Volume II: Filmography

THE BIRTH OF THE LOTUS BLOSSOM

September 13, 1912 (Friday)

Length: 1 reel

Character: Drama

Director: Albert W. Hale

Scenario: From a traditional Japanese legend

Cast: Miss Taku Takagi (as O Cho) and "our special Japanese Stock Company"

Notes: 1. Thanhouser learned that three Broadway theatres would be featuring Japanese plays during the autumn season, and sought to capitalize on what was viewed as a coming popular trend. This film was billed as "the first story in our Japanese series." 2. The October 1912 issue of The Motion Picture Story Magazine carried an illustrated (with scenes from the film) six-page story of the same title, by Leona Radnor, derived from an expansion of the film plot.

ADVERTISEMENT, The New York Dramatic Mirror, September 4, 1912:

"The first story in our Japanese series - produced by a special Japanese stock company, headed by Miss Taku Takagi. Real depictions of real Japanese life, by real Japanese photoplayers... Remember, Japanese plays will be the rage on Broadway this fall!... A really exclusive proposition - no other film maker has a Japanese producing company."

ARTICLE, The New York World, August 25, 1912. Reprinted in The Moving Picture World, September 7, 1912:

"MISS TAKAGI, THANHOUSER PLAYER, THINKS PICTURE WORK FUN: The patronizers of moving picture shows have recently seen a pretty little Japanese girl acting in many Japanese pictures and wondered whether she is a real Japanese girl or not. Hundreds of moving pictures have been made with Japanese girls in the picture, but none of them were real Japanese girls. All the parts of Japanese girls have been played by American actresses imitating the Japanese. But the pretty little Japanese girl who is seen on the moving picture screen lately is a real Japanese girl. She is Miss Taku Takagi, the first Japanese actress who had ever posed for moving pictures. She has played O Cho in The Birth of the Lotus Flower, O San in a play called The Mikado, and in several other Japanese parts. But she does not like the acting for moving picture shows, but she is doing it because there is lots of fun.

"'Acting for moving pictures is such fun, but it isn't so easy as it looks. The hardest part is that they want me to play an Americanized Japanese. They want me to play just like a Japanese girl the American imagines. Lots of actresses who never saw Japan played the Japanese girl parts, and they want me to act just like those American actresses did. When I am trying to act naturally, then somebody says, "Cut it out, you don't look like a Japanese." But I don't know how the Americans want a Japanese girl to act. I am a Japanese and I am trying to act naturally as I did in Japan. But they don't want that. In The Mikado I have to die. I am supposed to be the wife of a Japanese spy who is sent to Russia by the Mikado to get the plan of the Russian fortification. He makes all arrangements with an army officer of Russia, but when the time to get the plan comes the Japanese spy is so happy that he drinks too much liquor and is asleep. I dress myself in my husband's clothes and get the plan from the Russian officer. I get it, but I am shot in my heart. My husband goes back to Japan with the plan and I die in the hotel. In the rehearsal I die just as naturally as I can do. Then they don't want me to die that way. They want me to die like an American heroine. So I ask the stage director to let me know how people die when they are shot. He tells me that they just die, but I cannot just die, as they say. If you see the picture you will see that I was a Japanese girl all through, but when I die I become an American.'

"When she was asked whether she wishes to be a moving picture actress all the time, she said: 'Oh no! It's fun and I like it. But I don't want to keep it up. I want to act on stage. But not yet; I am now studying the American dancing and singing. I want to be a comedienne. I don't like to become a tragedian, although people think I ought to be a tragic heroine. I hate the scene with lots of people dying. The other hard thing that makes a good Japanese picture in this country is that it is very hard to get the suitable costumes and sceneries.'

"She was asked which she liked better, the Japanese way of acting or the American way of acting. 'I think the American way is better, because it is so natural. The old acting of Japan is so formal, though there are many things that are beautiful and good. And tragic drama of Japan is pretty good. But in the modern, common, everyday life play, this country is much advanced. But I like the American dress. They are not so comfortable as the Japanese ones, but they are beautiful and they are not so hard to wear like the Japanese dresses. The American women do not know how hard it is to dress in the Japanese dresses and that it takes years and years of practice to walk naturally and gracefully in those Japanese kimonos. But the American dresses are so easy to put on and walk in. But when at home I think the Japanese dress is better, because they are so comfortable and don't hurt me so much as the American clothes.'"

SYNOPSIS, The Moving Picture World, September 7, 1912:

"One of the prettiest legends of old Japan concerns the birth of the Lotus Blossom. It tells how, many years ago, a brave warrior fell under the displeasure of the Mikado, and a troop of soldiers were sent to capture him. He fought them off, single-handed, and made his escape, although badly wounded. Realizing that his end was near, he painfully made his way to the Shrine of Hachiman, the God of War, to die there. Upon his arrival the temple was deserted, except for one of the priestesses, who bound up his wounds, and hid him when the soldiers appeared. Then the warrior and the priestess departed. The God of War was naturally the patron saint of soldiers, and in this time of peril he aided them. Knowing that the absence of the priestess would be noted, and a search that would be fatal to the fugitive, Hachiman descended from his shrine and took the place of the priestess at the altar. The brave soldier reached a place of safety, but soon expired of his wounds. The broken-hearted priestess returned to her temple in fear and trembling, to pay homage to the god. When she reached the door and looked inside, she was stricken with awe, for she saw herself, in the garb of a priestess, kneeling at the altar.

"The god, for the god it was, smiled upon her, and beckoned her to enter. Reverently she did so. As she walked forward, the god retreated and entered the shrine. Then the girl fell fainting on the steps. The priest and a number of worshippers entered in time to see a miracle. On the altar's steps, fainting, was lying the beloved priestess. The image of the God of War was alive. It stretched forward its hands and slowly turned back into stone. As it did so, the body of the priestess disappeared and a lotus blossom appeared in the place where she had been. For the god, knowing that life would be a misery to her without her soldier lover, had taken her to join him in the land where there is no sorrow."

REVIEW, The Morning Telegraph, September 15, 1912:

"Japanese players have been seen upon the screen, but never before in this country when working especially for an American producer. This is the first of a series of Japanese plays which are to be offered by the Thanhouser Company, and if others come up to the standard of this offering they will assuredly be welcomed. The stock company of Japanese players is headed by Miss Taku Takagi and each one of them shows dramatic ability. The play is one of the artistic delights of the week and will be recalled with pleasant memories. Briefly, this is the poetic legend unfolded in this photodrama: A warrior is pursued by his enemies, who overtake him and severely wound him, though he manages to drive them off and keep them at bay until he arrives at a sacred temple, where he is befriended by a priestess who straightway falls in love with him and hides him from his enemies. She gives up her robes and insignia of office and leaves the sacred idol she had watched over, that she might follow the fortunes of her lover. Throughout the night she watches and prays for him, while the idol comes to life and takes the place of the priestess, praying for her soul and its salvation. The warrior dies, the priestess covers his body with her mantle, returns to the temple, the idol goes back to its pedestal, the priestess puts on her robes, and when the soldiers return they find her before the idol in solemn prayer. Then she disappears, and the lotus blossom appears in her stead as a sacred emblem of her purity and faith. And thus, to his day, is the legend handed down to all Japanese of how the lotus blossom came to be born. No picture maker could excel the Thanhouser production of this delightful offering. It is artistic in every sense. Its stage direction is remarkably fine and as an omen of what may follow it assuredly speaks well for the future."

REVIEW, The Moving Picture World, September 21, 1912:

"A very pretty and poetic myth picture of Japan. It was made in America, but was very carefully conducted throughout, and a few Japanese players have given to it a very interesting and markedly exotic atmosphere. To all eyes the costuming seems perfect and the sets and background in keeping, indeed, it is astonishing in this respect and its producer should be highly commended. The story will interest; it runs smoothly and is clear while at times it is tensely dramatic. The photoplay adds much to its charm. As entertainment, we place it a good way above the average picture."

REVIEW, The New York Dramatic Mirror, September 11, 1912:

"Here is a delightful Japanese fantasy which, barring a few rather American backgrounds, is thoroughly suggestive of the land it represents. It is also conceived with much delicacy and artistic conception in its care for details and presentation. The scene in the temple is particularly good, and the coming to life of the idol contrived with perfect illusion. Samurai, a warrior of old Japan, is informed with the approach of his enemies, who are planning to attack and kill him. He flees and kills a number who follow in pursuit. He evades them by sheltering in a cave, and from thence seeks refuge in the Temple of the War God. Here the priestess bathes his wounds and conceives a passion for him. She decides to forsake her post. All night in the wilderness she prays for the recovery of the warrior, while the idol, who has come to life that the priestess' absence might not be noted, prays for her soul. The warrior dies and the priestess returns to the temple. In the morning the people come to pray before the idol, and when their prayers were over, where the priestess' hand laid had sprung up the lotus flower. The performance is not without its symbolism."

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