Reviewed by Alison Clifton

According to Scott Nygren in his Introduction to Time Frames: Japanese Cinema and the Unfolding of History, books “engage specific sets of determining figures to produce work indirectly by way of a discursive agency and work through the conflicts and misrecognitions consequent in any textual process” (xvii). For this reason, Nygren claims that his work resists the notion that “books are like ‘high-concept’ films; they can be summarized in two sentences or less for a TV Guide version of the text” (xvii).

Nygren’s reservations aside, I shall endeavour to perform such a feat. This textbook, over a modest 298-pages, is concerned with representations of time in Japanese culture, particularly in Japanese film, and the inflections of history generated by these narratives. A secondary concern is the difficulty inherent in situating Japan in a world context: the resulting dislocations across cultural difference make murky the already complex study of world cinema.

Nygren’s writing is interesting if dense, with postmodern terms and references to Foucault and Derrida. This makes for hard-going reading at times, but on the whole the battle is worth it for those interested in the phenomenon of time in film who have the patience to deal with frequent references to Lacan. What I enjoyed about this book is that it showcases a sheer smorgasbord of Japanese movies: the best of a wondrously diverse and frequently avant-garde, often groundbreaking national body of cinema.

The Preface opens with the following tantalising summaries of two quite different but equally remarkable films:

The women, who have spent virtually their entire lives inside a geisha house in Gion, climb to the rooftop and look out toward smoke on the horizon. It is 1866, and Choshu troops are on the verge of entering Kyoto, bringing with them the Imperial Restoration and unleashing the modernization of Japan.

The children, who have spent virtually their entire lives inside and nearby an isolated apartment in Nishi-Sugamo, abandoned by their mother, travel away from home for the first time to bury the youngest girl, who has fallen and died, at the edge of Haneda international airport. It is 1988, and the four abandoned children are afraid to contact anyone outside for fear they would be separated, and their bond as family would end. (vii)

The Meiji Restoration and the moment when the Japanese Bubble Economy bursts in 1990 are major turning points in time or in history (two markedly separate concepts in Nygren’s theory). The Meiji Restoration saw the modernisation of Japan and the opening up of the country to Western influences, while the collapse of the Bubble led to the so-called Lost Decade at the end of the twentieth-century. For those new to Japanese culture and history, may it be known that this is a remarkable country with an intriguing past. For those new to Japanese culture and history, may it be known that this book does not form the best introduction to these concepts. However, Nygren does not intend for his work to be an introductory text: clearly, it is not aimed at dabblers.

If you are a fan of Japanese cinema or have substantial knowledge of cinematic concepts not necessarily focused on Japanese film, then Nygren’s work should prove alluring. If, like me, you are not impressed by Lacan and Freud, then this is not the book for you.

Perhaps the most interesting feature of Nygren’s study is his contention, not particularly novel nowadays but nevertheless well-articulated, that “the noncategory of the ‘East’ [is] both metaphysical fantasy and mobile boundary” (xviii).  Nygren treats as “volatile and unstable” the three foundational terms of “Japan”, “film” and “history” (xviii). He raises as problematic the notion that Japanese film of the pre-war era can be viewed accurately from the present, considering that the discursive context of Japanese film history through which we now view the event of the first Japanese film and evaluate its significance was not in place at that time. While he makes a good point, I fail to see any solution to the problem, short of building a machine that would simultaneously transport us back in time to the first Japanese feature film and wipe our memories of all that we now know of Japanese film history. And even then, without our memories of Japanese film history, what language would we use to articulate our new-found knowledge of the event? This renders Nygren’s point somewhat farcical and definitely moot.

This is a shame. Nygren’s book contains some fascinating insights, but both the impracticality of following up the points he makes and the frankly bizarre pseudo-Freudian nature of Chapter Three detract from this book’s appeal. This chapter considers, in Nygren’s words, “the textual and libidinal incisions of the written body, or the body as text, which acts as a foundational embodiment prior to narrative discourse and historical agency” (xviii). This sounds stimulating, and likely to provide decent fodder for dinner party conversations, but then I read on and spot the warning word: “psychoanalysis”.  Why lend any credence to this outdated theory, based on the ramblings of Freud, whose case studies, mostly written up from “memory” two or three years after the fact and involving mainly female subjects from Vienna at the turn of the century, are hardly representative of all people in all countries from all economic and social backgrounds in all eras and all situations? It is beyond my ken. What on earth does Nygren mean by “All knowledge and experience is thereby embodied, or situated, as specific materialities of media transform economies of infantile sexuality” (xviii)?

After seemingly logical and clear argumentation in earlier chapters, the book takes, in my opinion, a bizarre turn. Psychoanalysis has long since been discredited in the scientific community, so why do its mostly ridiculous, frequently hilarious, but no doubt potentially dangerous notions still persist in the area of Arts and Humanities? It beggars belief.

The Freudian and Lacanian aspects of Chapter Three are unfortunate, because Nygren clearly has a masterful knowledge of Japanese film, a vast and insightful comprehension of the history of kanji and kana and its employment in film and a deep and doting knowledge of Japanese culture, as well as a formidable command of the Japanese language. If only he would use his powers for good instead of psychoanalysis.

Time Frames: Japanese Cinema and the Unfolding of History
(2007)

by Scott Nygren
University of Minnesota Press
ISBN: 9780816647088
298pp US$25.00