flimism

Perhaps my favourite Kurosawa film, and in the past quite an overlooked film, Ikiru (meaning "To Live") is a powerful story of a man and his search for meaning in life. Toshiro Mifune takes a backseat for Takashi Shimura this time round who stars as an elderly bureaucrat suddenly diagnosed with stomach cancer. After looking back on his life, seeking alternatives and arriving at the end of his life empty handed, he decides to dedicate the remainder of his life to the building of a park where once a disease ridden waterhole stood. Quite a simple story, but the film stands out as being so beautiful, so touching and so engaging, that it elevates itself above a simple story of an old man and his life.

Takashi Shimura is absolutely fantastic in the lead role, and he represents each stage of this mans denial and eventual acceptance so well that even the performance itself is enough to appreciate the film and its message. Little dialogue is used, and much of the performance relies of body language and facial expressions to get the message across, and although his face is quite animated, it is never comical (unless intended to be), and never topples into melodrama. It is absolutely stuning to watch this man's journey, and the determination and willpower he shows against all odds.


The cinematography is breathtaking, especially the final scene of the man sitting alone on the swing set in the snow, singing a song of pain and regret, knowing he has accomplished what he set out to do, and give himself the meaning he was searching for. The camera is so precise and so pre-meditated that oftentimes you don't even notice the suggestive techniques and artistry behind the shots.

Kurosawa liked to be critical of society and its values, and this is no different, particularly focusing its attention on the idea of bureaucracy and its lack of results. The initial montage of the women being led around the building, bouncing from department to department is indicative of this, and also Takashi's characters feeling of lack of fulfillment from a life of order and structure; lack of freedom. Although I find the end scene with the funeral and officials a tad drawn out and boring, it frankly hammers this point home, that government structure is crippling, and minus the mushy Disney feelings, we all need to follow our heart and do what's right.

Ikiru is such a beautiful affirmation of life and the power of the human spirit that it hurts. The film is shot so wonderfully with what appears to be minimal effort, and is a testament to the directorial and story telling power of Akira Kurosawa. See it.

And thus we arrive at the breakthrough. Rashomon. This was actually the first Kurosawa film I saw, and the one that got me interested in doing a full retrospective of the directors worth. Epic in stature, coming off the back of the fantastic "Stray Dog", Rashomon is a force to be reckoned with. A true masterpiece of cinema, and an influence on countless directors working today. With its meticulously arranged camera movements and cinematography it is already amazing, but the presentation of the material, the acting, the incredible locations, intense action sequences, stunning score, one could go on forever. Its Rashomon, and it fucking rules.

Once again, Kurosawa picks a very basic story, and applies an inspired structure, but the way in which he weaves the story is what gives it life. The film takes place in ancient Japan, where while travelling through a forest, a woman is raped and her husband (a samurai) attacked midway. Four witnesses are brought before a court to tell their account of what happened, and as each tells their story, something new is revealed. Who is telling the truth, if any of them?


The idea of truth, who is telling it, and what exactly truth is, is the fundamental basis of Rashomon. As the story unfolds we find that events are not exactly as recalled earlier, small details are distorted or forgotten, and we see how one result can yield a number of events that lead up to it. Once one character tells their account, it is completely reconsidered by the audience once the other witness proceeds to open their mouth. The camera completely changes is character and identity, shifting the audiences pre-conceptions, which continues throughout the entire film. By the end of the film, the audience is left questioning the idea of truth as a concept, what it is, its relevance and through the priest's actions we question our faith in the honesty of humanity. The film in that regard is quite bleak, until Kurosawa reinstates humanities selflessness with the introduction of a baby, and the events that follow upon its discovery, at the films conclusion.

Rashomon is epic. In its influence, in its visual style, in its philosophies and its exploration of themes relevant to humanity. Kurosawa handles the balance between entertainment and art fantastically, and I think its one of his greatest qualities. he doesn't bludgeon the audience with neither complex philosophical ideas, nor mindless action sequences. He handles both in modesty, and Rashomon is evidence of this. Those god damn forest shots, could make a man weep.

From my experience at this point, Stray Dog is Akira Kurosawas first true realised masterpiece. Where "Drunken Angel" was a fantastic tour de force of creativity, it is still quite flawed in parts, (most of which are overlooked due to the stand out features), Stray Dog is the first Kurosawa film where all the elements that make Kurosawa a brilliant director come together and gel.

Based heavily on the film noir genre and older detective/crime novels, Stray Dog tells the story of a rookie policeman who has his gun stolen from him while on a bus after shooting practice. Ashamed and disorientated, the policeman puts all of his efforts into finding his stolen gun, by any means necessary. After a series of encounters and clues he finds that the very gun that was stolen from him has been used to commit a robbery, in which a person was shot and injured. Humiliated and desperate, the rookie offers his resignation, only to be put onto the case by his chief with an experienced detective. After another crime is commited, and the detectives close in on the perpetraitor, the experienced detective is shot in the line of duty, and a final duel between the rookie and the murderer takes place in the end.


For a film of this genre, the plot is quite simple really. Extremely sharp blacks and whites, moody lighting and stunning cinematography all aid in the beautiful presentation of the film, and its ambience and mood suck you in from the get go. Great performances, and brilliant locations all make the film a technical achievement, which would continue throughout Kurosawa's career, but were solidified here (after being explored in "Drunken Angel").

What makes the film stand out above those that come before it, is the way in which Kurosawa weaves moral stories, visual poetry and social commentary into what would otherwise be a fairly standard film noir. The film constantly makes comment on Japanese culture after the war, with Mifune's rookie cop having parallels with the man they are trying to track. It hints at the idea that men are made from their decisions, and we are all connected and seperated by these decisions. The beautiful final shot of the two men lying on the ground is not only soaked in regret and compassion, but allows this idea of coincidence and chance to be flushed out with not a single word spoken; truly masterful. Kurosawa would go on to continue this tradition, each time in more challenging and interesting ways, but nothing is more interesting than seeing this structure and idea be born and executed in such a poetic and beautiful manner.

Silly internet not being avaliable does not mean I stop watching films, in any case it means I watch more, and although I didn't watch this immediately after "Scandal", it is only fitting that I review it before the others. That being said, compared to my earlier reviews (which chronologically came after Drunken Angel), I thoroughly enjoyed Drunken Angel much more, which makes little sense. Drunken Angel was the first film Kurosawa made outside that Japanese cinema system at the time, and when watching you can tell, it is a very personal film. He himself stated that it was the most personal film he had made up until then, and this is probably due to the freedom he had obtained.

Drunken Angel takes place in post-war Japan, where an alcoholic doctor diagnoses one of the local Yakuza leaders with tuberculosis. Unwilling to admit his contraction of this disease, the gang leader takes his anger out on the doctor, who himself is struggling to decide whether he should in fact help this man, or leave him to rot, constantly swaying back and forth on his opinion. When a former gang leader is released from prison, the now diagonised man finds it hard to give up his position, and the film basically centres around his struggle to let go, both in the gang and admittance of his condition. As he slowly deteriorates, the doctor helps him try to recover, until a final fight with the recently released gang leader ends in tears.


The film itself is shot beautifully, allowing the visuals to convey emotion, poetry and tension. When comparing it to the films that came after it, Drunken Angel is far superior in regards to visual style and emotional impact. The final fight scene is so moving, tense and beautiful, its hard to believe it is coming from an amatuer (by Kurosawa's standards anyway). The acting is fantastic, in a traditional Japanses sense, with melodrama being utilised extremelly well. Toshiro Mifune makes his first appearance in a Kurosawa film as the TB infected gang member, which began one of the greatest partnerships in cinema history. Regular Takashi Shimura is also fantastic as the drunken doctor, his subtlties are fantastic. I must also mention the music. The lone guitar playing, the dank swamp, a quiet Japanese night. The symbolism is astounding.

Overall, I enjoyed the film much more that both "Scandal" and "The Quiet Duel" and I think the reason is because of the energy the film contains. You can tell Kurosawa really wanted to make this film, and he poured his heart and soul into it. All of that creative restriction from the Japanese cinema system only fuelled this films creativity and ideas, which attack like a bull at a gate. Fuck, I want to watch it again already.

So I skip past "Stray Dog" and arrive at Scandal, a court room drama of sorts made just before the epic "Rashomon". Scandal was a bit of a strange one, and perhaps due to other circumstances, and perhaps not, I unfortunately found myself tired and bored for a good duration of it. Not to say that there was less appreciation involved, just to say that perhaps I wasn't in the mood. However, I will try to analyse as best I can.

Scandal is the story of a famous painter and a famous singer who just happen to meet each other while on different destinations in the mountains one evening. The painter offers the singer a lift into town where they stay at the same hotel, albeit in different rooms. While briefly visiting the singers room after bathing, the two are caught photographed together by photographer working for the equivalent of a trashy magazine nowadays. The editor of the magazine decides to run a false story of the two being lovers, very confident in the fact that he won't get in trouble for it. The painter decides to sue and hires an attorney at law who isn't quite all there, and decides to double cross the painter, not in a vindictive way, but as a means of protecting himself.

Perhaps it is the fact that the situation is treated in such an overly dramatic way, that suggests an ideology held by past generations that doesn't allow me to connect with the story. The court room scenes were quite overdone and the passion and motives of the characters seemed outdated by todays standards. Usually I watch a film in context, and understand that a film made in a different era makes for different ideas and reactions, but this I couldn't grasp, which kind of inhibited my enjoyment of the film.


Technically however, it seems that Kurosawa is using image to dictate thoughts, feelings and internal struggles of character, but not realising i to its full potential. A lot of the film and plot still rely heavily on dialogue, and a lot of potential interpretation is drowned in the process. However, you can see the glimpses of it coming through (which would be fully realised in the genius "Rashomon"), but in Scandal, a fair bit of it is not fully realised. The cinematography is a huge improvement over "The Quiet Duel". Not very flashy, but set design is much more detailed, and framing plays a larger role in the shot setup allowing for a much more interesting and vibrant image. Still not on par with his later works however. The acting is the best strength of this film, with the perfomances by all on board being quite true and restrained.

Although it is not a favourite film of mine, I can respect it and wouldn't hesitate recomending it to someone looking to get into Kurosawa's works. It is a good film, but nothing compared to what is to come.

Ahhh Alan Ball. I will always worship the ground that you walk upon for writing American Beauty and creating Six Feet Under. It doesn't matter that a lot of what made American beauty great was the directing, cinematography and the acting, and it doesn't matter that you had a whole team of writers and creative minds to help on Six Feet Under, I will always love you. Which is why I went all the way to Carlton (its a labour of love) to see your new film "Towelhead", and I gotta say Alan, I'm a tad disappointed. But thats OK; because like I said, I will always love you. I blame it on the book! Not really. I blame it on a number of things. Lets do this.

So, Towelhead is the story of a sexual awakening of a young American/Lebenese girl in Texas in 1991 or so. Saddam is running a muck, and young Jisira is learning about the birds and the bees. Her father is basically a soft-hearted tyrant, played wonderfully by Six Feet Unders Peter Macdissi, forbidding her to be friends with a young black boy and disallowing make up to be worn. In her time alone, she discovers her body and what it is capable of, with a little help from her 40-year old "happily married" neighbour. Under the careful watch of her other neighbour (Toni Collette), Jisira learns that sexuality is a tricky little nut to crack.

The subject matter is sure to offend some, but it succeeds in its truthfulness and its honesty, treating subject matter carefully as to not expolit the situations. For the most part. See, the problem is that most of the film is just far too unbelievable. For the entire first part of the film, the dialogue is so contrived and so extreme, that it is extremelly hard to immerse yourself in this world, as you constantly critisise characters motives. You see, I'm not usually one that cries for character development and linear narratives, but when you have characters with such strong ideas, opinions and convictions, you kind of need to build the groundwork first, otherwise you just end up constantly questioning the validity of their decisions.



So for the first entire half of the film, you just don't care. I kind of wanted the film to be OVER. Which was a devastating feeling. Why did Toni Collette's character give a shit? Why was Aaron Eckhart so hot for 13 year old action? It just didn't make sense. That is until the second half of the film. Once the dust settles, the tension is quite high, and the drama becomes very real and honest like I mentioned earlier. Suddenly the characters annoying cliches and mishaps disappear and you begin to care about them and their situations. There is still an element of the ridiculous in certain parts, but you brush over them as you become involved.

This just isn't enough to justify the film being a success however. You are basically scarred by the first half far too badly enough for the film to ever fully redeem itself. Sure the cinematography is really pretty, but we have seen it all before in Six Feet Under. Sure the acting is fantastic, but whats a good actor when he has poor lines and character development. In my opinion, it probably owuld have worked better as a mini-series or a television show, as it seems like Alan Ball had the ideas, but not the time to properly flush them out without having to cut corners. Oh well, you win some you lose some.

My Akira Kurosawa Retrospective begins here unfortunately, as Bigpond movies didn't send me "Drunken Angel"; which is technically the first film chronologically of the ones that I picked. I chose to ignore the Sanshiro Sugata films as they were very early, and didn't rate very well on IMDB. But nonetheless, I begin with "The Quiet Duel" a 1949 film about a doctor/surgeon working in wartime who contracts syphilis from one of his patients while operating on him by cutting his finger on a scalpel. It was quite amusing watching the drama that unfolds from someone having syphilis, as if it was such a dishonour, but other than that, probably not the coolest disease to have. The surgeon is forced to cease his marriage to his wife, and cut himself off from all physical contact with other human beings. This no doubt causes an internal conflict; do I completely give in to my desires and basically get as much poon as I want and potentially ruin others lives, or do I act all noble and excersise monk-like restraint. Through the eyes of the man who gave him syphilis, he sees what it is like to be careless, and watches the mans baby die as a result of his wife' now contracted disease. Not very light stuff. Makes for some good drama though.

Not having seen many of Kurosawa's films (hence this dive into his material), I only have a very limited knowledge of his work. However, after viewing the film I came to the conclusion that it pales in comparison to what was yet to come. It seems as though he is still honning his craft, and refining his skills.


The cinematography was nothing when compared to other films I have seen of his, the lighting was poor (except for the strangely wondefully lit opening operation sequence) and the framing was quite amateurish. Nothing really jumped off the screen, visuals wise, and many scenes, although being dialogue-driven, felt flat and dull. There were glimpses of greatness, but not much.

Performances were solid, albeit melodramatic, ("Oh my God, do I fuck like a rabbit or suck it up like a man" *tears*) but the situation and the drama resulting from it was quite intriguing. The film dragged in places, with dialogue running on much longer than it should, but the deal was sealed in the final scene when Nakada (original syphilis man) comes in after his wife has just delivered their dead child, drunk, and screaming. Quite a gripping finale, which I guess is what the film was building towards with all that silly talking... All in all however, the film was a nice start to my retrospective, and quite an entertaining 98 minutes. Sure it had its flaws, but its nice to see where genius comes into fruition, which I guess is the whole point of this exercise.