La légende de judo

This film was Kurasawa's big splash. The story based on the legends of Shiro Sakata, Jigoro Kano's (the founder of Kodokan Judo) bad boy is told with the art that only Kurasawa could muster. Fantastic camera work, tense and controlled action and done when Japan was losing the war. The film was competently remade in the early 60's with Mifune and Koyama. But, Koyama could not capture the simple intensity of Fujita in the original title role. A great monument to one of the greatest directors of all times, this film must be seen more than once to be thoroughly enjoyed.

For 1942 (before the Pacific war actually started for Japan) one is struck by the modernity of technique, the adventurous way the film is visually narrated. The story is admittedly pretty creaky, but not unenjoyable. Interestingly, the evil characters are in Western clothes, whereas the wholesome good guys are salt-of-the-earth Japanese style, portending the coming war of values with the West.

A movie which gets better as it goes along, this is essentially a story about judo matches and honor. The fight scenes are good, they have a good level of tension. You see some elements to Kurosawa's film making here, like pointing the camera up at the sky, that he has used to even greater effect since. There is a love story here too, in the character Cree's opponents daughter, Siu. My copy of this film left some to be desired, in that the subtitles are not perfect, and it is not a great transfer, but this film has been on IFC, and that is the more recommended way I suggest you see this film. Not perfect, but it holds your interest, and it is Kurosawa, which is enough of an endorsement to watch any film.

There's a great small scene about ten to fifteen minutes into Sanshiro Sugata where the young and inexperienced Sugata, who has just gotten into a turbulent street-fight, is told by a judo instructor- the one he wants to be his instructor- that he has no humanity, at least not to be fighting Judo, and that giving judo skills to one without humanity is "like giving a knife to a lunatic." Did Akira Kurosawa know that one of his paramount concerns as a filmmaker would be to tell stories where characters were faced with this problem, of either gaining appropriate humanity, or losing it, or having the difficult but rewarding task of embracing it for him/herself? Probably not exactly, at the least that his other end of the career spectrum- Madadayo- would be precisely concerned with this ideal, of a man having to deal with self worth, and the skills that one's been given in life properly and with humility (and, in essence, Kurosawa himself as a director). But it's of interesting note, at least in the scope of his first film, Sanshiro Sugata (Judo Saga), which contains many of the trademarks of a Kurosawa film, and at the same time the fiery passion, if only in big spurts, of a filmmaker right on the edge of a career for Toho studios.

There are little notes to take for Kurosawa fans, little things that will give many a grin and even a laugh at what pops up: the classic "wipes" as means of scene transitions; the usage of slow-motion during an action/fight sequence, in this case at the end of a fight as the opponent conks out and the flag (this part in slow-motion) falls to the ground; Takashi Shimura, who appeared in more Kurosawa films than Mifune, as one of Sugata's opponents, who's a tough cookie but a fair fight who at the end gives Sugata praise as a great fighter; symbolism in usage of the sky, flowers, and other Earthly means as a way to communicate the environment of a scene, and a specific nature about it, as much as the characters in it. All the same, this is not to say that Sanshiro Sugata is exactly a masterwork right off the bat for the 32 year old filmmaker; the use of certain symbols, like when Sugata is in the mucky pond trying to have his own form of penance and snaps out of it once seeing a flower right in front of his face, isn't really as effective as intended and comes off as more of a cliché than anything else. The subplot with Sugata and the daughter is undercooked as romance, even as brief as it is. And the fact that the film now stands as missing 17 minutes is a hindrance; one has to comment on what remains as opposed to what could have been a complete work from Kurosawa (not as detrimental as the Idiot, but still bothersome all the same as in the title-card transitions).

But as an act of passionate action film-making, it stands its ground some 60+ years later in containing some intense scenes involving Sugata's training (I liked seeing Sugata coming face to face with a man who wants to challenge his boss, and dressed in more Western garb than anyone else in the film), and more specifically the actual fight scenes. While its a given that Kurosawa is a pro at getting down stubborn men- and professional traditionalist men for that matter- getting down and dirty and violent, it's impressive in hindsight from the rest of his career that he could add tension just by tilting the camera up during the street-fight, or in staying on the faces of the fighters, and numerous reaction shots, during the fights in the arena area. The Shimura fight especially has an aura of being as thrilling as a modern fight sequence, with aforementioned humanity coming through with every pummel and thrust and toss-up of one character over another. This all leads up to the climax, which is not only a highlight of the film but a highlight in the history of classic Japanese action sequences, as we see Kurosawa already relying on the sky, the grass pushed and pulled by wind, and the compassion of the others around the two opponents (the old man and the girl) as a fight to the death, seen mostly out of sight through the grass, proceeds intensely more due to the intent and emotion of the characters than traditional stunts and fast-pace editing.

Sanshiro Sugata is a worthy production in the cinematic cannon of Kurosawa, acting as a very good stand-alone effort for genre fans while speaking to his practically intuitive cinematic strengths at controlling the pace of a scene and meaning via certain visual cues and enjoyable performances garnered by the pro actors. It does show some of its age, and along with the cuts made in the only version available today (in a print, by the way, that is rather horrid considering who the director is) it had to face some given restrictions due to Japan's censorship laws, but it's also a cunning display of a debut showcasing the talents of a confident director in a film that was meant to be seen by a mass audience, if only for diversion during the war.

Before you seek this out, know that it is an incomplete restoration. Bits are missing. Some edits are inexplicable and some scenes are muddy.

Having said that, you will find this to be one of Kurasawa's most interesting projects. Two things...

One is that this was made by the bad guys during the war. Incredible atrocities were being committed in the name of racial superiority and the supposition of a refined nobility. Japanese, German and American films (even Italian ones) turned to reinforcing the national character. In the Japanese case, that was linked to matters of honor refracted through Shinto spirituality, honor of a past ideal that never really existed, which in US terms means what "conservatives" tout.

It was a terrible exercise, more obvious in looking at it from the outside and knowing the context. Kurosawa's story was every bit as engineered for this purpose as any Reifenstahl project. Oddly, this film is fragmented because the sensors thought it not ennobling enough. One presumes that Kurosawa's moments of reflection, and possibly a whole love story, were among the half of the movie that was removed. So just on the level of the story itself (a modernized samurai tale), its of interest.

But it IS Kurasawa, so we have to pay attention to the way the camera engages with the space. This is his very first film as director, though he had written before. In all his films he registers the camera first in a space and then allows action to happen in that space. He has three periods of different types of spatial identity, each illuminating, each inventing new language. But this is before all that and what we have is clear, overt experimentation with space. Some of it is quite thrilling, quite independent of the fascist movement of the story proper.

Even here, he is breaking the rules of flat Japanese composition from eons of painting. He was considered unJapanese in his native country and never very popular. So at the same time that those censors were chopping story and posture they must have been shaking their heads at this three dimensional art, and wondering if they had already lost the war — and if they won, what for?

Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.