A brief yet otherwise wonderful foray into the realm of cinema by the artistic and cultural virtuoso that was Yukio Mishima, 'Yukoku' is a short manifestation of the philosophy of Yukio Mishima, which deals heavily with patriotic and militaristic themes, and works in adherence to his belief in the notion that in the warrior tradition of the Nipponese, death by ritual suicide was a heavenly act.

Yukoku is rather a quick watch, not even being longer than half an hour in length. If one has already read any of his books, one will easily establish that the exact same ideal manifests itself on screen as it does in his written work. Some of the set pieces, some of the fierce eroticism and bloodshed that is this film's centrepiece, give us a great insight in the psyche, and the potential narcissism of Mishima, with his obsession for consummate poise and physical perfection made very clear in the film. The militaristic theme of death before dishonor also evokes the main theme of 'Runaway Horses', which is the second installment of his 'Sea Of Fertility' series.

The film consists of five parts, which chronicle in written dialogue the participation of a lieutenant in a military coup, and his decision to commit seppuku, along with his wife, who joins him in doing so. Prior to this, the centrepiece of the film is a lengthy sexual scene between Takeyama (played by Mishima) and his wife (played by Yoshiko Tsuruoka), and exploits quite poignantly the transcendental functions of sexual foreplay in the interval between love and death.

This is followed by the seppuku of Mishima's character, which is a painful and slow rite of disembowlment, once again is attempt by Mishima to both exalt and sensualise death before dishonor. Mishima always appeared to hold positive inclinations about death, and it seems wished for such a portrayal to deem ritual death as a means of smiling in the face of such an entity in its midst, and accepting rebirth beyond the physical limitations of dying.

The film is overlaid by a dramatic, and rather romantic musical score, that is rather similar to that of a vintage Hollywood romance, full of crescendos that lessen, and then rise again as if in some form of emotive suspense. On assumptive grounds, one would imagine that such a western-styled element would not be cohesive with a film whose ideological content and technique is contrasted against it. Mishima suceeds in this choice, balancing this with some lengthy camera shots and as stated earlier, an excellent use of aesthetics and non-dialogue posture.

Yukoku is a good film. It marries all of the themes that are dominant in the mind and writings of Yukio Mishima, and he suceeds in bringing them onto the camera with an honor and dignity that one probably wouldnt witness in Western cinema. It is worthy piece of work to a list of great works and acheivements by a true artistic savant.