Despite his numerous distinctive and prolific yakuza crime films made throughout the 1960s, the later works of legendary director Seijun Suzuki remain heavily under-seen (even though he continued to make films with some consistency through to 2005's Princess Raccoon). Having made highly acclaimed, beloved films including Youth of the Beast, Gate of Flesh, Story of a Prostitute and, perhaps most famously, Tokyo Drifter, Suzuki's controversial subject matter and sometimes abrasive filmmaking proved a step too far when he made what is now regarded as his masterpiece, 1967's Branded to Kill.
That film led to Suzuki being wrongfully dismissed, sparking a court case regarding his dismissal. Suzuki won the case, but it ultimately caused him to be blacklisted from the film industry for a decade.
A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness was Suzuki's return, sandwiched between his forced silence and his later Taisho trilogy, consisting of Zigeunerweisen, Heat Shimmer Theatre and Yumeji, which would bring him further acclaim. Adapted from a manga by Ikki Kajiwara, Suzuki's reemergence takes on the form of a bitter, caustic social satire focused primarily on a ravenous sports industry.
The film is led by semi-pro women's golf player Reiko Sakuraba (Yoko Shiraki) who signs a 30 million yen contract (around £275,000, adjusted for inflation) as a group of marketing experts reel her in with plans to turn her into a major star. That may sound like a dream – for many, it is – but Suzuki's framing of Sakuraba's sharp rise to fame is far more sinister. The film begins by introducing the marketing execs who intend to exploit Reiko long before meeting her face to face. They discuss her physical appearance, her sensuality, her potential star-power and quickly move on to ensuring that their plan to make Reiko readily profitable will work.
Upon becoming a star, Reiko must find ways to balance out the many elements of her complicated life. Overwhelmed by her celebrity status and the pressure of her lifestyle, lived in accordance with whatever she is told to do by those with more power, Reiko's life begins to unfurl, especially when an obsessive fan starts to become increasingly dangerous.
Suzuki's film, though narratively somewhat removed from the works which made him famous to begin with, does remain connected to his '60s classics through its focus on power struggles. Barely able to make her own choices, Reiko is reminiscent of the leading characters of Suzuki's yakuza classics as she, too, is just a pawn in a larger game. And without losing his keenness for absurdity, Suzuki has evolved stylistically, applying his visual flourishes to a cynical view of consumerism, industry secrets and a worldwide focus on reputation and image.
Given that A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness has, for many years, been difficult to view with reliable subtitling or image quality, Radiance's work to restore the film is stunning. The cinematography of Masaru Mori is vibrant and colourful, the editing from Akira Suzuki suitably mad. Where many directors would have opted for a more relaxed and certainly less radical re-introduction after ten years on a blacklist, Suzuki's brazenness is wonderfully characteristic of his films.
LIMITED EDITION BLU-RAY FEATURES
- High-Definition digital transfer
- Original uncompressed PCM mono audio
- Audio commentary by critic and author Samm Deighan (2025)
- New interview with editor Kunihiko Ukai (2025)
- Trailer
- Newly improved English subtitle translation
- Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Sam Smith
- Limited edition booklet featuring new writing by Jasper Sharp and an archival review of the film
- Limited edition of 3000 copies, presented in full-height Scanavo packaging with removable OBI strip leaving packaging free of certificates and markings