Political revolution represented in film can be one of the most inspirational depictions of human history on the screen. I think back to The Battle of Algiers (Pontecorvo, 1966) and the depiction of uprising through violent resistance by the Algerian people against the French imperialist forces. Or to Steve McQueen’s powerful Troubles film Hunger (2008) where we see the lengths rulers will go to keep resistance quiet and how far revolutionaries will go to make their plight heard.
While the narrative drama can produce amazing works featuring revolutionary figures and struggles, the documentary can produce some intensive and brutal depictions of those who face persecution from a ruling people. I think of Gaza Fights for Freedom (Martin, 2019) showcasing the Palestinian struggle for independence from the Israeli apartheid occupation. Or the struggle for racial equality through violent action shown in LA 92 (Martin & Lindsay, 2017) after the acquittal of four officers responsible for the beating of Rodney King.
These films are all showcases of revolution through protest and violent action. What separates these from The Emperor’s Naked Army Marches On (1987) is the depiction of collection action featuring large swaths of likeminded people. People part of a socio-political underclass whether they are organized or not seeking an improvement in their representation in their country or region. Seeking sweeping change through violent action. What spoke to me about The Emperor’s Naked Army Marches On is that it surrounds a single actor in his personal revolution, Kenzo Okuzaki.
Okuzaki is a veteran of Japan’s World War II campaign in New Guinea. A largely ineffective operation that saw over 200,000 deaths on the Japanese side of the War. Many of whom died as a result of starvation and lack of supplies after being left exposed by military leaders. Okuzaki is one of those soldiers who survived and as sought a life mission to uncovering the cover-up to multiple deaths at the hands of the upper brass of the Japanese military. He pursues answers to these deaths after traveling throughout Japan, seeking out his former superiors.
We are introduced to Okuzaki while seeing him drive a truck, painted with criticism of Japanese Emperor Hirohito (In power from, 1926-1989). He gets stopped by police, ran off the road by other drivers and holds nothing back when challenging the systems of power when getting told to kowtow to pressure. In multiple harrowing scenes, Okuzaki approaches these former officers and never concedes his ideology in the face of resistance. As Okuzaki continues his journey he does not hold back from using violence against those who committed these crimes. He uncovers more information regarding the deaths of his former platoon members. Even as detailed as the approximate arrangement of those ordered to perform the execution. Those who he interviews are largely members of platoon leadership, where he interrogates about specific details regarding their orders and actions during the New Guinea campaign.
One of the first interactions we see between Okuzaki and another soldier results in a physical altercation only broken up by the family of the soldier. We are witness to this revolutionary spirit that acts as an army of one against the lies and crimes of the Japanese military. Okuzaki’s ideology sees no wavery in the face of rejection. He pressures soldiers for extended periods of time, not allowing them to change the subject matter. Catching them in lies and asserting the truth against them until they give him any information he wants. While watching these conversations transpire it is more surprising that there are fewer physical altercations, most interactions are extremely tense. Especially when Okuzaki is accompanied by family members of the deceased. In this case we see a three-pronged attack against the soldiers being questioned. The soldiers tend to break after being shown photos of the soldiers who had been killed. On top of Okuzaki pushing them further with his interrogation.
In the films mentioned in the introduction, collective action weather organized or not is a marker of revolution in film. Sometimes we can see revolution exemplified by a single actor. Take “Tank Man”, a symbol of action against authority during the 1989 Tiananmen Square protest. Or Peter Liebing’s 1961 photograph Leap Into Freedom, showing a German soldier escaping over barbed wire from East Germany to West Germany. These pieces of media are examples of single subjects representing a larger struggle against a system of power. In The Emperor’s Naked Army Marches On, Okuzaki is this figure through a full runtime.
Every frame representing a moment he attacks the systems of power that try to silence his mission to uncover the truth. Okuzaki represents revolutionary ideology through and through, he positions himself against the most powerful institutions and the historical narrative without any fear against his own imprisonment. After the war, Okuzaki had been to jail for 10 years previously for an accidental murder he committed against an insurance broker that stole his investment. During his time in prison, he began his attacks on Japan’s monarchy. Speaking out against Capital Punishment and the actions of Hirohito in World War II.
Okuzaki’s relentless pursuit of justice, even as a solitary figure, transcends the personal vendetta against his former superiors. It becomes a symbolic resistance against the suppression of historical truths and the institutionalized cover-up of wartime atrocities. Okuzaki and the film serve as a profound exploration of the power of an individual to challenge established narratives and question the actions of those in authority.
The film raises poignant questions about the responsibility of individuals to confront the past, even when faced with societal opposition. Okuzaki’s insistence on accountability challenges the audience to consider the broader implications of historical amnesia and the consequences of allowing those in power to control the narrative. The personal sacrifices made by Okuzaki, including his previous imprisonment and his continued defiance, underscore the lengths to which an individual can go to seek justice.
As we witness Okuzaki’s solitary struggle unfold on the screen, it becomes evident that his actions are not merely about settling scores from the past. Instead, they serve as a catalyst for broader discussions of revolutionary struggle and ethical responsibilities of those in positions of power. The Emperor’s Naked Army Marches On encourages us to critically engage with historical narratives, acknowledging the role of individual actors in shaping the collective understanding of the past and how a single individual can find answers to give both him and the deceased some clarity.
In conclusion, the film stands as a powerful testament to the potential impact of individual resistance against historical injustices. Okuzaki’s trip makes us revaluate the idea of revolution by highlighting the fact that one person may sometimes personify the spirit of revolt and serve as a spark for social change. The Emperor’s Naked Army Marches On transcends beyond just a documentary about one man’s fight for justice and instead becomes an appeal to everyone to reject and confront the dark truths that exist throughout the world today.
The FilmSpot 