Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Rashomon. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Rashomon. Sort by date Show all posts

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

1951 Winner, Rashomon



Rashomon

Director:        Akira Kurosawa

Distributed by:  Toho Studios

Released:  August 1950

Country:  Japan

What is Truth?
Is Truth unchanging law?
We both have truths.
Are mine the same as yours?
--Pontius Pilate, Jesus Christ Superstar

Moral relativism is a belief that there is no one truth, that each point of view has a truth is as true as another.  But when you think of it, no one can make a case for relativism with any certainty because to the arguer, it could be just as true that he is dead wrong.  Certainly, it is true, then, that there is one Truth.  It’s in our perceptions and biases, though, that we see and experience this one Truth, and therein lies the problem.  The Academy awarded Rashomon the Best Foreign Film Honorary Award in 1950 for telling a story that examines this concept.

The bandit hamming it up at the tribunal
This was the film that put famed Japanese director Akira Kurosawa on the map, and the iconic movie has become part of the culture, lending its name to the “Rashomon effect” concept of perceiving the truth through different lenses.  The story is extremely simple:  A samurai and his wife are traveling through the woods of 12th century Japan, she on horseback and he walking beside her.  A bandit, played by Kurosawa regular Toshiro Mifune, comes out of hiding and attacks them for their loot.  The bandit leaves the scene, having taken the samurai’s money and life, and having violated the wife.  He is eventually captured and has to tell what happened to a tribunal who will decide his fate.

Takashi Shimura as the Woodcutter
Here is where the multiple versions of the Truth are put forth.  The bandit and the woman, who is also found, give witness to what they experienced, and their stories are very different.  Oddly, a third version of what happened is given by the dead man through a medium, with all three versions contradicting each other as to who is truly at fault.  A seemingly objective opinion is later told to us by a woodcutter, played by another stock Kurosawa player, Takashi Shimura.  The woodcutter saw everything but never reported his completely different version to the tribunal.  His motive for not providing testimony just might show that his version isn’t quite as objective he would lead us to believe.

Beside the philosophical angle, there is a good reason this film is so well-regarded.  Firstly, Kurosawa is masterful in the way he presents the story.  The story is introduced at a building/gate called Rashomon during a severe downpour (Kurosawa likes rain!), with Shimura’s woodcutter discussing what happened with a Buddhist priest, played by still another Kurosawa regular, Minoru Chiaki.  Kurosawa uses the elements of the rain and sun to illustrate moral peril of the whole concept of there being multiple truths.  The way he paces the film is perfect, with the story told in parts, jumping back and forth from the hazy, muggy grove where the crimes took place to the torrential loudness of rain at the gate.

Machiko Kyō as the wife, testifying
Additionally, the acting performances are as good as it gets.  Mifune’s frequent overacting might be off-putting at first, until you realize that the reason for it is that his persona is being related by another’s perspective.  Shimura, who best shines in 1952’s Ikiru (a personal favorite of mine from Kurosawa), and Chiaki provide a solid base for the film.  But Machiko Kyō, as the wife (and who also appeared in the 1953 winner Gate of Hell), gives perhaps the most impressive performance, or more accurately, performances, with subtle but discernible differences in her character showing up in the different versions of what happened.

Rashomon is the film that got me watching Kurosawa films long ago, and over the years, I would have a hard time sticking to one favorite:  Seven Samurai, Ikiru, Throne of Blood, Yojimbo, and Ran have all topped my list over time (and Dersu Uzula won Best Foreign Film in 1972). Each has its own greatness and I could make a valid, subjective argument as to why each should be considered Kurosawa’s best.  But objectively speaking, Rashomon was the movie that affected me first and made me want to see the others.  There is no disputing that Truth.

"We both have truths.  Are mine the same as yours?"
The Title: 羅生  The name comes from a short story by Japanese writer Ryūnosuke Akutagawa, and is the name of an actual gate in Tokyo, but the story is adapted from another Akutagawa short story, In a Grove, published in 1922.

The culture:  The setting of the film isn’t as important as the story, which has been told in other forms over the years, including the 1964’s The Outrage, starring Paul Newman as the bandit.  But the “Japanese” element of the film is important to this film, with the juxtaposition of the wealth and status of the samurai and his wife to the ruthless bandit.  There is a falseness to the honor of the higher class characters and a central moral strength in the Buddhist priest.

Agenda danger:  Pope John Paul II wrote, “Although each individual has a right to be respected in his own journey in search of the truth, there exists a prior moral obligation, and a grave one at that, to seek the truth and to adhere to it once it is known.”  I think Kurosawa would agree.  The priest in the film laments, “Because men are weak, they lie to deceive themselves.”  It is the central horror of the film that Truth is so malleable.

Best Picture that year:  An American in Paris.

Rating:  German director Werner Herzog called Rashomon “the closest to ‘perfect’ a film can get.”  I don’t disagree.

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

1954 Winner, Gate of Hell



Gate of Hell


Director:  Teinosuke Kinugasa

Distributed by:  Daiei Film

Released:  October 1953

Country:  Japan

“He soon felt that the fulfillment of his desires gave him only one grain of the mountain of happiness he had expected. This fulfillment showed him the eternal error men make in imagining that their happiness depends on the realization of their desires.”
― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

Gate of Hell is a title that sounds like a horror movie, but it isn’t, unless you consider Man’s quick willingness to abandon his morality to be horrific.  Gate of Hell is about love, or rather, about one thinks love is rather than what it actually is.

Two stories came to mind when I watched this film.  One is of Salome in the New Testament, who after doing a strip tease of some sort, was promised by her creepy stepfather Herod anything up to half the kingdom.  He was so heated up by her gyrations that just stuffing a few shekels down her skivvies wouldn’t do, and it cost John the Baptist his head.  The other story I thought of was Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, a tale about a married woman who falls in love at a ball with a military man named Count Vronsky.  They are so into each other that they abandon all they care for just to be with each other, thinking love will conquer all.  Spoiler alert:  It doesn’t.

Kazuo Hasegawa as Morito
In 1954’s Best Foreign Film, Gate of Hell, centers around a Japanese samurai named Morito, who at first appears to be the embodiment of loyalty.  His brother is a leader of an uprising against a 13th century Japanese emperor.  Morito refuses to join the rebellion and is aghast at his brother’s behavior.  While the fighting rages, Morito is assigned to protect and move a lovely royal miss named Lady Kesa.  Morito sees her and reacts like Herod and Vronsky did to their respective lust-at-first-sights.

The battle ends and the royal family’s forces come out on top.  For his loyalty and bravery, especially for siding against his own brother, the emperor tells Morito he can ask for anything he wants and his wish will be granted.  Morito ponders this offer for about three seconds and says the prize he wants is none other than Lady Kesa.  The ruler confers with his pals and chucklingly says to Morito, “Well, you are a little late to the party—didn’t you see the rock on her finger?  She’s married.”  Morito’s response is pretty simple:  “So?” 

Lady Kesa, the object of Morito's desires
Morito makes a pest of himself and eventually he is given permission by the ruler to discuss the issue with Lady Kesa, but if she is not interested in leaving her man, a nice enough guy named Waturu, he has to take a cold shower or find a more available lady to exact his urges upon.  Morito doesn’t really seem to care what Lady Keso thinks; all he knows is she will be his—oh, yes—she will be his.  The problem is, Lady Keso kind of likes her husband.  Morito meets him and frankly he seems like a pretty good guy, but he is in the way and so he decides something has to be done about the "Waturu Problem."

Gate of Hell is a pretty film, full of color and movement.  It’s a fairly short film, clocking in at 86 minutes, but that underscores the tightness of the story—there is no time wasted on subplots or characters that don’t mean much.  Both main players do their jobs well-- Kazuo Hasegawa as Morito certainly isn’t a good-looking fellow, and you get the feeling it would indeed take the granting of a wish by an emperor for him to get a lovely woman for a wife.  Machiko Kyō, who also plays an important role in Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon (winner of the 1952 Best Foreign Film award), plays Lady Keso, a woman who didn’t ask for this attention.  The movie is a simple tale of a man allowing his weaknesses to get the best of him—his personal quality of loyalty gets chucked in a hurry the second he sees a pretty face.  Morito isn’t the first to make that choice and he certainly will not be the last.

Asking the Emperor for Lady Keso
The Title:  地獄門, also called Jigokumon.  It’s a physical place in the film to be protected, but Morito’s letting his passions dictate his behavior is what will lead him to be willing to go through the proverbial gate into the dark side.

The culture:  This is Japan’s first color film export and it’s a treat to look at.  With Rashomon winning Best Foreign Film a few years earlier and Samurai I: Musashi Miyamoto winning the following year, this truly was a golden age of Japanese cinema.  Also important during this period are directors Kenji Mizoguchi (who directed the classics Ugetsu [1953] and Sansho the Bailiff [1954]) and Yasujirō Ozu (1953’s Tokyo Story).

Agenda danger:  Certainly there is a message here, and unfortunately and tragically, Morito doesn’t learn it until the end of the film.

Best Picture that year:  On the Waterfront.

Rating:  The aforementioned films by Kurosawa, Mizoguchi, and Ozu certainly are more noteworthy and important when it comes to Japanese cinema.  But Gate of Hell is well-directed, with great performances and a succinct story.  It’s a cautionary tale about subject matter that will apply to any culture and time, as long as there are people who confuse love and lust.  And there always will be.