Exfanding Review: Seven Samurai

This past Wednesday, Nathaniel, guest poster neko-chan, and I celebrated the comic book skip week in a fitting way--we continued the plunge into our brand-new fandom: the films of Akira Kurosawa. For our fifth and final formal foray into the work of the internationally famous Japanese filmmaker, we watched Seven Samurai, which was the longest--and generally best-liked--of the films we've seen so far.

Let's start with the obligatory, what was Seven Samurai about question, shall we?

Alex: Sounds good. Seven Samurai is about a small farming village that is on the verge of being wiped out by violent rebels. At their collective wits' end, and terrified of what the future may hold, the villagers seek advice from their elder, who tells them to hire samurai to help defend their home.

After being rejected by many different samurai, one finally agrees to help--accepting payment in food because he is a noble soul. This samurai, named Kambei, immediately sets out to find others to help him defend the village.

Kambei, along with four other seasoned ronin, one young samurai apprentice, and a farmer (Kikuchiyo, played by Toshiro Mifune) whom they accept as a samurai, become tasked with training the villagers and preparing them for the imminent attack from the rebels.

The battle between villagers and rebels comes in the last hour or so of the film, and leads to...

[SPOILER ALERT]

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...the samurai and the villagers defeating the rebels and successfully defending their village. [END SPOILERS]

Nathaniel: Yeah, I don't think there's anything I need to add here.

What modern film/films might you compare Seven Samurai to?

Alex: Well, the obvious answer is The Magnificent Seven, which was based on Kurosawa's epic. But that film was made in 1960, just six years after Samurai. No, I'm gonna go with (and I know this is cheating, since it was a book first), The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. Interestingly, Tolkien's second book in the trilogy was written in 1954, the same year that Kurosawa's film was released in theaters.

It's a coincidence, sure, but a pretty cool one.

I'll speak mostly to the film version of Two Towers, though, because as we watched Samurai, I kept thinking about Peter Jackson, and that film. Much of Samurai is spent anticipating the attack from the rebels. We're in the (now fortified, thanks to the samurai) village, and as the film moves along, we grow just as anxious as the villagers, awaiting the battle.

This was done very effectively, and it really helped put me in the film.

I got a similar feeling while watching Two Towers--that pit in my stomach I developed while thinking about putting myself in the position of one of the fighters. What must it be like days and days before the battle, not knowing exactly when the enemy will strike? Or how about when you finally see the enemy on the horizon, lined up in rows and rows, and you know you're outnumbered?

Kurosawa was able to build up the anticipation for the final battle, and the end result was perfect. Just like in Two Towers, the final battle in Samurai was epic and wonderfully choreographed and filmed.

Nathaniel: What he said.

Compare this Kurosawa film to the others you've seen.

Alex: Um, that's not a question. But OK. While I previously stated that Rashomon was my favorite of the five movies we've watched, I need to change that answer. I was totally engrossed in Samurai, from beginning to end. Considering it's an over-three-hour long film, that's saying something, especially with my modern, "let's blow some stuff up and go home" movie-going sensibilities.

Nathaniel: It's strange; of the five films we watched--and please allow me to explain what I mean before you get upset--Seven Samurai was the least distinctive. My experience of The Hidden Fortress was characterized by a lot of "Whoa! I've never seen that in a '50s movie!" moments; Ran was extremely colorful and had a tremendous amount of exposition; Yojimbo felt very much like a Japanese cowboy movie; Rashomon felt very much like a stage play, but Seven Samurai... Maybe I haven't had enough time to reflect on it yet, but no single aspect of the movie stood out as heavily as anything I saw in the other films, but that's by no means a bad thing.

Seven Samurai was not so much a movie as it was an expertly crafted story that happened to have been told through the medium of film. In the other four movies, I'd occasionally pick out specific elements such as a particular actor's performance or a unique camera shot that would take me out of the movie a little bit because I felt moved to analyze it on the spot.

Not so with Seven Samurai; though there is much to analyze, the whole production was organic and subtle, never overdone nor underdone, and every element worked together in brilliant harmony to keep me enraptured in the movie the entire time, or at least until I started to get hungry all of 10 minutes before the built-in intermission.

What is so appealing about this movie?

Nathaniel: Though there are so many good and great things about this film, I think its popularity is most likely rooted in the story: People love a great underdog story, and the characters are wholly relatable--most anyone can identify with the everyday villagers, and the heroes, while so much more talented in combat than any of the villagers could hope to match, are still human. The story stirs up feelings of oppression, fear, hope, and freedom, and those are universal themes.

Alex: The story kept me engaged, the acting was great--again, Mifune shined in his role as haunted farmer/samurai--and I was completely wrapped up in the film. I can't really say much more than that.

This film was the longest of all the Kurosawa films we've seen; was it difficult to stay focused and awake the whole time?

Nathaniel: Amazingly, no. My attention span for movies has been dwindling in my old age, but I can still stomach longer movies if the pacing is good.

Seven Samurai gets an A+ for pacing.

Throughout the entire film there was a building sense of progress and anticipation; more and more samurai joined the cause of the villagers, battle preparations continued, and the time to fight drew nearer all the time. Every time the tension and unnerving calmness reached the verge of being too much to bear, a little skirmish would break out or a situation would arise to push the story forward. I was focused and attentive a greater percentage of the time than I was for any of the previous films, including the shorter-than-average Rashomon, which I had previously believed to have the best pace out of any of them.

Alex: Before we sat down to watch the flick, I told Nathaniel that, if he sees my eyes closed and hears snoring-like sounds coming from my end of the couch, it's because I am very focused on the movie. And that's how I show focus.

It's funny, because Nathaniel and I had a habit of talking through the slower parts of some of these movies. There were whole chunks of Ran that we gabbed through, for instance, but other than a few comments at the start of Samurai (and one hilarious comment somewhere in the middle of the film about a bear), we were all pretty wrapped up in the movie.

Did anything surprise you about this film?

Alex: Lots of things, actually. I was pretty terrified of sitting through a three-plus hour flick, especially since some of the other films we watched tended to drag in places. I was pretty shocked at how deeply involved in the film I got.

Nathaniel: Spoiler alert and all that, but... people die. And not just anybody. People with names. Good guys and bad guys alike. Sometimes it was oddly poetic, and sometimes it was tragic, but nothing ever happened strictly for shock or entertainment value. The story never felt forced in that regard--when it was someone's time to go, it was because the sequence of events had led to that point, not because it seemed like a good idea at the time.

How did Toshiro Mifune's performance here compare to what we saw in the previous four films?

Alex: Boy, he plays such a wide range of characters in these movies, it's really amazing. It seems like the most difficult part in each movie goes to Mifune, and he always handles the roles with the utmost skill.

In Samurai especially, Mifune balanced a somewhat maniacal, sometimes drunken demeanor with this sense of nobility and honor. It was quite an impressive performance.

Nathaniel: Each of the roles we've seen has had something in common with at least one of the other roles we've seen, but Mifune always plays a different character, and as Alex pointed out, it's usually the most difficult part in the movie.

In a way, it's been like watching the actor evolve--in Rashomon, for example Mifune plays a madman with moments of frightening sanity; in Samurai, he plays a slightly more controlled and honorable madman whose madness begins to make sense as more of his troubled character is revealed. Even when Mifune plays a character that's similar to another he's already played, he still manages to draw out something unique to differentiate them, and his role in Samurai is no exception.

Looking back on The Hidden Fortress, Ran, Yojimbo, Rashomon, and Seven Samurai, which film was your favorite? Least favorite?

Nathaniel: Going into these films, all I knew about Kurosawa was that he was something of a legendary director. I had incredibly high expectations of innovation and novelty, and because The Hidden Fortress met those expectations, the bar was set very high for the movies that followed, which is part of why Fortress remains my favorite. I'm also a sucker for comedy, so the humor didn't hurt.

As I watched more of Kurosawa's films, I came to realize that my expectations were not necessarily unreasonable, but rather that they were not founded on a proper understanding of movie history and international cinema. After Fortress' impressive visuals and unique action sequences and and incredibly natural-sounding dialogue that blew away most of the other movies I've seen from the time period, I expected Ran would be equally revolutionary.

I'll be honest; I was disappointed. Consequently, Ran is easily my least favorite of the bunch, though much of that also has to do with the fact that it's very much a war movie, which just isn't my bag. In retrospect, my disappointment with Ran is something akin to being disappointed by a rectangular Christmas gift that you expected to be a mint-condition Daredevil #1 that is actually an autographed photo of Richard Dean Anderson when you're not a fan of Stargate or McGyver.

Alex: For reasons mentioned above, Seven Samurai was my favorite, followed by Rashomon. Rashomon was up there because of how unique the film was, and considering the fact that one character performed a seance in the film (in the 1950s!), I really admired the chances Kurosawa took.

My least favorite would probably be Ran, which, I know, is heresy. I don't know what it was about that film, but I zoned in and out, and Nathaniel and I ended up talking about a bunch of things as the movie was playing.

I wonder if we had saved Ran for later on, if I would have enjoyed it more?

What do you think of Kurosawa as a director?

Alex: I think he's a filmmaker who takes great care in setting up the intracacies of his films. Often, the first third of a Kurosawa film is devoted to exposition and set up. Still, he manages to pack in tons of story and action.

It's obvious that Kurosawa has an amazing eye for action sequences, and he is clearly an unmatched judge of talent. His actors all deliver exceptional performances, and that's a credit to the director, especially when it comes to films that are the size and scope of Ran and Seven Samurai.

And in the "smallest" film we watched, Rashomon, the acting is brillaint, and the whole film is shot so uniquely that it is just this memorable experience for the viewer. The story stayed with me after it was over, and that's really the best praise for a director.

Nathaniel: Up until watching Kurosawa's films, I never really paid much attention to who the director was. As was once the case with comics, where the writer and artist took a backseat to the fact that it's a Batman story!!!, I was interested in movies because of their premise and/or their cast, but never because of the director.

Kurosawa has shown me just how much of an impact the director has on the film; most of the movies we've watched might have bored me to tears in the hands of a less-capable director, but Kurosawa's attention to detail, finesse with cinematography, and ability to tell a powerful story on both a large and small scale is all truly impressive.

Jeez, I was in theater for over seven years; you'd'a thought I'd'a figured this out sooner.

Of course, I can't give Kurosawa all the credit for starting to pay attention to the director; Mikey Bay is pretty hard to ignore.

How worthwhile was it to explore this fandom?

Nathaniel: As a fan of Japanese culture, Kurosawa's films have helped to give me a greater appreciation for a country I already appreciate, and on top of that, the films were pretty entertaining. As a budding movie buff, these films were a valuable next step my self-education, and they've piqued my interest once again in foreign films. Also, they got me out of going on a ghost hunt, so there's that.

Either way, I think it's safe to say that you'll see more reviews of Kurosawa films in the future.

Alex: I think I went into this experiment in the exact right way. I knew next to nothing about Kurosawa and his films, other than the fact that he was mentioned in a song by the Barenaked Ladies in the late nineties.

Actually, I thought we were going to be watching kung fu movies. Yeah, I'm not that bright.

So sitting down and watching these things was a completely new and different experience for me, with very little in the way of expectations. Other than a few reccomendations for a couple of the films, I honestly had no idea what to expect.

In the end, I'm really glad you all voted on this fandom because I enjoyed the films, and I am very happy to have added them to my geek cred.

Though, I still think it would be priceless if we could all get Nathaniel to go on a ghost hunt...

Exfanding Review: Rashomon

This past Thursday, Nathaniel and I continued the plunge into our brand-new fandom: the films of Akira Kurosawa. For our fourth foray into the work of the internationally famous Japanese filmmaker, we watched Rashomon, which was the shortest--and strangest--of the films we've seen so far.

What was Rashomon about?

Alex: It was about 88 minutes. Ha!

*Ahem*

Right. Well. Actually, the plot of Rashomon is quite complex and layered, and its themes are, simply stated, haunting. There is a murder and a rape somewhere deep in the woods, and four people (including those involved in the incidents) testify in court as witnesses to the crimes.

However, each of the four witnesses has a different version of what actually happened. Through flashback sequences, each narrated by one of the witnesses, the viewer is exposed to four possible "truths" concerning the events that took place. We never see exactly what happened, we only learn of the events through the narration of the witnesses.

An interesting side note that I came across on Wikipedia--today, when witnesses give different accounts of the same event, this is sometimes referred to as the Rashomon effect, named for Kurosawa's film.


Nathaniel: I'll add my own interesting side note as well: This is, ironically, the least explicit Kurosawa film we've seen yet. Not that the other films have been especially graphic or profane (save for two or three short scenes), but Rashomon really downplays the worst of it.


Describe Rashomon in three adjectives or fewer.

Alex: Which one is an adjective again?

[We pause momentarily to load Wikipedia...]

Annnd...oh. According to Wiki: "In grammar, an adjective is a word whose main syntactic role is to modify a noun or pronoun, giving more information about the noun or pronoun's referent."

Well, then. That clears things up nicely. Lessee...three adjectives...um...oh!

No, wait. "Haunting" is a verb.

Ummm....How 'bout "provocative," "shadowy," and "unreliable"?

Nathaniel: If "unreliable" is referring to the DVD, then Alex must be confusing this movie with the last one we watched. My adjectives? "Unsettling," "engaging," and "deep."


Rashomon is much shorter than the other Kurosawa films we've seen; please discuss.

Alex: Well, the other films we've seen were truly epic in nature, and so they needed a much larger (literal) canvas of lots and lots of film. Rashomon is a character piece, and as such, the story is told on a much smaller scale, so the running time seems appropriate.

Nathaniel: What he said.


What was the most striking scene/aspect/performance in Rashomon, and why was it so striking?

Alex: As I mentioned above, this film was very much a character study, with a small cast and constant, tight close-ups of each main character. I feel like, of all the Kurosawa films we've seen, the actors in Rashomon needed the most "chops."

I mean, the camera was literally zoomed in on the witnesses' faces in scenes of either great sadness, great madness, or intense, seething hatred. These are all emotions that can come across as being ham-fisted--especially when the camera pulls in so tight--but the actors in Rashomon were exceptional.

Nathaniel: For me, it's the opening scene: A half-dilapidated temple (or gate, or something impressive) stands alone in the midst of a colossal downpour, and a few men are taking shelter there from the rain. The visuals captured my attention right away; literally half the temple is in good condition, while the other half is in serious disrepair, as though the men had been taking shelter from the unstoppable rain for weeks and needed to selectively break off boards and beams to use for firewood. I can't think of any other movie from the '50s where the setting was so rich and textured.


What kind of an impact did the music have on the film?

Nathaniel: For a movie that involves murder, rape, and a scene where someone channels the spirit of the murdered man, the music is unusually upbeat, almost inappropriately so. Alright, so it's not like there was a happy calliope and a plucky banjo and a winsome kazoo, but if you heard the movie's soundtrack out of context, you probably wouldn't guess it belonged in a movie with such serious themes.

That being said, the music helped to soften the strong emotional impact of the movie. I don't believe the purpose of the movie was to make its viewers depressed, which is why I didn't mind the strangely upbeat music; I never got hit so hard by the bad stuff that I was unable to appreciate the concept, the twists, and the acting.

Alex: At one point, I turned to Nathaniel and mentioned that the movie would play much creepier if there was no music. And, by "creepier," I mean flat out, Michael-Myers-Standing-Still-In-the-Bushes-Outside-of-Laurie-Strode's-House creepy.

So, even though the music, for me at least, sometimes brought too much levity to an otherwise intense scene, I guess without the music, the film would have been too dark; too unrelenting.


How does this movie compare to the other three films we've watched--The Hidden Fortress, Ran, and Yojimbo?

Nathaniel: Though a few elements reminded me a bit of Fortress, the film is almost entirely different from the rest. There's much less exposition, no large-scale battles, no long journeys through the countryside, no political intrigue, and a very small number of characters.

Despite the costumes and the fact that people fight with swords instead of guns, the film could almost take place almost anywhere in almost any time period--it was as though Rashomon was Kurosawa's interpretation of a stage play, whereas the other films we've watched felt distinctly like sweeping epics that wouldn't have worked in any other format.

Alex: Well, frankly, I have to say that the film honestly took me (and I'd say Nathaniel, too) by surprise. Knowing nothing about the movie before popping it in the DVD player, I was struck with how...unconventional...the film was.

From the way the movie was shot with its extreme close-ups, to the maniacal performance delivered by Mifune, to the mature themes presented, it was just not what I was expecting. There was a samurai, sure, and a sword fight, but even that was unconventional and, frankly, odd, in the way it was filmed.

During the last sword fight in the film, Nathaniel mentioned that it played out as though the actors were ad-libbing the direction of the fight. It was so different that it just didn't look choreographed.

Now, I'm going to say something here that will probably leave some Kurosawa fans scratching their heads in unison. Rashomon was my favorite of the movies we've watched thus far, and I realize that there's not nearly as much action, and the film is nowhere close to the same size scale as Ran, but I just found myself way more vested in these characters than I was in the characters that inhabited the other flicks.

I think a lot of the reason why has to do with the fact that the film is shot on such an intimate scale, and there are only between one and three characters in every scene.


Talk a bit more about the acting, if you would.

Nathaniel: So a husband and wife and a bandit walk into a Japanese movie. The husband left no significant lasting impression on me, which I think was the point--it's not really spoiling anything to say that he's the one who gets murdered, so I saw him as more of a catalyst for the interactions between the wife and the bandit; as such, he filled his role quite nicely. Both the bandit and the wife displayed a wide range of acting ability, sometimes shifting between dispositions in an instant; very well done.

In fact, the bandit was played by the legendary Toshiro Mifune, who played a leading role in the other Kurosawa films we've seen. In our review of Yojimbo, Alex joked that he could probably play Mifune's characters--"brooding, scowling, arms always crossed," but this film allowed him (Mifune, not Alex) to exhibit all sorts of emotions and behavior that just weren't called for in the other films. From the major characters to the minor ones, the performances were spot-on.

Alex: Like I said, this was a film with exceptional acting. This type of film needed perfect performances, and I think everyone involved gave just that. Even though some have criticized Mifune's part as being over-the-top in his manic delivery, I think it's exactly what the film called for.


Which of the four versions of "truth" are you most inclined to believe?

Alex: None of them. I think they each included lies--and, if not lies, then mistruths--and the audience cannot take anything in this film at face value.

Nathaniel: Aw, really? I was really hoping the version where the husband and the bandit have a duel to the death to determine who would take the wife home--because the wife requested it, no less--would be the real truth. Somehow that version seemed the most plausible to me, and it was an interesting story in that there wasn't really a villain--in the end, there were no sinister motives responsible for the husband's death; it was all about honor.


Were you satisfied by the ending?

Nathaniel: Yes, although the part where a baby mystically spawned in the temple confused me a little. Maybe the baby knows the truth, and we just don't know how to translate its cries.

Alex: Yes, because of my reasoning in the previous answer. Just like a judge or jury who comes to the "action" in the courtroom, after the events have already transpired, Kurosawa puts his audience in a role of not knowing.

Even when a jury convicts someone in a "slam dunk" case, ripe with evidence and insurmountable proof, that jury still wasn't at the crime scene when the crime happened. Unlike other films and TV shows, Rashomon never allows us to see what really happened.

All we get are the testimonies of the witnesses, and that's the real beauty of this film. If, let's say, the ending was a flashback to the woods where we see exactly what went down, the entire effect of the movie would be lost.


And, finally, was watching this film better than reading the best of H.P. Lovecraft?

Alex: Whereas the characters in Rashomon went mad, I was--at no time during the watching of the film--in danger of going mad myself. Reading Lovecraft, however...

Nathaniel: That depends. Will Cthulhu eat me if I say ye--GRAAAAH!!! OM NOM NOM!!! SLUUUURP!!!

Exfanding Review: Yojimbo

This past Wednesday, Nathaniel and I continued the plunge into our brand-new fandom: the films of Akira Kurosawa. For our third foray into the work of the internationally famous Japanese filmmaker, we watched Yojimbo, which was an influence on the classic Sergio Leone/Clint Eastwood "Man with No Name" Westerns.

Yojimbo, eh? Tell me about Yojimbo.

Nathaniel: Oh, look at the time! I'm sure Alex can tell everybody about Yojimbo.

Alex: I can tell you a great many things, actually. A great many things. Like, Yojimbo tells the story of a ronin named Sanjuro who wanders into a small town filled with men of ill repute.

And, throughout the film, Sanjuro plays each of the town's crime lords, not only getting them all to hire him for protection, but to eventually pit each man against another, leading to the wholesale destruction of the town.

So, it's kinda like Thanksgiving dinner for most of us.


What parts or aspects of the film really stood out to you?

Alex: Well, first off, we had previously viewed Ran, which was shot in color and was this huge, sprawling epic of a movie, filled with battles and hundreds of extras. And Yojimbo is certainly not that. It's a much smaller movie, with very little "movement," and few main players.

It's a small story, told on a pretty small scale, which surprised me a bit considering the other films we watched.

Nathaniel: The opening credits sequence really struck me--the first few minutes of the movie consist of a continuous close-up shot of the back of the main character's head, and then a close-up of his legs and feet. And he's just... walking. It was like watching The Hidden Fortress all over again, but on a much smaller scale. This should have been boring as all get-out, but the acting was so nuanced; I really got a feel for who this character was just by watching the back of his head, which must be the mark of a good actor.

The other thing that stood out was how Sanjuro only removed his arms when he needed to use them.

Hang on; let me rephrase that sentence. Sanjuro kept his arms folded inside his clothes most of the time, and he'd only ever wiggle an arm back through the sleeve if he needed to open a door or cut someone in half.

Oh, that's the other thing I noticed: while there were a few severed body parts, the violence in this movie felt a little less authentic than in Fortress and Ran--to give you an indication, I recall a moment where someone was getting beaten by the sharp side of a pointy sword, and only after several thwackings did he succumb to his beating-by-sword and fall to the ground. It wasn't cheesy violence, but the sharp objects in Fortress and Ran, which came before and after Yojimbo, respectively, were more convincing as deadly weapons.

Speaking of deadly weapons, there's one guy with a gun--the only gun in the movie--who felt a little out of place because he had the only gun in the movie, he reminded me vaguely of a clown, and his outfit somehow looked more like it belonged in the time period when the movie was made than the time period in which the movie was supposed to take place. This was surely intentional and I must be an uncultured yokel not to realize the artistic value here, but I call it like I see it.


What did you think about the music?

Alex: Sometimes it worked, sometimes it...um...didn't. Overall, though, it really didn't add to or detract from my viewing experience.

Nathaniel: Although by now I can't call to mind a single melody from the movie, I distinctly remember stating that the music sounded as though there was a nice orchestra playing with a single eight-year-old child running amok and playing with instruments here and there. Sometimes a particularly upbeat and fairly nonstandard instrument would shine through and remind me that (a) this movie is not supposed to be overwhelmingly serious, and (b) this movie was made in the early '60s.


What about the acting? Rate it, if you would.

Alex: Sometimes I think I can play Kurosawa's main character--"brooding, scowling, arms always crossed." I think I fit that bill quite nicely, actually.

One of the things I've noticed is that, especially the smaller roles tend to be a bit over the top. Some over-acting, for sure, but the main players all deliver quality performances.

Nathaniel: It might just be that I don't speak Japanese, but I've never heard a bad Japanese actor, in live action or anime. At least as far as the dialogue goes, everybody did just fine. I had no qualms about the other aspects of the acting, though I will second Alex's observation that the bit parts are over-the-top, but no so much that it derails the show.

Gotta love how we both failed to respond to the "Rate it, if you would" part of the question we came up with ourselves.


Is there a point in Yojimbo when your interest wanes? How does this compare to the other two films?

Nathaniel: Fortress got a little slow from time to time, but the dialogue, characters, and cinematography were enough to keep me engaged; Ran was difficult to sit through because of its sprawling exposition, lack of movement, and subject matter (war, political intrigue, and other things that aren't my bag).

Yojimbo arguably had the best pacing of the three we've seen, but despite its numerous action sequences and creative twists, I found that I wasn't fully invested in the characters one way or another, so my attention waned when the movie focused more on the characters than the action and plot twists.

Alex: I think I might have checked out of this film earlier than I would have liked. Maybe because it was relatively short, maybe because there was a ton of exposition in the first ten or fifteen minutes. Either way, I didn't really get into the movie until pretty close to the end, and things were getting ugly in the town.

Now, to be fair, there were extenuating circumstances while trying to watch this movie that likely played into my early zone-out. My main DVD player decided that it didn't want to play this particular disc, and instead of accepting this fact and moving on, Nathaniel and I tried to "fix" the DVD player.

When that didn't work (at all), we ended up playing it on another screen, in a room with decidedly less comfortable seating. I was in my computer chair as opposed to being on the big, comfy couch, and Nathaniel was in a round wicker thing that I bought from Pier One many moons ago.

And all the snacks were downstairs, so that made me a little grumpy.


You've now seen three Kurosawa films. What do you think of him as a director? As a storyteller?

Alex: He's deliberate in his pacing. There's a lot that needs to be set up early on in his films, and instead of showing the audience, he tells them. Still, he never rushes things, which is something that I admire.

He certainly sets out with a vision, and he makes sure that he delivers the film he wants people to see. And that's something we don't get from more recent directors who bow to production companies and movie studios too often and allow the work to suffer.

Kurosawa definitely has integrity as a filmmaker, that's for sure.

Nathaniel: What he said.



How does Yojimbo compare to Ran and The Hidden Fortress?

Alex: Well, it's much shorter, for one. And it's told on much less of a scale. It's a more intimate flick, and we really get to see the political strategy (and the mindset) of the main characters.

Nathaniel: In addition to what I've already said, Yojimbo felt more American than the other two. Lots of fighting, Also, several characters--actual characters, mind you; not just extras--get killed off just because they were in the wrong place or did something to sufficiently irritate somebody else. If anybody died in Ran or Fortress, they were either inconsequential or so pivotal to the plot that their death was a big event. In Yojimbo, characters just... died.


These movies all have long running times. Could these films be released in today's film industry?

Nathaniel: After Lord of the Rings and King Kong made epic-length movies the rule, not the exception, the fact that this clocked in at barely under two hours makes me wonder if it's long enough!

Alex: There'd need to be more explosions, a nude scene, and Seth Rogen.


Would you recommend Yojimbo as a good starting point for newcomers to Kurosawa's work? How about the other two films we watched?

Alex: I think Nathaniel and I started at a good place with The Hidden Fortress. It's not usually the film at the top of fans' lists, but I think that it made sense as a way to introduce us to the work.

Nathaniel: If the newcomer in question is a big fan of Westerns or has no interest in big armies gathering on broad hilltops, then Yojimbo is a great place to start.

I suspect there needs to be a common ground between the film being watched and the interests and/or experience of the viewer; Fortress was a great place for me to start because I had heard the film had influenced Star Wars, but I could have just as easily started with Yojimbo because I'm finding more and more that I really like Westerns. Ran would not have been an ideal introduction for me because it wasn't my style of movie on a number of levels, but there are elements that would be wildly appealing to a different audience.

Honestly, any of the films we've seen so far would be good introductions to Kurosawa's work; it just depends on who the victi--erm, viewer is.


Was it better than doing a road trip to local tourist traps?

Nathaniel: I think Alex's house counts as a tourist trap--he promised we'd watch Yojimbo on a big-screen TV, but we ended up watching it on a smaller TV in his room, and I left with a $35 baseball cap that says "I didn't watch Yojimbo on a big-screen TV"--so I'd say we got the best of both worlds.

Alex: Considering that our options were limited to driving to Danbury to go see a lawn somewhere with a tilted rock balancing on two other rocks...yes.

Yes, it was.

Exfanding Review: Ran

This past Wednesday, Nathaniel and I continued the plunge into our brand-new fandom: the films of Akira Kurosawa. For our second foray into the work of the internationally famous Japanese filmmaker, we watched Ran, which came heavily recommended by several friends.


"Ran" isn't a very descriptive title for American audiences. What is the movie about?

Alex: Well, after watching The Hidden Fortress, what with all of its walking around and falling down hills, going into this one I thought, well, okay, so maybe at least they'll be walking faster.

[Pause for drum roll and audience laughter.]

Seriously, though, folks, I think it might actually be easier to tell you what the movie is not about, since I managed to lose the plot a couple of times along the way. Basically, there's an old clan leader, Hidetora, who has three sons. In a dream, the warlord recieves a vision that leads him to step down from his position of power. This shocks his three sons, Taro, Jiro, and Saburo, and the rest of the Ichimonji clan.

The warlord gives his seat to his eldest son, Taro, and banishes Saburo after he argues his father's decision. From there, things get very ugly. Taro's wife, Lady Kaede, immediately pushes the once-obidient son to force his father into a submissive role in the new clan structure. Hidetora, of course, finds this to be insulting, and while he signs a contract pledging his loyalty to Taro, the former leader promises never to visit his eldest son again.

Hidetora seeks refuge with his middle son, Jiro, but finds him to want nothing more than power of his own. Jiro plans to use his father to become more powerful. Hidetora recognizes this, and leaves. When he and his men venture across the countryside, they find that Taro and Jiro have cut off all supllies.

With no other course of action, Hidetora leads his men to the abandonded castle of his banished son, Saburo. Shortly after their arrival, Taro's army and Jiro's army meet at the castle and a massive, bloody battle ensues. *SPOILERS* Taro is killed early on, and Hidetora is left to commit ritualistic suicide.

However, because his sword breaks while fending off the advances of Taro and Jiro's men, he cannot do this. Instead, he walks from the grounds of the castle--into the wilderness, and into madness.

The remainder of the film deals with the former leader's growing madness, and the power struggle between the now-broken clans of the three sons.

Nathaniel: What he said. Isn't the movie supposed to be a retelling of Shakespeare's King Lear? That's what the back of the DVD case said, and the box is never wrong.


Were you confused at any point in the movie, or did it all make sense?

Nathaniel: I do really well with convoluted science fiction plots, but as soon as I watch a movie where swords are involved, somehow things just stop making sense. Maybe it's because the people who carry swords are usually wrapped up in political intrigue and complicated family matters. I understood what was going on with Hidetora and his three sons, but as soon as blind men and concubines and people with suspiciously American-sounding names like "Sue" got involved, I started to lose track of them all.

Alex: I wasn't 100% sure who Sue was, and even though she was barely ever on-screen, she played a major role in the plot development. So, that made things a little tricky for a bit. Overall, though, I think I got the gist of things.


On a strictly visual level, what did you think of the film?

Alex: While this film was epic in nature, in a lot of ways, Kurosawa filmed this on a smaller scale than I expected after viewing The Hidden Fortress. What I mean is, there are many more intimate character close-ups throughout this film than there were in Fortress, and that adds a whole new element to the film.

That said, things opened up during the first and last battle scenes. But, Kurosawa made the (effective and powerful) choice to focus in on certain aspects of each battle. So, the scenes alternated from grand scale to small, intimate scale. And I think that worked quite well.

Also, the excessive blood during the battles was used symbollically, of course, but as big, red splashes tend to be, the blood was visually striking and interesting. It reminded me a lot of Frank Miller's 300 film, actually, in the artful and un-real depictions of blood. Very effective, though.

Nathaniel: Yeah, they decapitated someone at one point, and as they did so the camera cut away to the peoples' shadows on the wall, which were suddenly covered in about 17 gallons of blood, as though the dead person had just exploded. I'm not at all into gore, but that was a very neat, albeit gross-tastic, effect.

The first thing that struck me about the film was that it was so colorful. Not just, "Hey, it's 1985 and we can make films in color now" kind of colorful; all the major characters had very distinctive and brightly colored wardrobes, and I actually referred to the brothers as "Brother Blue" and "The yellow brother" more often than not. The colors blended quite artistically in the battle scenes, but even on the simplest level, it was much easier to identify who was who because everyone was color-coded for your convenience.

Like Alex, I was expecting more wide-open camera shots; I much prefer sweeping landscapes and gorgeous architecture over people and costumes. However, even though I missed the camera work of The Hidden Fortress, there were a few really neat shots, and I can see where people who really appreciate costumes and close-up shots would like this style better.


How does Ran compare to The Hidden Fortress?

Alex: Well, there's not as much walking in Ran as there was in Fortress.

Nathaniel: No, but there was a lot more running and charging. Actually, Ran didn't surprise me as much as Fortress did. Whereas Fortress did a lot of surprising things with stunts and dialogue and camera work that seemed so unique for its time, Ran rarely caught me off-guard. Of course, that could be because I don't watch many epic/war movies and just assumed that everything that happened was pretty normal.


How does Ran compare with American films in the same or similar genre?

Nathaniel: Jeez, Question Man, weren't you paying attention just now? I don't watch many epic/war movies. Go ask Alex.

Alex: I actually commented on the fact that the film just looked more American than I would have imagined. And I don't know if it's a matter of American films ripping off Kurosawa, or if the director was becoming more influenced by American films.

Either way, I thought it had a more Western cinema feel to it.


This movie came highly recommended from a whole group of people. Did it live up to your expectations?

Alex: I think that I've managed to build these movies up so much in my head that nothing could meet my expectations. The battle scenes were amazing, and I guess I just figured that the entire movie would be a battle scene.

Also, the length of the film--almost three hours--really took its toll on me.

Nathaniel: Ran was what I was expecting from a movie of the genre (in that there were huge battles and lots of exposition), but it wasn't what I was expecting from a Kurosawa film after having seen Fortress.

As I mentioned before, Fortress did things that were surprising and impressive to me considering when the film was made; for the most part, Ran didn't instill that sense of awe in me, perhaps because the impressive stuff was a lot more subtle. The aspects of the film that have received such great praise are certainly deserving of it, but I personally don't have the same appreciation for those aspects as others seem to.


What was your favorite scene?

Alex: This one's easy. That first battle was just epic and bloody and incredible to look at. Music played over the scene, and the viewer doesn't hear the actual battle. Very striking.

Nathaniel: Ditto, except what sticks out in my mind is how Hidetora sat in stillness as arrows sped past him in a room that was on fire. I liked how the old ruler was so completely detached from everything for so much of the movie; it was always interesting to guess whether he was alive or dead, in shock or insane. Also, it was visually striking how the brother in yellow unexpectedly got shot in the back with an arrow that landed dead-center in the emblem of the sun on his outfit. Poetic.

See? There are parts of the movie I liked! Fortress is just more my style, that's all.


What was your least favorite element of the film? (Direction of a certain scene, particular actor, etc.)

Nathaniel: The pacing of the movie felt slow to me; many of the scenes were quite long, and there wasn't a lot of motion in some of those scenes, which didn't help.

Alex: Um, I guess I'd have to say the length of the movie. I'm just a modern film kinda guy, and anything over that two hour mark becomes tedious for me.

Unless it's The Dark Knight, of course.


Fanpeople of what genre/fandom (other than Japanese film fans, obviously) might be most interested in this film?

Alex: Fans of Frank Miller's early work, with all of its Japanese-inspired art and story. 300, Ronin, his Wolverine mini-series, even a lot of his Daredevil and Elektra stuff, too.

Nathaniel: Is The Lord of the Rings an okay answer? I mean, Ran is a sweeping epic with lots of characters, a thick plot, and a lot of build-up to the action. Plus, there are talking trees. In Lord of the Rings, I mean.


Was it better than going on a ghost hunt?

Alex: Depends. Would there have been more action scenes during the ghost hunt?

Nathaniel: Wait, that was one of the options? Whoa, that was a close one.

Exfanding Review: The Hidden Fortress

Alex and I have taken the plunge into a new fandom: the films of Akira Kurosawa. To begin our foray into the work of the internationally famous Japanese filmmaker, we watched The Hidden Fortress, which has been cited as a source of inspiration for Star Wars.

Briefly, what is the premise of The Hidden Fortress?

Alex: Ah, yes, since I'm so good at recapping things, it would only make sense that I get to answer this one. Well, let's see. There's a lot of walking around, and a lot of yelling being done by a princess, and in-between all the walking and princess-yelling there is an amazing sword fight that takes place on horseback. And there's also a pretty hardcore spear fight that goes on for several minutes.

How's that?

More plot, you say? Fine.

So, there's these two guys, Tahei and Matashichi, and when the movie opens they are in the middle of escaping from a big battle. As they wander along, they come in contact with General Rokurota Makabe, who is working for the princess of a defeated nation. The General, who is famed throughout the land, is attempting to move the princess, and the nation's supply of gold, to safety through enemy territory without being seen.

All the while, Tahei and Matashichi act as comic relief and do everything in their power to halt progress.


Nathaniel: What he said.


Being a newbie to his films, what expectations did you have coming into the movie?

Nathaniel: In general, I expected Kurosawa's films to be serious, pretty realistic, somewhat old, and set in Japan at least a few centuries back. I assumed the dialogue would be Polish with Esperanto subtitles, but I guess we can't all be The Amazing Kreskin.

Because I had heard that Star Wars was inspired by The Hidden Fortress, I assumed that Star Wars was, at its core, a sci-fi remake of the Kurosawa film, but with enough plot and character changes for it to not technically be a remake at all. I mean, Kurosawa wouldn't have had a tall, hairy Japanese man growling and groaning all the time, right?


Alex: What he said.

Actually, I went in expecting a lot of fighting, and a lot of incredible samurai action.


How similar/different were those expectations from reality once you watched the movie?

Nathaniel: Boy, was I off the mark. After the movie, I watched an interview with George Lucas where he talked about how Kurosawa's films, and The Hidden Fortress in particular, impacted him--and he stated that the biggest influence was how the story was told from the perspective of the two lowliest characters. The fact that there was a princess was more or less incidental, and only in the earliest drafts did Star Wars resemble The Hidden Fortress enough to mention it. I still found a decent number of parallels between Star Wars and The Hidden Fortress, but that's probably only because I was looking for them.

Alex: Well, I didn't expect all the walking, that's for sure. I mean, the sheer amount of walking in this flick would make Peter Jackson jealous.

Now, while I went into the moive expecting way more fighting, I've since been told that the more famous of Kurosawa's films have more action than Fortress, so I am definitely looking forward to that. Because the action in Fortress, though sparse, was pretty incredible, and very entertaining.


The film features a good amount of seriousness, humor, and action; how well does it all blend together?

Nathaniel: I was pleased by how smoothly the movie transitioned from one "feel" to the next. Action sequences only happened when the characters needed to fight; funny sections appeared organically from the character interactions and the situations in which they found themselves. Nothing was ever unbearably serious, but the darker parts were always handled with care and gradually increased or decreased in intensity.

Alex: There were definitely laugh-out-loud funny moments in the film, and most of those moments were provided by Tahei and Matashichi. And I think the viewer was supposed to relate to, and develop a fondness of those characters.

That never happened for me, because of the whole "sleeping princess attempted rape" scene, where Tahei and Matashichi drew straws to see who would get to be alone with her. That was creepy, and evil, and from that point on I had a hard time laughing at their bumbling idiocy.


There was a lot of walking in this film. Did it manage to keep your attention throughout?

Nathaniel: There was also a lot of climbing up hills and then rolling down them. You know how Raiders of the Lost Ark had a big action sequence every 10 or 20 minutes? This movie had a scene where the characters climbed up a hill or fell down a hill every 10 or 20 minutes. Alex and I talked through a decent amount of the movie, which helped to keep us from zoning out, but the movie on its own did a good job of holding my attention, for the most part.

Though there is a lot of walking, Kurosawa managed to keep things engaging by giving the audience some gorgeous panoramic camera shots. There was a sense of scope that made it seem as though the characters were merely a small part of a larger world, and it always felt like there was a real destination on the other side of that hill--the heroes didn't just wander through a boring desert until something interesting happened.

Alex: I agree--the panoramic nature of the cinematography was incredible. it reminded me of a John Ford film in its epic, sweeping scope.

But, yeah. There was a whole lot of walking.


Was there anything particularly unusual or surprising about this movie?

Nathaniel: I've seen a respectable amount of American movies from the 1950s, so the swearing and the blood at the beginning of the movie caught me off-guard. I was also surprised and impressed by the sheer number of people in the film; there's one scene where this huge mob of dirt-covered people in ragged clothing comes charging in against a huge mob of warriors, and I'm fairly confident that not a single one of them was computer-generated. There were soldiers and peasants galore, and it never appeared as though they had skimped on the costume, prop, or makeup budgets.

Alex: I disagree. I'm pretty sure the first ten minutes of the film were completely CGI. Other than that, the fact that the director chose to shoot in widescreen was pretty cool. It was his first movie shot in that style, and it really gave the flick a unique look.


What was your favorite Star Wars parallel in the film?

Alex: The space fights. Those surprised me. It's shocking that Lucas wasn't sued over those. Oh! And the wipe cuts--there were plenty of those PowerPoint-esque wipes and fades in Star Wars, and I think it may be safe that was done as an homage to Fortress.

Nathaniel: The tall, hairy Japanese man who growled and groaned all the time was pretty cool. Wait; he just crossed his arms. Actually, the fact that Threepio and Artoo look and behave very much like the two bickering peasants was endearing, and the shorter peasant actually beeped at one point. Honest!


Did the princess shout too much during the movie, or was that just me?

Nathaniel: "WHAT YOU MAKE OF ANOTHER'S KINDNESS IS UP TO YOU!" "ROKUROTA, I THANK YOU!" "I LIKE THAT SONG!" Yeah, she did.

Alex: But I liked how there was a difference betwen her "annoyed yelling," her "angry yelling," and her "congratulatory yelling." It was subtle, but it was there.


How well does the film hold up after all these decades?

Nathaniel: I'm sure the audio and video were cleaned up for the version we watched, but everything was crisp, clear, and surprisingly believable. There were one or two minor-yet-abrupt cuts that made things momentarily choppy, and at one point a guy is poked pretty hard with a fake sword that isn't nearly choppy enough, if you take my meaning, but otherwise I'd say The Hidden Fortress holds up quite well.

Alex: I agree. I have to say, the dialogue was very modern, and the humor was too. And, yes, I know we watched the version with English subtitles, but those subtitles read like people speak today. And that's something that's different from many other films of the 50's. People just spoke differently, and cursing was a big no-no. That's not the case with Fortress. They didn't hold back, and I found that refreshing.


Was it better than watching Battlestar Galactica?

Nathaniel: Well, it was shorter than watching a whole season of Battlestar Galactica, so I guess that counts for something. I liked it, anyhow.


Alex could not be reached for comment.