High and Low (1963) dir. Akira Kurosawa
Starring: Toshiru Mifune, Tatsuya Nakadai, Kyôko Kagawa, Tatsuya Mihashi, Isao Kimura

****

By Alan Bacchus

This is my favourite Kurosawa film, without question. Perhaps I appreciate it so much because it falls outside the feudal period – a Samurai picture. Here, it’s the present, and Mr. Kurosawa executes the procedural crime thriller to end all procedurals. High and Low is more than just an exercise in style. Kurosawa expertly plugs distinctly Japanese themes of honour, pride and the class system that has been in existence since the feudal period into Ed McBain’s American crime novel (the original source material).

Toshiro Mifune plays Kingo Gondo, a ruthless businessman who is introduced along with his fellow company directors arranging pieces on a chess board of sorts to engineer a hostile takeover of their shoe company ‘National Shoes’. When Gondo doesn’t comply with the other directors’ demands his colleagues storm out of the house sowing the seeds of corporate warfare. Later that night, Gondo receives an anonymous phone call demanding a ransom for his kidnapped son. Coincidence?

That set-up would be dramatic enough, but Kurosawa twists the scenario to create an even more complex problem. Soon after Gondo agrees to pay up, his son shows up at the house, which means it was his friend, the son of Gondo’s limo driver, that was the kidnap victim. Now Gondo is put into an even tighter vice. The ransom money is enough to ruin him. Does he sacrifice this for another man? The ethical question is difficult enough, but as a business owner, what about the public opinion against Gondo if he doesn’t pay up?

Meanwhile, the cops are on the case – remarkably thorough and thoughtful cops, mind you. They’re cops that can sleuth out and analyze the details as good as anyone in CSI or a Michael Mann film, but remarkably decent human beings with impeccable bedside manner. The Chief Detective Tokura’s devotion to serving Gondo is as engaging as the procedural compilation of the evidence behind the crime.

This relationship is key to serving Kurosawa’s theme and defining this procedural genre he’s practically inventing. In the best genre films, we discover character and theme through action, in this case, the work assigned to Tokura. As Tokura and his team meticulously pour over every detail, however insignificant or minute, we come to appreciate the work ethic and pride he has for his job. Gondo echoes the same attitude when wrestling with the prospect of losing his job. For Tokura (and for much of Japanese society), he is defined by his work, the loss of which is worse than death.

The setting and location supports another key theme – class. For half of the picture we’re exclusively in Gondo’s magnificent house perched atop a hill in Tokyo, which looks down upon the rest of the town. It’s a literal representation of Gondo's superiority over the lower classes. The specific Japanese class definitions are expressed chiefly through Gondo’s relationship with the limo driver, who despite losing his son, is obliged by the nature of his job and position in society to feel sympathy for his employee before himself. It’s enlightening but truly sad to see the poor man grovel and plead for the money to save his son, a sacrifice we know is most painful.

This is the guts of this wonderfully rich and layered potboiler. And if there wasn’t enough depth on the page, Kurosawa’s cinematic instincts elevate the work even higher. I can’t think of another film that uses the widescreen frame better than High and Low. Shot in true anamorphic 2:35:1 ratio, Kurosawa populates the scenes by maximizing every inch of the frame. In almost every scene we see a dozen or more characters working or reacting to the events in play. Even in the opening scenes in Gondo’s contained hilltop house we see Tokura’s men dotted in the foreground and background. In the magnificent ‘evidence’ scene when Tokura solicits the results of the investigation there are more than 20 people in every shot, the effect of which supports the theme of work and provides terrific visual compositions. Even when there are 24 people or more, Kurosawa’s mise-en-scene knows how to draw our attention to his intended subject. He never needs to frame a close-up or reaction shot.

High and Low is available in magnificently pristine high definition Blu-ray from The Criterion Collection. It was Kurosawa’s second last B&W film (before Red Beard) and was at the tail end of his remarkable association with Toshiro Mifune. It showcases a great filmmaker at the pinnacle of his career in absolute command of the medium, a film accessible to all audiences, Japanese or American, mainstream or art house.

High and Low is available on Blu-ray from The Criterion Collection.

Drunken Angel (1948) dir. Akira Kurosawa
Starring: Toshiro Mifune, Takeshi Shimura

***1/2

by Alan Bacchus

“Drunken Angel” was the beginning of the director’s influential collaboration with Toshiro Mifune. Set in post war Japan, Mifune plays a yakuza gangster who strikes an unusual friendship with his doctor played by Takeshi Shimura. The film is also considered Kurosawa’s first auteur film with a fully realized creative control. It doesn’t disappoint.

Two of the great Kurosawa players, Takeshi Shimura and Toshiro Mifune, play friends and adversaries in a small village in post war Japan. The opening shot establishes a toxic lake of post-war chemicals, which has caused much sickness, disease and squalor. The depressed area has also brought the Yakuza and their misanthropic brothels, booze and violence. Matsunaga (Mifune) is a handsome tuberculosis-afflicted gangster who is treated by a doctor Sanada (Takeshi Shimura). At the beginning Matsunaga is standoffish to Sanada’s vehement pestering to change his lifestyle for the sake of his disease. But when the ruthless yakuza boss Okada returns to the village to reclaim his power over the gang, Matsunaga finds himself at an impasse in his life. With death knocking at his door, he sees Sanada’s selfless gestures as a sign to change his life for the better. The film climaxes with one of Kurosawa’s most famous violent endings, a heroic fight between Matsunaga and Okada.

The time and place of “Drunken Angel” is as important as any of Kurosawa’s films. In 1948, much of Japan was war torn and in the midst of rebuilding. The conflict in every scene is born from the filthy swamp – a symbol for their violent defeat in WWII. Out of this setting Kurosawa builds two great complex characters: Matsunaga, the doomed Yakuza whose honour is crushed with the return of his ruthless comrade and Sanada the pathetic failed doctor who can only sustain his practice by treating gangsters and thugs and. The contradiction which brings the two together is Sanada’s instinctive need to care for his patients in and out of the office – specifically Matsunaga.

In addition to his two great characters Kurosawa builds a tight and suspense narrative when Okada, the ruthless Yakuza leader returns to the village. The subplot involving his search for his former girlfriend, who is now Sanada’s assistant, provides the stakes and jeopardy which results in Matsunaga’s heroism in the end. Though the final fight in the hallway, slipping around through spilled paint cans, has become famous I was disappointed with the climax. When Matsunaga decides in his weakened diseased state to confront Okada, suspense is built for a climatic David vs. Goliath match up. Although Okada is established as a ruthless killer, but we never see Okada demonstrate this power. And so I think their sloppy choreography reduces the power of that scene.

The Criterion Disc as usual out does itself with the special features and packaging of the material. We are treated to a wonderful 30 mins documentary on the making of film. It was made prior to Kurosawa’s death, and so we get a well-made and polished documentary with Kurosawa and his collaborators completely deconstructing the film. We get to learn not only about the technical aspects of the set construction, but also how Kurosawa and Mifune first met and collaborated.

“Drunken Angel” is special because Kurosawa wonderfully blends the Westernized genre elements of a complex noir, with the wholly Japanese themes of honour and self-sacrifice. These sensibilities would become more important and recognizable in his later films which brought his international success. Enjoy.

Ran (1985) dir. Akira Kurosawa
Starring: Tatsuya Nakadai, Akira Terao, Jinpachi Nezu, Daisuke Ryû, Mieko Harada

***1/2

By Alan Bacchus

The 1980’s were kind to Mr. Kurosawa, the legendary cinema master who by 1985, was nothing short of a living legend. After a tepid decade of the 70’s with a couple of odd, though no less interesting features, ‘Dodes'ka-den’, and ‘Dersu Uzala’, Kurosawa returned to his genre of choice, with two astounding epic Samurai films which effectively tied a neat bow to his illustrious career (his 90's non-Samurai films notwithstanding).

The first was 'Kagemusha: The Shadow Warrior', a beautiful and powerful film with an endearing humanist core, and second is 'Ran' – perhaps his most brutal and cynical film. Loosely based on ‘King Lear’, Ran is the third film in Kurosawa’s filmography which adapted Shakespeare to feudal Japan. At the outset we meet elder warlord Hidetora Ichimonji (Tatsuya Nakadai) who announces he’s giving up control of his empire to his three sons, Taro, Jiro, and Saburo, but with a distinct hierarchy – Taro, the eldest receiving the presitgious first castle and Jiro and Saburo the lesser of the three castles and in essence subordination to Taro. This gesture, which for Ichimonji is meant as a gesture of goodwill, is met with conflict and argument by all. And it doesn’t take long for the brothers to wage war against each other for ultimate power.

The result is Kurosawa’s bloodiest and most violent film, a deep penetrating brutality which digs deeper than mere flesh and blood but actions and choices of his main characters which demolishes the sacredness of family.

As a 'Jidaigeki' film - a Japanese genre refering to the distinct melodramatic dramatic style of Japanese period films - there’s a distinct heightened theatricality to the performances, which for Japanese newbies, might be a little oft-putting. Even I find it difficult to get into many of these films, but like the works of Shakespeare, which are even more daunting to penetrate, Kurosawa’s theme are universal and identifiable. Like the tragedy of his main influence, 'King Lear' , 'Ran' lasers in on the effect of a life of greed on its main character and the dues he's forced to pay at the end of his life.

In the first half of the picture we sympathize with Ichimonji, whom we feel unjustly suffers the pain of his mutinous and greedy sons. But as Ichimonji’s journey progresses we discover the actions of his sons against him represent a shake of bad karma against his own despotic ways. Specifically, the blind character of Tsurumaru, who gives the fleeing Ichimonji shelter, only to discover Ichimonji, himself, was responsible for gauging his eyes out and rendering him blind. And the character of Lady Kaede, who at first comes off as the conniving and manipulative Lady Macbeth of the film, by the end reveals a lifetime of shame at the hands of Ichimonji who destroyed her family’s kingdom and made her marry his son, as a form of brutal subjugating punishment.

At 160mins, ‘Ran’ is no easy task to get through, especially if you have other distractions at home watch a DVD. Many of the scenes linger on and on longer than traditional Hollywood fare – the opening scene which contains the inciting incident could have cut out after 3 or 4 mins, instead Kurosawa stays with the scene for 10-12more mins.

But it's only two scenes in particular which elevate this picture to cinematic high art. The first is the phenomenal midpoint assault on Ichimonji’s castle – a scene of uncompromising brutally, with buckets of bright red blood, comparable to Sam Peckinpah’s carnage in 'The Wild Bunch', but executed with the grace and elegance of a Bergman film. As the armies of soldiers pound each other with swords, arrows and guns, Kurosawa takes out the sound, except for the music for a powerful sublime visual and aural effect.

The final battle scene features some of Kurosawa’s finest compositions, showing his best epic chops, comparable to David Lean’s late career work. Kurosawa uses the engulfing effect of the mountains and landscape to punish his characters and rendering their insatiable actions of greed petty and small. In the end, none of the characters get off scott free, a self-destruction of monumental proportions. And the awesome final shot, featuring the blind and innocent Tsurumaru wandering hopelessly on the edge of massive cliff reinforces this cynicism.

'Ran' is now available on Blu-Ray as part of the Criterion-comparable 'Studio Canal Collection' and via Maple Pictures in Canada. The Blu-Ray transfer is good, though not astounding, but is the ideal way, other than the theatre, to experience Kurosawa's awesome imagery.

Yojimbo (1961) dir. Akira Kurosawa
Starring: Toshiro Mifune

***

“Yojimbo” is a landmark film for Akira Kurosawa. He was already on the map with “Rashomon” (1951) and a master filmmaker by “Seven Samurai” (1954), but he became a living legend with “Yojimbo”. The film famously influenced Sergio Leone to create the Spaghetti Western “Dollars Trilogy” and George Lucas to create “Star Wars”. “Yojimbo” is a supreme example of the adaptability of Kurosawa’s storytelling, but unfortunately beyond historical significance it doesn’t quite stand up to Kurosawa’s other more revered works – “Ikiru”, or “High and Low” or “Seven Samurai”.

Toshiro Mifune plays Kuwabatake Sanjuro, a feudal Japanese Ronin who is first seen wandering rural Japan. He has nowhere to go and no timeline, and so he puts his fate to chance by throwing a stick on the ground to determine his direction. The stick directs him to the small township, similar to those one-horse towns from the American Western. Sanjuro is an opportunist and immediately he sees an opportunity to make some money and exploit the gang war that plagues the innocent bystanders. Sanjuro offers himself to the highest bidder and schemes from both sides of the conflict to incite the gangs to destroy themselves thereby freeing the citizens their tyrannous rule.

Kurosawa’s frames are brilliant. Widescreen black and white always looks good and “Yojimbo” is one of his best looking films. Kurosawa mixes long lens portraits, which influenced George Lucas and the classic wideangle establishing shots of the town, which influenced Leone.

Plot wise, the film doesn’t hold as well today as it did in 1961. The second act drags. Sanjuro’s manipulation of the gangs is never clearly thought out and the moment he is beaten up, there’s a long stretch where the film almost comes to a complete halt. Interestingly, “Fistful of Dollars” suffers from the same flaws as well.

It’s fun to watch the opening fight scene in “Yojimbo” to see where it influenced both George Lucas and Sergio Leone in separate ways. Leone takes Kurosawa’s humour, specifically mimicking Mifune’s last line to the coffin maker – “Two coffins... No, maybe three”. Lucas borrows the fighting style of the Samurai. Compare it the scene in “Star Wars: The Phantom Menace”, when Liam Neeson and Ewan Macgregor rescue the Natalie Portman from the droids in the first act. Watch how Neeson kills the droids with his lightsaber with speed and sheaths his saber exactly like Sanjuro.

The Western archetype is the prevailing theme – a wandering fighter, a loner who balances personal ethics with crafty selfishness. Wind and dust are important to the look and feel of the film. It fills the frame with chaotic movement while the characters move with slow deliberate steps. Like those who were influenced by him, Kurosawa’s work is an amalgam of several other sources - the great American Western filmmakers, John Ford, Howard Hawks, George Stevens, Japanese myths and classic Shakespeare.

The 1962 film “Sanjuro” is a sequel featuring the same character on a different adventure. Though it has some flaws as well, it features a fantastically bloody ending which “Yojimbo” lacks. But all quibbles aside there’s nothing to take away from Kurosawa. He is and always will be one of the top five filmmakers of all time. Enjoy.

Buy it here: Yojimbo - Criterion Collection

This is the final confrontation – spoilers obviously: