Mishima

Writer-director Paul Schrader's films are always as memorable for their music as they are for their visuals–sometimes more so. Think of Giorgio Moroder's synthesizers pulsing through Cat People; think of Blondie's anthem for American Gigolo; think of Scott Johnson's remarkable score for Patty Hearst–and think of the full suite of music composed by Philip Glass for Schrader's ode to the deeply conflicted Japanese novelist Yukio Mishima. With its gilded, impressionistic set and its plot-eschewing cinematic vision, Mishima depended upon Glass's compositions for grounding.

Philip Glass’ soundtrack to the 1985 film Mishima gained a new following when its opening was used in 1998’s The Truman Show. Pianist Maki Namekawa, an acclaimed interpreter of Glass’ piano works, performs a new arrangement of the atmospheric score, following precisely its original scheme and including as much of the orchestral and chamber textures within the piano version as possible. Namekawa voices Glass’ often heartrending music with a beautiful evenness of touch, a warmth of tone, and a sense of the composer’s compelling narrative arc. In her hands, Mishima emerges renewed, a stand-alone modern masterpiece.

Dans l'intimité de sa chambre, un jeune garçon s'éveille au désir en parcourant les pages d'un livre d'art. Obsédé par la beauté stupéfiante du corps nu, ligoté et mordu de flèches de saint Sébastien, il laisse libre cours à ses rêveries cruelles où l'objet de son fantasme est torturé, tué, dévoré. Dans la rue, il est attiré par les matelots et les petits voyous, et à l'école par un charismatique camarade de classe dont l'assurance et le charme le subjuguent. …