6.9/10
Senior Film Conservator

A definitive 6.9/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Fukujusô remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you like movies that rely on heavy atmosphere rather than big explosions, you’ll probably find this fascinating. It’s definitely not for folks who need a fast-paced plot or clear-cut answers. If you’re the type to pick apart character motivations and love a bit of melodramatic tension, you’ll be hooked.
Honestly, the whole thing hinges on what isn't said. There’s this one scene where they’re just sitting near each other, and the way the light hits their faces? It’s doing all the heavy lifting.
The brother, Mitsuo, really kills the vibe. Every time he walks into a room, the air just leaves the space. It’s like he’s playing the role of the ultimate party pooper, but in a way that feels totally grounded and necessary for the friction.
It’s funny, I was thinking about Mother while watching this, just because both films deal with these claustrophobic domestic settings where every little movement carries a ton of weight. But Fukujusô has this different, sharper edge to it.
There’s a specific look Miyoko gives near the middle of the film that basically summarizes the entire conflict. It’s barely a flicker of an eyelid, but it’s devastating. You can tell the actors really put in the work to make these silences count.
I wish the ending had a bit more grit, but maybe that’s just me wanting a different kind of movie. It feels like it wraps up a bit too neatly, almost like the director got nervous about how far they were pushing things.
Still, for a film from this era, it’s remarkably brave. You’re watching these people navigate feelings that they can’t even name, and it’s surprisingly easy to relate to that messy human stuff. 🌸
It’s not a perfect movie by any means. Some shots drag on long enough that you start checking the clock, but then they pull you right back in with a look or a shifting shadow. Just watch it when you’re in a quiet mood.