NOTE: The below Blu-ray captures were taken directly from the Blu-ray disc.

ADDITION: Radiance Blu-ray (April 2025): Radiance have transferred Seijun Suzuki's A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness to Blu-ray. In 2003, we reviewed the Panorama DVD of A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness HERE. It was weak - cropped, non-progressive, non-anamorphic, ineffective subtitle translation, etc. Radiance's maxed out 1080P transfer supports this visually striking and thematically complex Japanese film that marked the director’s return to feature filmmaking after a decade-long blacklist by major studios following his dismissal from Nikkatsu in 1967. Comparatively, the HD presentation is a revelation. It's tighter, crisper, more balanced colors, depth... It looks impressive on Blu-ray. 

NOTE: We have added 80 more large resolution Blu-ray captures (in lossless PNG format) for DVDBeaver Patrons HERE

On their Blu-ray, Radiance use a linear PCM dual-mono track (16-bit) in the original Japanese language. There is one instance of English spoken - where there are burned-in Japanese subtitles. Suzuki, working with composer Keitaro Miho (his last film credit) and sound designer Tetsuya Ôhashi (47 Ronin, The Makioka Sisters,) crafts an auditory experience that mirrors the film’s visual chaos, blending traditional Japanese music, modern pop influences, and expressionistic sound effects to underscore the narrative’s descent from satirical melodrama to psychological horror. The jazzy, upbeat tracks in the early scenes evoke the era’s pop music, particularly the kind used in commercials and idol promotions, aligning with the film’s critique of media manipulation and the commodification of women. The rhythmic thwack of golf balls, the murmur of the crowd, and the click of cameras create a lively auditory environment that mirrors the visual spectacle of Reiko’s rise to fame. The sound of A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness is as bold and unconventional as its visuals, cementing Suzuki’s reputation as a visionary director who uses every element of cinema to challenge and provoke. Radiance's A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness Region FREE Blu-ray offers optional English subtitles.

The Radiance Blu-ray offers a new commentary by critic and author Samm Deighan (Revolution in 35mm: Political Violence and Resistance in Cinema from the Arthouse to the Grindhouse, 1960–1990.) Deighan offers a detailed analysis of the film, focusing on its thematic depth, visual style, and historical context. She begins by situating the film within Suzuki’s career, noting its significance as his return to feature filmmaking after being blacklisted by Nikkatsu in 1967 for the experimental Branded to Kill. Deighan highlights how the film reflects Suzuki’s bitterness toward the industry, with Reiko’s exploitation by the media mirroring Suzuki’s own struggles with studio constraints. Deighan delves into the film’s critique of 1970s Japanese consumer culture, pointing out how the golfing plot - a sport associated with wealth and status - serves as a satirical jab at the era’s materialism. She also explores the feminist undertones, emphasizing Reiko’s lack of agency and the way her image is commodified, drawing parallels to Suzuki’s earlier female characters in films like Gate of Flesh (1964). Deighan’s commentary is particularly strong in its analysis of Suzuki’s visual style, noting the pop-art influences, vibrant colors, and theatrical compositions that define the film’s look. This commentary is a valuable resource for understanding the film’s layers, offering both a critical interpretation and a historical framework. Deighan’s enthusiasm for Suzuki’s work shines through, making the commentary engaging for both newcomers and longtime fans, though it may feel dense for those unfamiliar with Suzuki’s broader oeuvre. There is also a new 20-minute interview with editor Kunihiko Ukai (Jeanne d'Arc in Pink) who provides a behind-the-scenes look at the production of A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness. He was an assistant editor with primary editor being Akira Suzuki (Youth of the Beast, Gate of Flesh, Story of a Prostitute) - no relation to the director. Ukai, who worked closely with Suzuki on the film, offers insights into the editing process and Suzuki’s directorial approach, shedding light on how the film’s fragmented, chaotic style was achieved. He begins by discussing Suzuki’s return to filmmaking after his blacklist, noting the director’s determination to make a bold statement with this project. He describes Suzuki’s editing philosophy, which prioritized mood and rhythm over conventional narrative coherence - a hallmark of his avant-garde style. Ukai recounts how Suzuki would often shoot scenes with multiple takes, then experiment in the editing room, cutting abruptly or using zooms and freeze-frames to create a sense of disorientation. He highlights specific sequences, like the golf tournament, where rapid zooms and split-screen effects were used to convey the media frenzy, explaining how these choices were made to reflect the film’s satirical tone. The Radiance Blu-ray includes the original theatrical trailer for A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness. The Blu-ray comes with a reversible sleeve featuring two pieces of artwork: one original and one newly commissioned by artist Sam Smith. The package also has a limited edition booklet featuring new writing by Jasper Sharp (Behind the Pink Curtain: The Complete History of Japanese Sex Cinema,) a noted film historian and author specializing in Japanese cinema, as well as an archival review of the film from its 1977 release. The booklet is part of Radiance Films’ tradition of providing in-depth written material with their releases, limited to 3,000 copies. The booklet is a valuable addition, offering both a modern critical perspective and a historical snapshot.

Seijun Suzuki's A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness, his first feature since Branded to Kill (1967), blends elements of psychological thriller, social satire, and melodrama, using his signature avant-garde style to critique the commodification of women, the perils of fame, and the consumerist culture of 1970s Japan. The film’s structure is episodic and fragmented, reflecting Suzuki’s penchant for non-linear storytelling and his rejection of conventional narrative coherence - a trait that got him fired from Nikkatsu. This disjointed structure mirrors the chaos of Reiko’s mental state, as well as the fractured nature of a society obsessed with spectacle and consumption. The film explores themes of psychological entrapment and the loss of identity. Reiko’s journey from model to golfer to victim is a descent into a nightmarish loss of self, as she becomes a prisoner of both her fame and the boy’s control. A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness is a bold, if uneven, return for Seijun Suzuki, showcasing his avant-garde style while tackling the dark side of fame and consumerism in 1970s Japan. While not as celebrated as Branded to Kill or Tokyo Drifter, the film remains a fascinating entry in Suzuki’s oeuvre, offering a unique blend of social satire and psychological horror that continues to resonate with audiences today. Its exploration of exploitation, identity, and the cost of fame makes it a prescient work, cementing Suzuki’s status as one of Japan’s most visionary directors. The Radiance Blu-ray of A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness is very strong; Samm Deighan’s audio commentary is the standout, providing a scholarly analysis that contextualizes the film within Suzuki’s career and 1970s Japanese culture, making it essential for those seeking a deeper understanding. The interview with Kunihiko Ukai offers a rare behind-the-scenes perspective, shedding light on Suzuki’s editing process and creative vision, while the limited edition booklet adds collectible value, with Jasper Sharp’s essay and the archival review offering both contemporary and historical insights. For the director's completist fans and Japanese cinema scholars, the Radiance Blu-ray is a must-own.

Gary Tooze