TAKARAZUKA, Japan -- The crowds start forming at the Takarazuka Theater in the early morning hours before any ticket seller arrives. Hundreds of women, mostly young, mostly in modest dress, sip iced tea, wipe away perspiration with embroidered handkerchiefs, and, within the confines of generations of etiquette training, they press toward the entryway.
By 2:30 p.m., when the doors swing open for the afternoon show, thousands have gathered, packing the heart of this small, centrally located town. Many carry bouquets in one hand, cameras in the other.
The object of their adulation: the "otoko-yaku," the stars of the Takarazuka Theater, often said to be the most beautiful, elegant and romantic men in Japan, famed for their ability to dance, sing and act.
All, in real life, are women.
Playing soldiers, kings or steamboat gamblers (with outfit complete down to a thin mustache), these beautiful androgynes form the core of the most successful performance troupe in Japan. The home stage in Takarazuka and a satellite in Tokyo collectively sell about 2 million tickets a year, approaching the attendance for sports teams that play in stadiums 20 times larger than any theater.
The Takarazuka productions, named after their place of origin, correspond most closely in the West to a Las Vegas-style review or Broadway musicals circa 1930. Each show is a multi-million dollar extravaganza with dozens of sets, hundreds of costumes and a blinding, uncountable number of lights.
Plots are loosely derived from Western stories such as "Romeo and Juliet," "For Whom the Bell Tolls" and "The Sound of Music." The required elements are pathos, drama and, of course, a role for a swashbuckling male in a good outfit, preferably one that can take sequins.
More than half of the Takarazuka productions end sadly. Otherwise, says Yoshio Araki, president of the parent Takarazuka Revue Company, it would all be too predictable and it would not ring true. But this is not a theater of despair. Often an extra scene is added, allowing the ill-fated Takarazuka hero and his heart-broken lover to ascend clouds of dry ice-generated vapor to heaven. There, they can enjoy after death the transcendence that a rigid, hierarchical society such as Japan's would never permit in life.
Every social critic, every encyclopedia, every person passing through Takarazuka has taken a crack at explaining why this form of theater is so extraordinarily popular with Japanese women. It has been likened to a passing adolescent infatuation (which may last a lifetime), a rebellion and a homosexual fantasy.
Fans tend to be less analytical.
"It is the dream world, and they are our angels," says Kano Kazumi, a 27-year-old fan in a black silk jacket inscribed with her favorite otoko-yaku's name, as she began a two-day wait outside the Tokyo theater recently for a production of "Casanova."
"The manhood they show is beautiful, not rough," says Sayaka Yamazaki, a 22-year-old student. Can't be explained
Others can only say what they feel, not why. "Once you like [an otoko-yaku], you want to see her all the time," says Miyoko Masuhara, who spends her weekends and her money on long overnight bus trips to and from Takarazuka performances.
The appeal of Takarazuka is as limited as it is intense. Though it is considered prestigious to marry a Takarazuka star, men almost never attend a show. Asked their opinion, they politely dismiss the phenomenon. Pushed, they become more emphatic. never even thought of going. It makes me sick," says Yusuke Minoura, a 30-year-old dentist. Actually, Japanese men have been doing effectively the same things for hundreds of years, watching men play the role of women in traditional Kabuki theater. The popularity of both Kabuki and Takarazuka has prompted some theater critics to suggest that only a member of one sex can ever really understand the appeal of the other, and therefore dramatize it. In contrast to the complex feelings that may underlie Takarazuka's appeal, the rationale for its founding was reasonably straightforward. Eighty years ago a railroad baron had seats to fill on a line to an ailing spa town, and he thought the answer was "Pure Righteous Beautiful" entertainment for women of upper-class families, provided by women of upper-class families.
A small theater was established, and shortly thereafter, a school to train pure righteous beautiful performers. The school remains one of the most sought after in the country. About 2,000 teen-agers applied for 40 spots in the most recent class. There are no requirements, says the company's president, Mr. Araki. But, as is often the case, there are implicit standards.
Who can't apply
"Is there anyone short?"
"No."
"Fat?"
"No."
"Unattractive?"
"No. They are all beautiful."
"Could a man attend?"
"We've thought about it, but it never happened."
Even ties have limits. Mr. Araki's child went to a performance-training high school, but did not go on to audition for Takarazuka.
Tough standards continue throughout a woman's tenure with the troupe, a period that is typically three to five years but may be longer for a star. Takarazuka cast members are recognized throughout Japan and, to a significant degree, must remain in character. None of the 340 in the company has ever been married, though once again, management says, there are no rules.
Pressure is most severe on the women who play men. They are selected early on because of their height, voice and perceptions of character traits. To be chosen is a great honor and the otoko-yaku are expected to maintain an image. They may appear in advertisements but they mustn't expose any skin beyond their face and hands.
It is said to be inappropriate for the otoko-yaku to do culturally feminine things, so none carries a bag near the theater, nor does any do housework.
One otoko-yaku known as Fubuki Takane recently finished playing a --ing Rhett Butler in "Gone with the Wind." Her cast photo, complete with mustache, is sold out. Now, she is preparing to recross genders for one of the very few times in 12 years.
"I find a female role more difficult," she says. "I might be more male in personal character. I associate more with male lines."
'Such an ideal'
As for men themselves, she says they have been a source of continual study rather than a focus for affection or a relationship. Marriage?
L "I don't want to. I can't compromise. I have such an ideal."
The closest candidate, she says seriously, was the comic-book character Superman, as seen in a movie. Followers of Takarazuka would not be surprised. It has always been linked to what the Japanese refer to as manga, with famous Japanese illustrators capturing cast features in cartoon characters that subsequently show up in American comics and animated movies.
Ms. Takane's appearance fits the serial strip mold: elfin features with delicate bones, and short hair, swept over large eyes. Like a comic character, she has a secret identity. All Takarazuka cast members are referred to only by stage names. Her age, weight and other personal details are similarly hidden.
And, like a comic book character, she is, after a brief appearance, gone. Interviews are rare and limited and schedules are tight. If Ms. Takane is not performing, she is invariably at work at a new identity for a coming show.
And that is the way fans like it. Far from wanting to probe too deeply, Takarazuka fans are open about its role as a refuge in a congested, gossipy country where most people's lives are too well known.
Miyuki Nakagawa, age (in the Takarazuka tradition) unrevealed, is an Osaka travel agent who gets away herself by attending Takarazuka performances. For two decades, she has attended 60 a year, arriving early to buy a cheap, $20 standing room seat, and staying late to bid stars good-bye. During a recent performance she was asked if after all this time living with the theater she had ever really gotten to know a star. She recoiled.
A5 "It's better," she said, "to see them from afar."