film critic Anthony Lane wrote, "I have seen Sansho only once, a decade ago, emerging from the cinema a broken man but calm in my conviction that I had never seen anything better; I have not dared watch it again, reluctant to ruin the spell, but also because the human heart was not designed to weather such an ordeal." How do you follow that up?

Sansho the Bailiff is Japanese director Kenji Mizoguchi's great contribution for film industry. The late director is remembered for his mastery of the long takes (uninterrupted shot lasting longer than conventional takes) which he uses to full effect in Sansho the Bailiff.The film tells an excruciating tale of human cruelty and compassion of two 11th-century Japanese aristrocratic children who are sold to slavery. Sounds bleak and in all fairness there is very little uplifting to say about the story. In fact the film draws its great impact from emotional turmoil and despair which the children, Anju (Kyoko Kagawa) and Zushio (Yoshiaki Hanayagi), experience during their long and miserable captivity. At a glance one might think Sansho the Bailiff was uneventful film, but the director's great skill to draw drama out of human plight quickly captivates. For such a slow paced and actionless drama film, I was truly impressed how effortlessly the film managed to keep me fully immersed with the film through the running time.For its great age, Sansho the Bailiff, has truly aged gracefully and it still witholds great emotional impact even after ~60 years since its creation. Director Kenjo Mizoguchi truly created a beautiful classic with Sansho the Bailiff and after seeing the film I now fully understand and agree with all the praise western critics and film-makers alike have given Sansho the Bailiff.