5/5
Rashomon was the first Kurosawa movie I'd ever seen, and it blew me away. The movie is based on a short story called "In a Grove," which describes an incident that takes place in the woods. The incident involves the death of a samurai (Mori) and the rape of his wife (Kyo) after an encounter with the bandit Tajomaru (Mifune). But the exact details of what transpired there we may never know. The movie proper begins at Rashomon Gate in a torrential downpour. We see a priest (Chiaki) and woodcutter (Shimura), who both witnessed the court hearings and walked away baffled. After hearing each individual's conflicting account of the incident, each more self-incriminating than the last, the priest is on the verge of losing his faith in mankind.
The movie I remember is better than the movie I saw. The movie I analyzed is better than the movie I saw. That is not to disparage Rashomon at all, as it is a great film that has stood the test of time, but rather a mark on its characteristics. It is more art than entertainment, more stimulating to discuss than enjoyable to see. Whereas I could rewatch No Country for Old Men 100 times for the sheer fun of it, Rashomon more appropriately aims to contribute through its complex thematic possibilities. It is a movie that discusses insight and ideas first and foremost and then tries to tack on the human element afterward. The acting serves to advance the plot, and fails at realism or empathy. Unlike The Rules of the Game, the dialogue contains hardly any quotable gems. But there is something inimitable and profound about this movie that I cannot shake, something that sparked a fire in me and inspired me to search out art house cinema. Rashomon turned me on to Kurosawa, and to the moving pictures as works of art, and for that I will always be indebted to this film.
IMDb link: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0042876/
Showing posts with label minoru chiaki. Show all posts
Showing posts with label minoru chiaki. Show all posts
April 23, 2012
July 31, 2009
Ikiru (1952)
5/5
Akira Kurosawa's Ikiru, which means "to live," is a tender portrait of an aging bureaucrat (Shimura) who's wasted 30 years of his life, discovers he has cancer, and fights to reclaim meaning and relevance before he dies. Through the eyes of his coworkers and family, we see a man who has lost his excitement for life attempt to find it again--in alcohol, strip clubs, and young women--but cannot. Instead his search leads him ultimately to redemption through his job in the government, where he makes up his mind to get a park built for a local community. His achievement doesn't improve the government's inefficiency, his death doesn't change most of his coworkers' opinions of him, but for a select few, he has made a world of difference.
The structure of the film is unique, because the last hour or so takes place after his death. And this is where the film is truly elevated out of the melodramatic sentimentality modern-day Hollywood would have turned it into. At his wake we finally get to see what people really think of him, without his feelings and the possibility of hurting them to get in the way. We are frustrated at everyone who doesn't understand what he was doing, we are infuriated at them for trying to cheat him out of his accomplishment, and we want to yell at the screen: "THIS IS A GOOD MAN WHO DIED! RESPECT HIM!" But Kurosawa's brilliant directing controls it all. Our final image of the man is one of serenity, a smile on his face as he swings back and forth in the park he managed to build for people who needed it. He doesn't care about the credit; he just knows he did a good deed and can die peacefully.
The entire story is told in evocative shot compositions and Shimura's expressive face. We see a paper on improving government efficiency that he wrote 20 years prior, and we see him tear off its cover page to use as a tissue before throwing it away. Does he even remember writing that? In the waiting room at the doctor's office, he listens as a man describes the symptoms of stomach cancer and callously correlates them to life expectancy. His horror mangles his face. When he comes home to tell his son he's going to die, he overhears him greedily talking about his pension and loses the heart to tell him. Through a few quick flashbacks we see a father full of joy, pride, shame, and guilt, but unable to change how his son looks at him.
Ikiru is a slow-paced and often silent film, which demands patience of its audience for the 2 hour and 20 minute runtime. And it is a sad story for most of its length--but it ends with one of the most poignant, uplifting finales I have ever seen. Could it have stood to be edited a bit tighter? Yes. Could some short vignettes have been cut? Of course. But the picture overcomes its minor drawbacks and envelops you; it enriches your life. And after you see this movie, you might be one of the coworkers who doesn't much change, but you also might be the one who sees the whole world with new eyes.
IMDb link: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0044741/
Akira Kurosawa's Ikiru, which means "to live," is a tender portrait of an aging bureaucrat (Shimura) who's wasted 30 years of his life, discovers he has cancer, and fights to reclaim meaning and relevance before he dies. Through the eyes of his coworkers and family, we see a man who has lost his excitement for life attempt to find it again--in alcohol, strip clubs, and young women--but cannot. Instead his search leads him ultimately to redemption through his job in the government, where he makes up his mind to get a park built for a local community. His achievement doesn't improve the government's inefficiency, his death doesn't change most of his coworkers' opinions of him, but for a select few, he has made a world of difference.The structure of the film is unique, because the last hour or so takes place after his death. And this is where the film is truly elevated out of the melodramatic sentimentality modern-day Hollywood would have turned it into. At his wake we finally get to see what people really think of him, without his feelings and the possibility of hurting them to get in the way. We are frustrated at everyone who doesn't understand what he was doing, we are infuriated at them for trying to cheat him out of his accomplishment, and we want to yell at the screen: "THIS IS A GOOD MAN WHO DIED! RESPECT HIM!" But Kurosawa's brilliant directing controls it all. Our final image of the man is one of serenity, a smile on his face as he swings back and forth in the park he managed to build for people who needed it. He doesn't care about the credit; he just knows he did a good deed and can die peacefully.
The entire story is told in evocative shot compositions and Shimura's expressive face. We see a paper on improving government efficiency that he wrote 20 years prior, and we see him tear off its cover page to use as a tissue before throwing it away. Does he even remember writing that? In the waiting room at the doctor's office, he listens as a man describes the symptoms of stomach cancer and callously correlates them to life expectancy. His horror mangles his face. When he comes home to tell his son he's going to die, he overhears him greedily talking about his pension and loses the heart to tell him. Through a few quick flashbacks we see a father full of joy, pride, shame, and guilt, but unable to change how his son looks at him.
Ikiru is a slow-paced and often silent film, which demands patience of its audience for the 2 hour and 20 minute runtime. And it is a sad story for most of its length--but it ends with one of the most poignant, uplifting finales I have ever seen. Could it have stood to be edited a bit tighter? Yes. Could some short vignettes have been cut? Of course. But the picture overcomes its minor drawbacks and envelops you; it enriches your life. And after you see this movie, you might be one of the coworkers who doesn't much change, but you also might be the one who sees the whole world with new eyes.
IMDb link: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0044741/
July 18, 2009
I Live In Fear (1955)
4.9/5
Akira Kurosawa's I Live In Fear takes a simple premise and makes it powerful, unique, and memorable. Toshiro Mifune stars as an aging foundry owner in post-war Japan who fears that his and his family's life are in danger from a nuclear holocaust. He becomes so frightened that he tries to force his family to move with him to Brazil, where he thinks they will be safe. They take him to family court, where Takashi Shimura plays a mediator, to petition his fiscal activities on the grounds of mental incompetence. But who's really crazy, who's being helped, and who's being hurt? The thematics are rich, involved, and compelling. It explores the seemingly basic topic so fully and thoroughly that you are surprised at the amount of depth it contains.
Technically, the movie lives up to the Kurosawa name. He uses fluid camera movement and pristine blocking to give us amazing visual compositions. The editing smartly cuts out useless, empty shots yet also lets scenes sit patiently when called for. The acting by Mifune is simply outstanding--simply unparalleled. Despite the monstrous "old person" makeup he was wearing, he infused his character with empathy and warmth to make him completely and wholly believable. His performance is a marvel to behold. As with every Kurosawa movie, this one is more than just the sum of its parts. Every aspect of this movie combines to form something extraordinary. It rises way past its minor flaws to produce the singular masterpiece that it is.
IMDb link: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0048198/
Akira Kurosawa's I Live In Fear takes a simple premise and makes it powerful, unique, and memorable. Toshiro Mifune stars as an aging foundry owner in post-war Japan who fears that his and his family's life are in danger from a nuclear holocaust. He becomes so frightened that he tries to force his family to move with him to Brazil, where he thinks they will be safe. They take him to family court, where Takashi Shimura plays a mediator, to petition his fiscal activities on the grounds of mental incompetence. But who's really crazy, who's being helped, and who's being hurt? The thematics are rich, involved, and compelling. It explores the seemingly basic topic so fully and thoroughly that you are surprised at the amount of depth it contains.Technically, the movie lives up to the Kurosawa name. He uses fluid camera movement and pristine blocking to give us amazing visual compositions. The editing smartly cuts out useless, empty shots yet also lets scenes sit patiently when called for. The acting by Mifune is simply outstanding--simply unparalleled. Despite the monstrous "old person" makeup he was wearing, he infused his character with empathy and warmth to make him completely and wholly believable. His performance is a marvel to behold. As with every Kurosawa movie, this one is more than just the sum of its parts. Every aspect of this movie combines to form something extraordinary. It rises way past its minor flaws to produce the singular masterpiece that it is.
IMDb link: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0048198/
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