The Face of Another is a 1966 Japanese New Wave film directed by Hiroshi Teshigahara and based on the 1964 novel of the same name written by Kōbō Abe. The story follows an engineer, Okuyama, whose face is severely burnt in an unspecified work-related accident and is given a new face in the form of a lifelike mask.
Plot
Okuyama's face was disfigured in an industrial accident, and his face is completely covered in burns; he wears bandages to cover them. He visits Dr. Hira, a psychiatrist who is able to fashion a "mask" for Okuyama to wear which is indistinguishable from the face on which it is modeled. Hira and Okuyama pay a man 10,000 yen to serve as the model for the mask, and the mask is built and fitted onto Okuyama. Hira cautions Okuyama that the mask may change his behavior and personality so much that he will cease to be the same person that he was. Hira believes that this disassociation with his identity will cause Okuyama to lose his sense of morality if he is not careful. Okuyama tells no one that he has received the mask, and simply lives as a new man, telling his wife that he is traveling on business while he rents an apartment nearby. While continuing to dismiss Hira's fears, he decides to seduce his wife using his new identity. When he obtains this too easily, full of rage, he reveals himself to her, who in turn said she had known from the first moment. Their roles are now swapped, as Okuyama tries to persuade her to give their relation another chance and she leaves disappointed. In the final scenes he is seen attempting to rape a woman on the street, claiming to be nobody when arrested. He is then freed thanks to Hira who, called by the police who found his business card in Okuyama's pocket, claims he is one of his patients, despite Okuyama's protest. In the last scene, Hira, who has just witnessed his nightmare become a reality, sees everyone around him wearing a mask, as a fulfillment of his prophecy. At first he asks Okuyama for the mask back, then lets him keep it as he is a free man, but, as they are parting ways, Okuyama stabs him. Interleaved throughout the film is a separate tale of a young woman whose otherwise beautiful face suffered a severe disfigurement on the right cheek, and right side of the neck. She works in a home for World War II veterans and lives with her brother. The imagery of the film, as well as her obsessive worry about the coming of another war, and her asking her brother if he still remembers the sea at Nagasaki, all suggest that her scars came as a result of the atomic bombing of that city. Like Okuyama, she is embarrassed by her disfigurement.
The film uses several doublings of shots, both by repeating shots verbatim and by placing the main character in nearly identical shots twice. The most obvious example is in Okuyama's two separate rentals of apartments, once masked, and once with his new face. These doublings highlight Okuyama's double existence.
Production
One recurring image is the large and small severed ears which appears in the scenery in several scenes. These ears were designed and sculpted by Japanese sculptor Tomio Miki. Hira's office, a strange blank space with glass partitions, was designed by architect Arata Isozaki, a friend of Teshigahara's. The glass walls are painted with Langer's lines and the Vitruvian Man.
Release
The Face of Another had a roadshow on 15 July 1966 in Japan where it was distributed by Toho. The film received general release in Japan on 23 September 1967. The film received a theatrical release in the United States on 9 June 1967. It was re-issued in the United States in May 1975 by Rising Sun and Toho.
Critical reception
The film has a rating of 100% review aggregator site Rotten Tomatoes, based on 7 critical reviews with an average rating of 7.5/10. The Face of Another was not well received upon its initial release, with audiences and critics largely feeling that it did not live up to Teshigahara's earlier film The Woman in the Dunes. Although it was successful in Japan, the film was a critical and financial failure internationally at the time of its release. Vincent Canby of The New York Times wrote, "As fiction it's too fanciful to be seriously compelling and too glib to be especially thought-provoking."
