Since 2010 is the centennial of Akira Kurosawa’s birth both Cinémathèque Ontario and the Bloor Cinema have organized screenings of some of the filmmaker’s most notable works. Watching Kurosawa’s films, especially those from his classic period during the 1950s and 1960s, one can appreciate his contributions as a director and screenwriter.
The Seven Samurai: I’ve reviewed this film previously and can reaffirm that the film deserves its exalted place among cinema’s greatest achievements. The film introduces many storytelling techniques to cinema, such as introducing the protagonist via an unrelated caper that showcases their bravery, fighting skill, or sometimes ingenuity and using the rising action of the story to recruit characters for the climatic action sequence. Kurosawa creates several characters that are now archetypes, such as the wise samurai who may not have experienced much success in battle but knows a great deal, the impudent outcast, and the young naive man yearning to join the Rōnin as an apprentice. The screenplay also balances gripping action with deadpan humour.
To appreciate the significance of this plot and character development, one needs to understand how badly Hollywood botches the execution of these techniques today. Kurosawa’s characters are not paper-thin but nuanced paintings; all of their actions reveal something about the character. These character development moments throughout the epic pull the audience into the film, leaving them excited about a nearing climax involving characters they know. Truly, the remake scheduled for release next year will be a veritable gong show. ****
Madadayo: The director’s last work, released in 1993 is much more contemplative. Four students seek to give back to a professor who taught them many lessons inside and outside the classroom. When the film begins, the students are young and the professor has recently retired. He loses his home in an air-raid so they decide to organize a banquet in his honour and build him and his wife a new house.
As the film progresses, the professor ages and the four students progress in the business world. Although the professor is older, he remains enthusiastic and cheerful, except during a brief period after his cat ran away. “Madadayo” means “Not Yet,” a alluding to the youthful game of hide and seek and the final moment when the professor will be asked “Ready?” and will be prepared to say yes.
It is a slow film. Given how much Kursosawa inspired George Lucas, it is perhaps only fitting that he use a Yoda-like protagonist in his final film. Kurosawa’s touch can be seen in some of the camera angles and the combination of humour and sadness. Vivaldi’s Four Seasons (Spring) is used as the soundtrack and along with Kurosawa’s hand it shows the passing of time over many years. The film adapts the writings of Hyakken Uchida and asks the questions “What do we contribute to others?” and “How can we thank those who have helped us?” ***½
Stray Dog: The Bloor screened two films over the last couple of evenings that represent the two main genres of Kurosawa’s early career: film noir and samurai films. Stray Dog is a police buddy flick, a C.S.I. mystery, and an action film. Comparing Kurosawa’s 1949 film to something comparable, for example The Treasure of the Sierra Madre by John Huston, it is easy to see which is more influential on today’s cinema. It’s not a perfect Hollywood film but rather a gritty story that paves the way for many films that followed. Would Elia Kazan have received acknowledgement for On the Waterfront if international had not first won acclaim at the Cannes and Venice film festivals for works like this?
The Japanese film provides innovative camera angles, such as showing characters from a low angle to make the audience into a furtive observer, and storytelling techniques such as a first person narration to show what the protagonist is thinking. The screenplay asks “what makes us who we are?” The police officer and the criminal share similar backgrounds – disconnected war veterans who were robbed on the train ride home – but while the hero changed his life and decided to give back, the villain fell off the rails. ****
Yojimbo: Kurosawa’s films exhibit a combination of comedy and drama. The wit that he shows with pen and paper is on par with the creativity that he demonstrates behind the lens. Toshirō Mifune’s samurai is guarded but he wins the audience over with this mannerisms and one-liners. The samurai visits a village where two criminal factions are fighting for control. His skills with the sword enable him to play both factions off each other, offering to work as a bodyguard.
The film moves swiftly but contains enough twists to remain unpredictable. The audience learns about the criminal gangs through their relationships with the samurai. Often, while action occurs in the town’s main street, the camera lingers on Mifune as he watches the action from afar. A memorable wide angle fixed shot shows the samurai atop a tall tower as the criminals fight at ground level.
Mifune is frequently filmed from behind, an angle that focuses on his robe, sword, and hair bun. During these shots he is more a faceless person who represents how anyone can stand up for what is right. ****