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Kurasawa spins one heck of a great yarn.

He loves to use contrasts: heat and a dry, gravelly landscapes contrast with a spring of cool, fresh water. Two bumbling, hilariously-sketched peasants contrast with the dignity of a Princess and a General.

I cannot believe how amazingly beautiful and memorable some of the scenes are! Mifune, galloping on horseback after the officials, with his arms raised, and his sword perpendicular to the saddle...his body unmoving, not a budge...and the horse beneath him is galloping, exploding in movement..racing full-tilt....the trees and bush in the background a blur, the horse's movements a blur, but Mifune is like a still shot in the midst of this speed...Kurasawa cuts and pans the scene. And, Mifune, solid, fierce, intent to kill ...that raised sword of vengeance. Wow. Blows me away.

Then, good old Minoru Chiaki, (one of the most lovable character actors in film) when he is so defeated by all the ill-fortune, sleeping on the ground, he wakes up and is crying to his buddy, "Let's be friends forever." I actually laugh out loud.

Characterization in a distilled form: When Mifune laughs as he enters the secret passage in the mountains surrounding the hidden fortress, he is such an heroic figure, he's almost frightening. When he tells of his sister's sacrifice...he is humble, and in pain, but careful not to show it. How can a guy communicate so much?

It's really quite funny when Mifune, after murdering the two horsemen rides directly into the midst of the opposing army's camp! Like...hello! But, then, the verbal exchange between Mifune and his opponent is so surprising and cool. The spear fight is my least favorite fight of all Mifune's battles. But, I love the ending of the fight, where he jumps on his horse and smiles as he leaves.

The film is an absolute pleasure to watch, and worth viewing many times, for the landscapes, variety of scene settings, humor, compassion, and for thrill of it.

Influential on American cinema? Sure, but that's not why this film is so much fun. It's Kurosawa giving us a scene "grand-as-any David Lean production" in the mass uprising of the peasants, it's the contrast of chalky white landscape with lush vegetation and a cool spring, it's the two peasants who entertain, it's Mifune at the top of his game, it's an entertaining story told brilliantly.

It's one of Kurosawa's most neglected masterpieces. "The Lower Depths" takes us into a ravine tenement, run by greedy, brutal landlords, and inhabited by the lowest of society's strata. All action takes place in two locations: the interior of the tenement, or the tenement grounds.

How amazing, then, is the fascination this film exerts on us, with its very modest settings. I am astonished at the creativity of the film shooting these restricted spaces, in so many varied and telling ways: space expands and contracts as is necessary to the story: the outside is either threatening or an escape, but even once outside, we see that there is no escape, and diagonals show us the human dimensions of restricted choice. Space speaks volumes in the film, accompanied by the beauty of the ensemble acting, expressing profound truths.

We find ourselves engaged in the lives of these people, and puzzled over the character of Bokuzen Hidari as the pilgrim. Is he good? If he is good, and pacifies the dispossessed by acknowledging their illusions, does it mean that self-deception is good? What wonderful ensemble acting! The director put them through long, tough rehearsals, and the result is a seamless film. No wrong notes, no overacting, just a beautiful and strange film that haunts us after we've experienced it. Such invisible, great acting, and humor and pathos.

The character of the actor is the finest piece of work by the Kurosawa veteran Kamatari Fujiwara. It is amazing that this actor appears in such diverse roles as Matahichi in "The Hidden Fortress" and as a corrupt executive in "The Bad Sleep Well". What astonishing range and depth! How brilliantly Kurosawa uses the actor's range! And, of course, we have our beloved Toshiro Mifune, laughing, kicking up his heels in devilish delight, trying to impress the girl, pouting with the landlady, listening with suspicion, then respect to the pilgrim...doing so many things so well, we are bereft when he is absent for the film's conclusion.

And what a conclusion! The harsh clappers that end the movie, the frontal shot of the gambler as he addresses us (for the only time in the film) directly, and the sudden end! Gorky...Kurosawa, Bokuzen Hidari, Toshiro Mifune, Kamatari Fujiwara and the rest....they live on in this masterpiece, for which I am very grateful.

Kurosawa's beautiful film Kagemusha is a meditation on subjects that have haunted the director throughout his career in cinema: the doppelganger or double, (which brings to question identity and how identity is formed, and where identity is located; is it in appearance, world views, actions, attitudes or loves? How does individual choice create a man? What if one's choices were different?) transformation (all Kurosawa heroes go through a transformation) the tragedy of war (note the elegiac images of horses struggling in death throes in the aftermath of the massacre at the film's conclusion) and despair (Kuroswa has investigated despair as few other filmmakers have...from The Lower Depths and Stray Dog to Ran, many of his films meditate deeply on human hearts without hope).

I cannot help but think that Kagemusha's deep feeling comes from the autobiographical: a man (the thief, played by Tatsuya Nakadai) must assume the role of the Lord (or, why not...they say it in the film..."Tenno"...or Emperor...used to describe Kurosaw himself).

Kuroaswa must have wondered, in his time of financial difficulty, after the dismissal of "Dodes-Kaden", after his suicide attempt, after losing his status, during his struggles to find financing for Kagemusha...he must have thought about what it is to assume a role of great authority, and to be dismissed from the role that gave his life meaning.

Tatsuya Nakadai being ejected forcibly from the castle...retainers throwing clods of mud and stones after him, like a stray dog being pelted and driven from the gates of a house...maybe Kurosawa felt that this is how his life had been. He has said, "I am afraid that me minus movies equals nothing". His identity, so involved in the creation of film, in making his meditations and dreams communicated through the medium of film, and the life that grew up around the creation...the friendships, the experiences, the world of making that makes a world...it must have been horrible for him to realize how fragile and easily shattered that world could be! Federico Fellini once said in an interview that criticism felt somehow impertinent...that his work was a reflection of who he was as a human being, and to judge one's work seemed an insult. I remember this as I think about Kagemusha and the other films of Akira Kurosawa. It is with great humility that I approach my thinking about these films, and would refuse, even if forced, to rank them. That really would be impertinent, and an insult to a life dedicated to the highest good an artist can achieve: an honest look at human experience with the intent of understanding the mysteries of the human heart.