Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985)

Schrader's film reaches the peak of his search for lonely protagonists by blending straight biography with stylized depictions of Mishima's inner world and novels, making an unsavoury character compelling through wit, honour, and artistic dedication, highlighted by stunning stage recreations, Glass score, and photography.

The critic calls it Schrader's magnum opus, a dreamy hypnotic meditation on the intersection of Mishima's life and art rather than a conventional biopic. It praises the elegant juxtaposition of biographical scenes with dramatizations of the author's novels, along with the cinematography that unites sound, image, ideas, and sensual rapture.

The critic describes it as a daringly original biopic that interweaves Mishima's life in black-and-white with colourful dramatizations of his novels, ultimately reflecting more on Schrader's own neuroses than the subject. It is praised as an exceptional, original movie that is ravishingly shot with a hauntingly brilliant Philip Glass score.

Schrader’s unconventional biopic is one of the best, using a tripartite structure of black-and-white biography, stylized novel excerpts in vivid color, and the final day of Mishima’s life to examine how the writer fused his art, obsessions, and death. The film’s clarity and intelligence make it a singular achievement despite its challenging subject.

The critic describes the film as an avant-garde portrait keyed to Mishima's aesthetic and spiritual evolution, using theatrical stagings of his novels to explore his shifting mindset and impulses toward self-annihilation. It singles out the film's ambitious structure and how it takes seriously the creative journey leading to his death while shining on the restored transfer.

The gorgeous, artsy 1985 biopic is the best movie Paul Schrader has directed. It presents a compelling and contradictory figure through monochrome flashbacks and garish color enactments of his work, with a monumental performance from Ken Ogata.

Schrader’s collage is one of the most gorgeous and sophisticated portraits of an artist on film, showing how Mishima strove to unite art, life, and politics through stylized novel dramatizations and a realistic account of his final day. The movie itself is a work of art with enormous vitality.

Schrader's innovative biopic interweaves reality, memory, and imagination to explore how Mishima's life and art were inseparable, culminating in his dramatic suicide as the ultimate artistic act. The critic praises the film's visual styles and Philip Glass score for illuminating the parallels between the author's novels and his personal obsessions.

Schrader’s boldly conceived film is an intelligent and consistently absorbing study that blends realistic elements of Mishima’s final day with stylized renditions of his semi-autobiographical novels. Production values are stunning and performances authoritative, though pacing lags at times and uninitiated viewers may be confused.

The piece notes that Schrader's 1985 biopic necessarily condenses Mishima's controversial life but highlights its superb visual style, a haunting score by Philip Glass and an impressive lead performance by Ken Ogata.

The film is a beautiful, deadly serious attempt to illuminate Mishima’s enigmatic life and death through intercut biography, stylized novel excerpts, and his final day, with stunning production design by Eiko Ishioka. Structural complications and omissions leave it tantalizing but difficult to fully enter.

Paul Schrader's 1985 film is an ambitious, respectful account of Yukio Mishima's life and work. It intersperses biographical episodes with stylized dramatizations of his novels and is stylish but emotionally constrained.

The film is a splintered but tolerable attempt to portray Mishima’s narcissism and death obsession through excerpts from his novels, though it may confuse viewers unfamiliar with the source material. Maslin finds it engaging enough to potentially send audiences to the books, particularly The Temple of the Golden Pavilion.

The review praises the film as a singular, visually striking experience and the high point of Paul Schrader's directorial career, noting its respectful yet bold approach to Japanese culture and themes through intercut biography and stylized novel adaptations.

Schrader has referred to ‘Mishima’ as his best work as director and the motion picture is a tremendous accomplishment with arresting imagery and stylistic flourishes. It embraces the director’s favorite concepts through a portrait that blends reality and fiction aided by a moving Philip Glass score.

The review describes it as a beautiful, meticulous portrait of a tortured artist that serves as an homage to Japanese film and culture, highlighting the strong performance by Ken Ogata and Philip Glass's score in a Criterion edition context.

The film is a striking and fascinating one-off that looks fantastic with a magnificent Philip Glass score and a mesmerizing central performance from Ken Ogata. It is a consciously arty meditation that disorients the viewer and may prove too challenging or elusive for some tastes despite its memorable moments.