关于他人之颜
奥山在一次事故被毁容，因为整个面部被严重烧伤，每天带着绑带过着压抑的生活，妻子虽然嘴上不说却变得十分冷漠，这一切让他很沮丧，当他得知有家神经外科医院可以为他以面皮覆盖方式做一张假脸时，他决定尝试一下以挽回他和妻子的关系，可他换上新脸之后却发现一切不在受他个人意愿的控制，他逐渐迷失在自己的假脸背后，为了证明自己的人生观，他甚至戴着假面去勾引他的太太，他在获得成功之后对生命意义产生了怀疑，他再也无法回到自己的世界里，一切都向着最初目标的相反方向滑去，那个为他提供服务的医生最终也卷进无法设控的局面里，成为这场医学实验的牺牲品。
这部同样改编自安部公房的小说的电影更像是日本存在主义理论的影像表达，40年来同题材的电影也一度讨论易容术之后的伦理和自我认同的问题。所以，这部探索人的认知的电影具有极大的现实意义，电影里的换脸术的难题已经被当代科技征服，可“我是谁”的难题至今还是一个问题！ 而易容最大的问题是带上面具的自己是否会以道德约束自己。本片谈的是面具和自我的关系，这是导演最具有存在主义思想的一部影片，他所揭示的自我认同不仅是易容之后的奥山关心的，也是延伸性的问题：现代社会人们对于自我角色的认定。活在人见世界里的人有多少是本相，所有被掩盖的被称为面具的东西或许正是人多重性的一部分，这部电影里有许多对话和自言自语都在讨论人的多重性格和面具人生的问题，电影的泛哲学化似乎是年轻导演都有过的经历，这样却使得影片的观赏性减弱了。影片最后的超现实画面表达了导演对于当代人际关系的忧虑，人人隐藏在面具背后，这让奥山感到绝望，在万念俱灰下他开始走向社会的对立面，这部电影的立意是存在主义的基本论点“他人是地狱”，一个人肉体的损害可以靠现代医学弥合，可是，心灵的创口却很难愈合。
导演一再重复的是脸对于生命角色认同的重要性，当脸被改变后原有的价值体系也被改变，人性在面具后面变得肆无忌惮，导演设计了一个类似庄周试妻的场景，戴上面具的奥山试着勾引自己的太太，不料一次就成功了，那个在桌子底下脚探寻对方的镜头点到为止非常有张力，它标志着情感的脆弱，在生命的隐蔽之处欲望升腾！
有意思的是中国人所熟知的横路敬二在片中饰演了一个精神病人，他对于这类角色真可谓是游刃有余，而这个精神病院场景的设置却是和日本人无法遗忘的战争记忆相联系的，从这点上的我们可以看到真正优秀的导演他的姿态永远是以点带面的，这种对于人性普遍性的思考和整个60年代的现代主义电影分不开的。同时，影片对于现世也有着预言性，它让我们思索人性的真实可能性！本片的音乐还是武满彻作曲的，充满着忧伤和空灵，本片是1966年《电影旬报》十佳奖第五名
深入阅读：
An off-camera psychiatrist (Mikijiro Hira) overseeing a processed batch of prosthetic appendages describes his fragile role of diplomatically treating - not a patient's physical imperfection - but rather, the psychological insecurity that underlies his seemingly superficial malady. The curious, fragmented shot of randomly floating, artificial body parts is subsequently reflected in an X-ray profile of a smug and embittered burn victim named Okuyama (Tatsuya Nakadai) as he recounts to the quietly receptive psychiatrist his own culpability in the fateful industrial accident that had permanently disfigured him and now estranges him from his co-workers and family. The clinically disembodied images are then commuted into the equally cold and sterile Okuyama household through a dissociating, close-up shot of a human eye that zooms out to reveal his beautiful and mannered wife (Machiko Kyô) busily occupied in her hobby of polishing gemstones as the acerbic and insecure Okuyama attempts to test her affection and fidelity with vague and allusive casual remarks and open-ended questions. Spurned by his wife after a spontaneous and awkward attempt at intimacy, Okuyama returns to his psychiatrist and agrees to participate in the testing of the doctor's latest experiment: a prosthetic mask molded from the facial characteristics of a surrogate donor. Now liberated by a sense of faceless anonymity and relieved of personal and professional entanglements, Okuyama takes up residence at a modest boarding house and begins to test the limits of his traceless identity.
Marking Hiroshi Teshigahara's third adaptation of novels by modernist author Kobo Abe, The Face of Another is a highly stylized, psychologically dense, and provocative exposition on identity, persona, freedom, and intimacy. From the opening sequences of isolated anatomy, Teshigahara establishes the fractured tone of the film's narrative. Surreal, aesthetically formalized shots of the oppressive prosthetic laboratory underscore the atemporal and geographically indeterminate nature of the universal parable. (Note the disjunctive effect of freeze-frames, muted ambient sounds, and cultural polyphony of the doctor and patient meetings at a German pub-themed bar that further contribute to a sense of existential ambiguity and pluralism). The intercutting parallel, elliptical narrative of a facially scarred young woman (Miki Irie) - whose character introduction is intriguingly accomplished through a wipe-cut (and therefore, may only exist as a figment of Okuyama's imagination) - creates, not only a pervasive sense of alienation, but also betrays the unsympathetic protagonist's internal chaos and capacity for emotional violence. Combining striking, elegantly composed visuals with innately humanist themes of connection and identity, Teshigahara composes a haunting, cautionary fairytale of masquerade and revelation, defect and vanity, impersonation and self-discovery.
