A good example why films should always be considered within the context of their time. Carmen Comes Home was the first Japanese film to be fully shot in color. To showcase the new technique, Shiro Kido, the head of the Shochiku film studios that employed Kinoshita, gave him the instructions to film as many outdoor scenes as possible. So he wrote a story that took place in the countryside and had a natural reason why most scenes take place under the sky. Furthermore, the film came about just when the American occupation of the country was over. Carmen Comes Home could be seen as a lighthearted comedy specifically targeted at female audiences. But that would mean to ignore the social commentary and underlying critique of Japanese self-effacement that is very present in the film and was a big issue in the public sphere at the time. It is also noteworthy that there are a lot of discussions between the characters in the film about how traditional art relates to modern art. Given that Kinoshita employed for the first time the new Fujicolor technique, that factor can not be seen as innocent.
After finding some success as a stripper in Tokyo, Okin comes home to her village at the foot of Mount Asama to be cheered and admired. But this exercise in self-aggrandizement doesn't go well with her father, a farmer, who hasn't forgiven her that she ran away. Okin, who goes by the stage name of Lily Carmen, also causes an upheaval at a local festival. She and her sidekick finally decide to put on a nude show the night before they leave to go back to Tokyo, permitting the local crooked businessman to make a lot of money, but humiliating her father. However, she gives her pay to her father and the local school. When she leaves, she is cheered at by some locals but, the film seems to suggest, for all the wrong reasons.
Several things of interest in the script. Kinoshita is not so much interested in Okin's psychology and how she perceives her hometown, as to see the impact of her presence on the village. Even before she arrives, we are introduced to a variety of villagers and get first glimpses of the small town politics and power struggles within the community. With Okin present, Kinoshita can now let her interact with different characters and follow their reactions. There is a strong emphasis on art making. Okin constantly refers to her dance as "art" and one conflict in the village is that the local composer had to sell his organ to the crooked businessman to pay off some debt. During the festival, the composer plays his newest song, clearly moving Okin, but her sidekick looses her skirt and the entire village laughs at her, interrupting the song. The composer now thinks that people are laughing at him and wants to leave. This incident stands metaphorically for the underlying questioning of the value of "modern" or "city" art compared to "traditional" or "rural" art. This problem is intricately linked to the question of "Japanese" art. Okin is a clear specimen of blind Westernization. She has an English stage name, wears Western clothes that shock some villagers, and is a striptease dancer. Her contempt for the happenings at the village, her fixation on material things, and, above all, the fact that she demands to be applauded by the people of the village for the fact that she attained some sort of "glory" in the big city clearly speak to a form of alienating fixation on "modern" and "Western" ways in Japanese society at the time. If Kinoshita seems to see that with a rather critical eye, he tries to reconcile "modernity" and "tradition", values and money, in that Okin's pay, although accruing from her dancing nude in front of the entire village, benefits the school and enables the composer to get back his organ.
Clearly, Carmen Come Home was designed to show off the new Fujicolor technique. The green pastures and endless blue skies are the perfect backdrop to Okin's colorful wardrobe. Prime colors dominate throughout the film, and it seems like the Japanese countryside has never seen a single day of rain or even clouds. Even though there was a black and white version that was filmed simultaneously (and the sequel, Carmen's Pure Love, was shot only in black and white), the film was clearly designed to be shot in color and it has aged surprisingly well. The editing is superb. We often open a scene with a close up of an object or a face, and gradually widen the shots. With each new shot we get a new piece of visual information, or are prepared for the next shot with new information. But Kinoshita also doesn't hesitate to let dialogue scenes play out in one single shot, often framing the actors so they could use their entire body. There is nothing fancy about the framing or the editing. We get restrained mastery.
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