manufactured and sold worldwide “along the lines of prevailing methods of big business, with the financial reins held tighter and tighter by large‐scale capitalists” (Rotha 1936: 41). However, in Atsugi's translation, the term story‐film is not translated properly as monogatari eiga but as geki eiga (“fiction film” or more literally, “drama film”), and this terminological slippage caused a deal of confusion and misplaced criticism among Japanese readers (Sekino 1940). Perhaps the most telling is the logical inconsistency created in Rotha's main assertion: to the majority of the Japanese readers who had no access to the English original, he appeared to attack the harmful effects of geki eiga in general, while at the same time championing the unparalleled advantage of documentary film which he defines as “the creative dramatization of actuality” (genjitsutsu no sozōteki geki ka – notice the same Japanese word geki [drama] used here). To justify her rather sticky word choice, the translator Atsugi argued in 1940 that to her knowledge, Rotha himself did not ascribe any specific meaning to the term story‐film, and as if to confirm this, she continued, even the main commentators on Rotha like Tsumura made little of her translation even after he checked the English original (Atsugi 1940: 119). In reality, however, Tsumura – and many of his contemporaries, including Imamura – came to interpret Rotha by reading him in light of this artificially established distinction between fiction and documentary films, rather than by addressing how he tried to challenge that very distinction with what he called “dramatization.”
For this reason, Tsumura's counter‐argument often becomes misleading if not imprecise. For instance, he considers it shameful that Rotha ignores the “glorious” tradition of the German studio UFA's (Universum Film‐Aktien Gesellschaft) scientific films in his section on the “evolution of documentary,” even though it is a reasonable choice for Rotha in that he, along with Grierson, clearly differentiated their notion of documentary from such purely scientific or objective lecture films (Tsumura 1940: 122–123). Similarly, in dismissing Rotha's approving comments on G. W. Pabst's Comradeship (Kameradschaft, 1931) as a sign of the incongruity of his documentary theory, Tsumura goes on to argue that the finest examples of cinematic treatment of modern social problems are to be found not in the handful of films the British documentary film movement had produced so far but rather in recent Hollywood and French fiction films such as Heroes for Sale (1933, dir. William A. Wellman), La Bandera (1935, dir. Julien Duvivier), and La Grande Illusion (1937, dir. Jean Renoir) (Tsumura 1940: 119–120). As is clear with these examples, Tsumura persistently consigns documentary to the realm of nonfiction and thereby defends his beloved fiction films from its sweeping invasions. For him, the generic distinction between these two modes of filmmaking should be kept intact because they differ from each other not only in terms of how (form) but also of what (content) their filming processes demonstrate. Interestingly, Tsumura finds a way to prove his point in Rotha's definition of documentary as “the creative dramatization of actuality,” strategically interpreting it as assigning the two different domains of the world to each genre, namely, actuality to documentary and reality to fiction film.
This significant distinction between actuality and reality was not visible at all to most Japanese readers of Rotha's book, because in Japanese these two terms are usually translated into the same single word genjitsu (Atsugi followed this convention in her translation). However, Tsumura not only detected the distinction by reading the English original but went on to explain the substantial difference between these two domains by referring to their German equivalents, Wirklichkeit and Realität, respectively. According to Tsumura, actuality/Wirklichkeit emphasizes its immediate and external presence (genzon), a world characterized by force and motion, whereas reality/Realität designates an objective being (kyakkanteki sonzai) that will never be affected by anything but its essential determinants. In other words, the difference between actuality and reality can be understood by their opposing modalities, which Tsumura categorizes as “existence” (sonzai) and “truth/essence” (shinri) (Tsumura 1940: 144–145). And if Rotha's notion of documentary aims to offer a purportedly scientific analysis of the mechanism of actuality with its application of the dialectical method, he continues, fiction film has a no less important role in its exploration of the secrets of reality through what the Germans calls Dichter or Dichtung, or “the most important human intuitions and sensibilities that make art possible” (Tsumura 1940: 133). Moreover, Tsumura anticipates that the future direction of kiroku eiga – again, it should be stressed that Tsumura uses this term to indicate nonfictional film in general and not Rotha's particular use of the term documentary – must involve “the producer's effort to artistically express the purely humanistic emotions he receives from the actual world [genjitsu sekai] with his camera and editing skills” (Tsumura 1940: 149).
As Yuriko Furuhata rightly points out, Tsumura's philosophical interpretation of the difference between actuality/Wirklichkeit and reality/Realität might be somewhat too inventive, since Rotha himself seemed to pay no special attention to it in his own text and uses these two terms almost interchangeably (Furuhata 2013: 62–63). Yet it still deserves some consideration for the following reasons. First, reflecting his Romanticist background, Tsumura gives higher priority to reality than to actuality and privileges the human artist's intuitionist quest for truth. In regard to this, we should acknowledge that in his postwar writings Hanada criticized Tsumura precisely for the latter's underestimation of actuality as a secondary category by quoting Hegel's definitions that “actuality is the unity … of essence and existence, or of what is inner and what is outer” and “what is rational is actual and what is actual is rational” (Hanada 1977 [1954a]: 244).6 Hegel continued to argue that the idea, contrary to its common understanding, “is at once what is quite simply effective and actual as well” and sarcastically adds that only “practical men,” or those “who are devoid of thoughts,” treat actuality as mere “synonymous with external, sensible existence” (Hegel 1991 [1830]: 213–214). As we will see later, Hanada, following Hegel's warning, developed his documentary theory around the question of how to approach the unknowability of reality by scrutinizing the contingent existence of actuality as such.
Second, the distinction between actuality and reality – or rather between the actual and the real – itself constituted a central focal point in Grierson's (and not Rotha's) theorization of documentary. Indeed, in one of the untitled lectures he gave sometime between 1927 and 1933, Grierson offered the following remarks that seemed to foreshadow Tsumura's argument:
When documentary people like myself talk about the superiority of the world outside the studios and tell you how much more genuine our world is than the other worlds, it is wise to remember the philosophic meaning of reality. In documentary we deal with the actual and in one sense with the real. But the really real, if I may use that phrase, is something deeper than that. The only reality which counts in the end is the interpretation which is profound … So when we come to documentary we come to the actual world … but I charge to remember that the task of reality before you is not one of reproduction but of interpretation.
(Grierson 1998: 76–77)
This statement clearly tells us that both Grierson and Tsumura were working within the same intellectual tradition, even as they differed in some respects. Where Tsumura gave a somewhat esoteric account of the filmmaker's intuitionistic revelation of the secrets of the human world through fiction films, Grierson presented his motto of the “creative treatment of actuality” as the first and foremost step to get closer to what he called “the really real.” Despite their opposing attitudes toward the concept of documentary, both Tsumura and Grierson had much in common in their idealist search for the hidden and universal truth of reality/Realität.
Nevertheless, at the time of his commentary on Rotha's text, Tsumura was completely unaware of this unexpected affinity with Grierson, and Rotha, at least in his chapters in Documentary Film, seemed to
