Red Angel (1966) Bloody And Fearless Japanese Anti-War Satire (Review)

For some, war movies are something to avoid, with their rampant machismo and gleeful jingoism. It doesn’t matter where in the world they originate—this is often true. Given history’s grim record of wartime atrocities, a wave of critical, hyper-politicized anti-war films emerged. And, to be honest, the issue of hyper-masculinity remains, whether the “heroes” fire a gun or not. The essential question I’m skirting around is whether any anti-war movies truly evade these time-honored stereotypes. Mostly, no. However, there are a few exceptions—one being Yasuzo Masumura’s 1966 film Red Angel.

Masumura regular Ayako Wakao stars as the titular angel, Nurse Nishi, who serves during the Sino-Japanese War. Based on a novel by Yoriyoshi Arima—one that even the authoritative Tony Rayns admits to being puzzled by (as noted in a newly recorded introduction)—Red Angel offers an episodic look at the trials and tribulations of a young nurse at the height of the war. Fresh on the job, Nishi is assigned to a hospital ward housing men with minor injuries—men desperate to avoid reassignment to the front lines. As a young, attractive nurse, she immediately attracts unwanted attention. This leads to the first of many traumatic experiences: she is raped by the soldiers. Red Angel is no glorification of Japanese wartime conduct—on the contrary, Masumura goes for the jugular.

Nishi is reassigned to a makeshift ward in occupied Chinese territory, where she cares for a soldier who has lost both arms. Despite warnings from senior nurses to remain emotionally detached and focus on self-preservation, she cannot help but extend a final moment of affection to the maimed soldier—an act that ends in tragedy. Later, she serves under a senior doctor, Dr. Okabe (Shinsuke Ashida), first in the Chinese slums and later at the front line, where she develops feelings for him.

In the latter setting, Red Angel benefits from being in black and white. One scene shows rows upon rows of bodies waiting for overwhelmed doctors who can do little more than amputate limbs in desperate attempts to save lives. In one particularly harrowing moment, a soldier requires a leg amputation, but only a local anesthetic is available. Had Masumura filmed in color, the title would have been literal, and the film would have easily received an X rating. Later, a cholera outbreak escalates the horror, with the dead being unceremoniously thrown into mass graves. This outbreak stems from a “comfort woman” infecting soldiers who refuse to abstain from sex—resorting to coercion, even with the deathly ill, or once again threatening to assault nurses. There’s bleak, and then there’s Red Angel.

As noted in the extras—particularly Rayns’ introduction and Jonathan Rosenbaum’s visual essay Not All Angels Have Wings—many veterans of the Sino-Japanese War praised Masumura’s film for its frontline authenticity. For a film like this to emerge from a country that has historically supported its military and warrior classes is remarkable. It is not a pleasant film by any metric, but it is as bold and fearless as they come—unflinching, bloodied satire that few directors would have the stomach for.

As passionate and open as Ayako Wakao’s performance is in the titular role, the way her character develops remains my biggest reservation. She falls in love with the much older Dr. Okabe, introducing a melodramatic streak at odds with a story centered on a nurse whose empathy leaves a trail of dead bodies in its wake. At best, it feels like a forced romantic subplot designed to appeal to an audience unlikely to watch such a film. At worst, it seems like a deliberate attempt to justify Nishi’s presence on the front lines, undermining her agency and stripping her actions of any real, meaningful logic. Either way, it does Red Angel no favors. Even so, Red Angel remains one of the most fascinating Japanese films of the 1960s—another key entry in the country’s uniquely divergent wave of anti-war cinema, tackling the subject with a far more direct approach than Godzilla and the like ever could.

ROB’S ARCHIVE – RED ANGEL (1966)