The Face of Another (1966)

Hiroshi Teshigahara directed this in the wake of Woman in the Dunes, also based on a Kōbō Abe novel, so it's considered something of a companion piece. It did not fare nearly as well at the international box office, probably because the modern urban setting felt a lot less exotic than the desert. Also, by that time, people were getting tired of artsy projects like Last Year in Marienbad. Still, I got curious.

Following an accident, Mr. Okuyama (Tatsuya Nakadai) keeps his head wrapped in bandages not for healing but to spare even his wife (Machiko Kyō) the sight of his burned face. Despite her and others trying to support him emotionally, he remains terribly bitter -- until his psychiatrist (Mikijirō Hira) gives him an excellently lifelike experimental mask. It looks nothing like his original face; they use a mould from a hired stranger (Hisashi Igawa), albeit with results that look rather different from him too. Okuyama takes a while to get used to the mask and tires of the doctor keeping tabs on him and expressing concern that the mask could influence his personality. Indeed, he deliberately hides his identity from everyone else as best he can. Whatever he was like before, he seems increasingly corrupt.

A secondary plot follows a vaguely similar theme but never intersects with Okuyama's life. It centers on a woman (Miki Irie) who hides facial burns only with her hair, looking rather good otherwise but often shocking people with a sudden glimpse. Her story feels more realistic, if shorter and less detailed. It's also more tragic to me: Unlike Okuyama, she got her burns from the Nagasaki bombing, and her resolution is more desperate.

I'm not so sure of the assigned genres apart from drama. As sci-fi goes, it's almost possible and getting more so every decade. The procedure is nowhere near as horrific as in Eyes Without a Face, and while Okuyama does eventually commit violent crimes (one of which is pardoned far too easily by today's standards), he's hardly scary himself. Most of the creepiness is from surrealist presentation, especially in the psychiatric "office."

Philosophically, it's a pretty interesting subject. The mask may give Okuyama more of an appearance of character, but it also grants him a level of anonymity. At times, he feels alone to the point of imprisonment; at other times, he feels extra free. I suppose it's like the Ring of Gyges or, for a later equivalent, the One Ring, tempting him to take mischievous advantage of "invisibility." I don't quite agree with the doc's suppositions about a whole society of mask wearers. (Typical pandemic masks conceal only so much.) Heck, a few people, including a girl with intellectual disability (Etsuko Ichihara), recognize Okuyama from other cues so easily that they can't tell he's seriously trying to fool anyone.

I won't say, as some have, that Okuyama is too bland. To some extent, blandness may have been intentional to help viewers project themselves or people they know. But he's not an everyman to my eyes. In fact, I rarely relate well to him. This offers the advantage of occasional surprise and the disadvantage of low likability.

I plan to suggest this film for a Meetup discussion. I don't love it, but it merits probing. Someone's bound to have insights I didn't.