Akira Kurosawa

(On Cable TV, June 2021) Writer-director Akira Kurosawa goes Russian in Dersu Uzala, a film largely shot on location in far-eastern Russia, just across the sea from Kurosawa’s Japan. At a typically overlong 144 minutes, the film gets to spend a lot of time in the wilderness, as it details the friendship between a young urbane captain exploring the region on behalf of the government and an older native hunter who guides them through the territory. Thematically, the film is a lengthy meditation on the encroachment of civilization over nature, or the ways through which humans can choose to either beat back nature or make accommodations. Accordingly, Dersu Uzala has many, many nature shots — although I was disappointed at the quality of the result, especially knowing that the film was shot in 70 mm. Maybe it’s time for a restoration… or maybe the negatives are just that bad. Still, there’s plenty to see over the film’s running time: The sequence with the tiger alone is still really effective. It all builds to a very melancholic conclusion that doesn’t offer much comfort, but keeps developing its themes until the very end. If my appreciation for Dersu Uzala is limited, it’s for the same reasons why I’m cool to many of Kurosawa’s lesser-known features — well designed, but overlong and archly executed in a way that makes it unbearably heavy. This isn’t to take away from the artistic merits of it, but to comment on how effective they are at reaching this specific viewer.

(On Cable TV, April 2020) Writer-director Akira Kurosawa turns in another interesting postwar Japanese thriller with Stray Dog—a story that may seem low-stakes at first, but eventually becomes a satisfying exploration of a policeman with a conscience. Taking place during a summer heat wave that you can almost feel through the screen, it follows a policeman after he gets his gun stolen during a tram ride. When the gun is used in a series of petty crimes, the guilt-ridden policeman fights to keep his humanism while chasing the suspect. There are strong dramatic anchors here beyond the police procedural surface. The portrait of postwar Japan is gripping, and you can see this proto-buddy movie as a template for other efforts. The script works its way to a great showdown, through good sequences such as the first foot chase and some material that is borderline comedy. A solid second-tier Kurosawa, perhaps even a bit better than that if you’re a fan of his movies set in then-contemporary times.

(Criterion Streaming, November 2019) Noteworthy for inspiring good chunks of Star Wars, The Hidden Fortress once again finds writer-director Akira Kurosawa in feudal Japan, this time following two lowly peasants as they find themselves embroiled in serious matters of war and dynastic succession. You can clearly see R2D2 and C3P0 here, but the film is more episodic in how it constantly sends its viewpoint characters (not necessarily protagonists) from one difficult situation to another. There’s an undercurrent of dark humour running through it, and there’s a clear intention to entertain audiences through various set-pieces. While the film often gets short thrift compared to Kurosawa’s better-known and more serious samurai films, The Hidden Fortress does hold up well, and may represent a surprise for those more used to Kurosawa’s other better-known films.

(Kanopy Streaming, October 2018) As a third-generation public servant, I know all the clichés, heard all the jokes, can predict all the editorials about bureaucrats—and fiction is rarely any kinder. Few creators understand the trade-offs and constraints of a public service job, nor the satisfaction of doing good in the role: In the rare occasions where a bureaucrat shows up in a story, it’s usually to provide one more obstacle for the hero. All of this may explain my instant admiration of Akira Kurosawa’s Ikiru, a quiet and deceptive film as far removed from his Seven Samurai and Yojimbo as it’s possible to be, but far more relevant to my specific circumstances. All of the film revolves around a mid-career municipal bureaucrat who, at the beginning of the film, seems satisfied living out his career until retirement. But he won’t get there: before long, he’s diagnosed with terminal cancer and given a few months to live. After a short period of debauchery (easily the least satisfying part of the film), our protagonist decides to use his last remaining months to do some good. But as we’re anticipating the payoff … the film skips to his funeral, and transforms itself in a very unusual story: A eulogy suspense, in which the remaining characters spend his wake poking and prodding at the dead man’s life while we, the audience, wait to hear whether they will understand his achievements. It all comes together in a strong finale, in which the value of the dead hero is finally revealed. It’s quite the movie, although I suspect I’m most susceptible than most in reading a lot of meaning in the final result. It’s uncanny how a story set in reconstruction Japan can feel as relevant sixty-five years and a continent away, but as far as I’m concerned Ikiru instantly deserves inclusion in the select list of essential works for any public servant. (Office Space; any version of “The Emperor with No Clothes”; any of the stories in Keith Laumer’s Retief series; Yes [Prime] Minister, In the Thick of It and Out of the Loop)

(On DVD, October 2018) This is not going to make me any friends, but I found director Akira Kurosawa’s much acclaimed Ran a slog to get through. My attention frequently wandered (which is particularly problematic for a subtitled film) as the film made me impatient to get to something else. With a duration of more than three hours and a story set in feudal Japan, Ran does ask a lot of casual viewers. The rewards are there if you’re willing to grab them: The colours of the film are magnificent, which is a revelation given that many of Kurosawa’s most acclaimed work are from the black-and-white era. The story is an interesting retelling of Shakespeare’s King Lear, bridging western and eastern culture in a unique blend. Still, I’m an impatient viewer and I did not remain connected to Ran for much of its duration. I won’t blame the film for my own failing, but I won’t try to pretend that I loved it. Maybe I’ll have another look later.

(In French, On TV, June 2017) I tried. I really tried. I’m not a Cahiers du Cinema subscriber, but that doesn’t mean I’m unwilling to take a look at classics and see what they’re about. But Kagemusha has defeated me. It shouldn’t be a struggle to watch the film: it’s got intrigue, historical detail, colourful costumes and the legendary director Akira Kurosawa at the helm. And yet, despite everything, I was bored stiff by the movie, and it happened from the very first moments, which features a five-minute static shot of three characters speaking. My interest in the movie kept wandering despite my best attempts at staying focused. No success: I bounced hard off the historical context, found the direction uninspiring compared to what it tries to portray, and the pacing to be worse than glacial. I know I dozed off at some point, but I can’t say for how long. It may have been forever, because the rest of the film certainly felt like forever. Ending on a downer note doesn’t really help either. It’s a good thing I’m not a member of any serious movie critic’s organization, because I’m pretty such I’d have to resign if ever it became known that I couldn’t stay interested in a Kurosawa film.