The Idiot (1951). Kameda (Masayuki Mori) is a prisoner-of-war who is returning home to Hokkaido. He suffers from epileptic dementia, having had so many seizures that he became an “idiot”. His wartime experiences (and near-death moment by firing squad) formed him into a compassionate “pure of heart” person, someone gentle as a lamb and honest who can see deep into the soul. On the train home Kameda is befriended by ruffian Akama (Toshiro Mifune) and, once back in Hokkaido, sees a picture of Taeko Nasu (Setsuko Hara). Although Akama is madly in love with her (she has been a “kept woman” since she was 14 years old), once Taeko meets Kameda they fall in love with each other, though she ultimately pushes him away. Kameda connects with distant relative Ono (Takashi Shimura) and eventually falls in love with his daughter Ayako (Yoshiko Kuga) as well. Although his pure soul affects those around him in positive ways, Kameda’s kindness leaves him open to abuse and tragedy as he tries to reintegrate into a “faithless world”.

This film is an adaptation of Dostoevsky’s novel of the same name; he was one of Kurosawa’s favorite authors. To that end, in an effort to be very faithful to the book the original cut of the film ran around four and one-half hours. Shochiku studios made him cut the film down to 166 minutes (it is the only version available to watch). As such, I felt the film was choppy and incohesive at times. It seemed that large chunks of narrative were removed which could have better explained how the story got from point A to point B. As far as the acting went, I felt Setsuko Hara was miscast. Unlike her superior performance in No Regrets for Our Youth, her acting in this film seemed somewhat unnatural. Even Mifune seemed out of place at times to me. The film has some great moments in it, including some haunting and creepy moments between Kameda and Akama (the lighting and shadows had a lot to do with the atmosphere of the scene). The film also has a few moments of humor, as in the montages showing Ayako goes back and forth between pulling close to then pushing away from Kameda during their courtship. However, overall I feel this was a big 'miss' for Kurosawa and more of a learning experience than anything else. It is one of only a few Kurosawa films I have no desire to go back and watch again. (Low-Tier)

Ikiru (1952). Takashi Shimura plays Kanji Watanabe, an aging bureaucrat who discovers he has stomach cancer (which gives him about six months to live). He is a Public Affairs sector chief, having spent nearly 30 years doing the same thing day in and day out. His life has passed him by, and as he reflects on his diagnosis and comes to terms with it, he attempts to do something that will in some way give him a sense of meaning and purpose. Remembering a citizen’s group who requested that a sewage pond in their neighborhood be converted to a park due to health risks, Kanji takes his chance to do something which will have made his life worth living.

This is, for me, one of Kurosawa’s most moving films; I cannot watch it without crying to some degree. In the first half of the film Kanji gets his diagnosis and then goes about “living life” in ways that are ultimately unsatisfactory: a writer he comes across in a bar takes him out on the town to indulge in worldly ways of living (bars, alcohol, gambling and nightclubs, dancing girls/strippers, etc.). Kanji even tries to spend time with his young female co-worker Toyo (Miki Odagiri) who herself wants to leave City Hall in order to do something more exciting. Yet none of it fulfills Kanji; the “night on the town” sequences come across as nightmarish, and the sense of discomfort on Toyo’s face as Kanji attempts to spend time with her makes the viewer feel uncomfortable and awkward, as if none of this is right. In the second half of the film Kanji dies, and Kurosawa makes us spend time at his wake with the Deputy Mayor, family members, and his co-workers as they all remember his life, puzzling over the many questions they have concerning how he spent his last days. It is here that the film carries its deepest and most profound emotional impact, especially when the attitudes, drunkenness and selfishness of the attendees are sharply contrasted with the reactions of those who come to the wake (the citizen’s group and a police officer) whose lives Kanji has deeply touched. Using flashbacks as memories to fill in the gaps, Kurosawa structured Ikiru in a way that maximizes the emotional investment of the viewer, and it is a beautiful film to watch.

Ikiru is an existentialist drama which also contains a sharp critique of the heartlessness and hollowness of bureaucracy. For me, the older I get the more connected I feel to it. Questions on the meaning of life and what we do with our own lives are timeless – and Kanji’s decision to take on the project of helping a community get a park built for the betterment of its life (and for the fulfillment of his own life) is not only touching but inspiring in its sentiment. This film is likely best known for the scenes of Kanji swinging on a swing set in the park while singing “Life is Brief” in the snow – it is one of the great cinematic moments in a Kurosawa film. Although I love the beauty of that scene, the one that moved me most this time around took place at the wake when the citizen’s group arrived to pay their respects. The sounds of the group’s sobbing is all we hear, and it speaks volumes in contrast to the empty and selfish talk that occurred during most of the wake among the invited attendees. Kudos to Takashi Shimura for a magnificent performance as Kanji as well. Ikiru is an outstanding achievement that continues to inspire. (Legendary)

Seven Samurai (1954). A small farming village is terrorized by bandits during Japan’s civil war era. The villagers, on the guidance of their village elder, go into town to hire a samurai to help them defend their homes and their barley harvest. They find Kambei (Takashi Shimura), an older (and wider) samurai who takes up their cause. Kambei then recruits five other samurai and one would-be samurai named Kikuchiyo (Toshiro Mifune) to help the villagers defend themselves against the bandit hoard. This was one of the first films I saw in college when I took an Introduction to Cinema class, and to this day I remember sitting in class watching it with awe. I was completely taken in by the story, the characters, the music, the visuals, the action, and the fluidity of this epic. This was one of the first Japanese films I had ever seen outside of a Godzilla film (in the same class I was also lucky enough to see Ozu’s A Story of Floating Weeds), and it left a lasting impression. To this day I feel the same sense of satisfaction and contentment I felt after seeing the film in college.

For me, I think there are many reasons why this film continues to be so enjoyable to watch and digest. First (and most importantly), there are the characters – this movie is so well-acted and so well-written. Each samurai has his own personality, and each actor contributes something to the whole that makes the group stronger than its individual members. I love that the story takes its time and allows us the opportunity to get to know each samurai to some extent and to care about all of them to some degree. The same can be said with respect to some of the farmers in the village as well. The subplots and twists in the story add depth to the drama; it is a movie that slowly unfolds and builds to an epic, climactic battle in the rain, followed by a coda that has both positive and tragic dimensions to it. Fumio Hayasaka’s score captures the spirit and character of the film with memorable themes. That Seven Samurai runs 207 minutes long without getting boring is a testament to everyone involved with the film, especially Kurosawa himself. He managed to create what I consider to be a filmic novel – it is lyrical, poetic, moving, exciting, and wildly satisfying. The term ‘masterpiece’ never had a better representative. (Legendary)

The Criterion 4K version of the film is amazing, BTW.

What are your thoughts on the upcoming Spike Lee/Denzel Washington remake of High & Low...?

Monterey Jack wrote: ↑Tue May 06, 2025 9:18 pm What are your thoughts on the upcoming Spike Lee/Denzel Washington remake of High & Low...?

I did not know that was an upcoming project in the works! Gut reaction is that it is going to suck compared to the original...lol...

mkaroly wrote: ↑Wed May 07, 2025 4:36 am I did not know that was an upcoming project in the works! Gut reaction is that it is going to suck compared to the original...lol...

Highest 2 Lowest.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Highest_2_Lowest

Monterey Jack wrote: ↑Wed May 07, 2025 11:14 am

mkaroly wrote: ↑Wed May 07, 2025 4:36 am I did not know that was an upcoming project in the works! Gut reaction is that it is going to suck compared to the original...lol...

Highest 2 Lowest.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Highest_2_Lowest

Maybe it will be good; I confess I am not a fan of Spike Lee's work so I would likely not care for this film either.

I Live in Fear (1955). Dr. Harada (Takashi Shimura) is a dentist who also serves as mediator for Domestic Relations court. He is called in to help arbitrate a case in which the immediate family members of its aging patriarch Kiichi Nakajima (Toshiro Mifune) desire the court to find him mentally unfit. Nakajima is a successful businessman who runs a foundry; however, he is so terrified of another nuclear attack that he wants to move his entire family (including his mistresses and their children by him) to South America. In order to accomplish his goal Nakajima is using up the family fortune which adds to the stress the immediate family (and heirs) feels, especially since no one wants to go with him and leave their homes behind. As the court wrestles with its decision, Dr. Harada begins to sympathize with Nakajima’s position and wonders whether or not Nakajima is being so unreasonable after all.

Also known as Record of a Living Being, I Live in Fear was not a successful film when it was released. At the time (circa 1954 to 1955) I guess there was radioactive rain falling in countries around Japan and within Japan itself, and the Bikini experiments had been going on. I suppose this film hit too close to home. In playing an elderly patriarch, I think Mifune did a decent job. He was heavily made-up, but one of his strengths as an actor was finding ‘mannerisms’ or ‘tics’ that helped define the characters he was playing – he did as much in this film with the character of Nakajima and I felt he was convincing. The film is a tragedy (with perhaps a silver lining) and heavy with very little humor – as I watched it, I felt my emotions sway between Nakajima, his families, the court, and Harada. The film really makes you feel Nakajima’s heightened anxiety and sense of desperation, the family’s frustration and confusion, and Harada’s sympathy. Ultimately, I feel like the Nakajima character represents the internal scar on Japan’s collective psyche from the atomic bomb drops (a theme Kurosawa would revisit in Rhapsody in August). Kurosawa had a difficult time making this film because his friend and film score composer Fumio Hayasaka was sick and ended up dying from tuberculosis. As such, maybe the subject matter even hit too close to home for Kurosawa himself. This is not an easy film to watch based on the subject matter, yet I feel it leaves a strong impression. (Upper Mid-Tier)

Throne of Blood (1957). In feudal Japan, Lord Tsuzuki of Spider’s Web Castle (Takamaru Sasaki) finds his fortresses under attack by a rival. His generals Miki (Minoru Chiaki) and Washizu (Toshiro Mifune) manage to turn the tides of battle and successfully turn back the enemy attacker. On their way back to the castle, Miki and Washizu encounter a witch in Spider’s Web Forest (Chieko Naniwa) who prophesizes that both will be promoted; furthermore, Washizu will become lord of the castle and then Miki’s offspring will eventually become lord after him. The two return to their lord who promotes them according to the witch’s prophecy. Once situated and content in their new positions, Washizu’s wife Asaji (Isuzu Yamada) sows seeds of doubt in her husband’s mind as to his lord’s real intentions and manipulates him into treacherously murdering Tsuzuki and becoming lord himself. Thus begins a chain of events that lead not only to madness for both Washizu and Asaji but the eventual end of Spider’s Web Castle.

Kurosawa’s film is a very entertaining retelling of Shakespeare’s MacBeth using elements of Noh theater to great dramatic effect. For me, this film is mesmerizing and haunting, beautiful and disturbing. I know next to nothing about Noh drama and the art of Noh performance, but I nonetheless find it captivating and fascinating to watch! The costumes and facial makeup, art style, the score from Masaru Sato, the environments, and the acting all work synergistically to make this adaptation of Shakespeare one of the more unique and (arguably) best out there. There are so many memorable moments in the film: the film’s introduction to the story with narration (bookended at the film’s conclusion), the creepy witch in the forest sequences, Lady Asaji walking out from a darkened doorway with the drugged sake, Lady Asaji’s inability to wash the blood of treachery off her hands, and (although a bit over the top) Washizu’s final descent into madness all make this a compelling, artistic spectacle. Unlike Orson Welles’ MacBeth which I feel focused more on the character of MacBeth, I feel like Kurosawa focused more on the larger story and its themes. All in all I feel like Throne of Blood is a very strong adaptation of Shakespeare’s work and a magnificent film. (Legendary)

The Lower Depths (1957) – Based on Maxim Gorky’s 1902 play, this film takes place during Japan’s Edo period. At the bottom of a garbage pit there is a tenement of poor people who live together under the oppressive thumb of landlord Rokubei (Nakamura Ganjiro II) and his wife Osugi (Isuzu Yamada). The inhabitants include an actor, a craftsman, a gambler, a wrestler, a prostitute, an ex-samurai, and a few others. Their de facto leader is Sutekichi (Toshiro Mifune), a thief who at one time was having an affair with Osugi but who now has his eye on her sister Okayo (Kyoko Kagawa). One day a elderly Buddhist pilgrim named Kahei comes to stay with them for a while (Bokuzen Hidari), encouraging them to have hope in the midst of suffering because rewards in the afterlife are coming. Kahei (who is kindly and gentle yet mysterious and suspicious) is contrasted with Yoshisaburo, the gambler among them (Koji Mitsui), who is more practical and focused on the present in believing that it is better to seek pleasure during life.

Despite the heavier subject matter, I enjoyed this film. Kurosawa could have very easily turned this film into a deeply dour and uncomfortable viewing experience about suffering, the meaninglessness of existence (for some), fate and hopelessness, etc.; instead, he infused his film with comedic moments and character complexity that made it interesting to watch as well as thought-provoking, even in its most tragic moments. The film takes place on one set, and I felt Kurosawa did a great job making the viewer feel like they are part of the tenement community. His framing really stands out as masterful, and the actors skillfully move in and out of the frame keeping things symmetrical and balanced. It was also easy to like the destitute tenants and share in their commiseration as they struggled and dealt with their situations, which is a tribute to how well the acting is in the film. To me The Lower Depths is not one of Kurosawa’s best films, but I feel it is definitely better than average in his canon. (Upper Mid-Tier)

The Hidden Fortress (1958). Matashichi (Kamatari Fujiwara) and Tahei (Minoru Chiaki) are two lowly and cowardly peasants who are looking to profit from a war that has erupted between the Yamana and Akizuki clans. They lose everything and are forced into labor by the winning side, the Yamana clan. After escaping the clutches of their captors, a dejected Matashichi and Tahei try to make their way home into Hayakawa only to find gold hidden in some pieces of wood. Thinking they have come upon their fortune at last, the two search for more wood with gold in it and happen upon Rokurota Makabe (Toshiro Mifune), a famous Akizuki clan general who is protecting the clan’s two most valuable assets, the 16 year-old Princess Yuki (Misa Uehara) and a hoard of gold which will be used to rebuild the clan. After hearing the peasants’ plan to get past the Yamana blockades into Hayakawa (which entails crossing over into Yamana territory), Makabe enlists their aid to help him and the Princess (who pretends to be mute) do the same, counting on their lust for gold to keep them reliable.

Simply put, this is a wildly entertaining film and, in my opinion, the closest imitation of a Western that Kurosawa had done up to this point. There are so many things I like about it – it was the first film Kurosawa directed using the widescreen format (Toho Scope), and he made the most of it (I swear, the more films of his I see the more I believe Kurosawa was just a “natural”). It is just a magnificent film to watch, soaking in the scenery and its epic-ness as well as appreciating the artistic vision that went into making it. The acting is top notch, and Uehara’s presence on screen is just as commanding and charismatic as Mifune’s. The film is filled with rousing action sequences (for example, the labor camp mob stampede down the steps of an incinerated Castle Akizuki and General Makabe’s horseback pursuit of Yamana clan scouts [climaxing in an eventual spear duel with Hyoe Tadokoro, played by Susumu Fujita]), has several moments of comic relief, builds tension effectively and flows really well. The Hidden Fortress is pure entertainment from start to finish, like a Saturday matinee action movie but done with the highest level of technical prowess, skill, and artistic vision. It is a feel-good movie that will leave a smile on your face. (Top Tier)

The Bad Sleep Well (1960). In the midst of a massive bureaucratic corruption scandal, Koichi Nishi (Toshiro Mifune) marries Yoshiko (Kyoko Kagawa), the daughter of the Vice President of Public Corporation (a government funded entity). It seems that the company was involved in a major bribery kickback scheme with the Dairyu Construction Company to the tune of three billion yen (five years earlier an employee of Public Corporation named Furuya, an executive assistant, committed suicide by jumping out of a seven-story building window). At the wedding party reporters from the media witness the arrest of Public Corporation’s executive assistant Wada (Kamatari Fujiwara) who refuses to tell the authorities anything. He gets released and is urged to commit suicide, though is prevented from doing so by Nishi who, unbeknownst to anyone else, is the illegitimate son of Furuya. He enlists the aid of Wada (believed to be dead) and an old friend to expose the company’s corruption and get revenge against those bureaucrats who killed his father: Contract Officer Shirai (Ko Nishimura), Vice President Iwabuchi (Masayuki Mori), and Administrative Officer Moriyama (Takashi Shimura).

This was the first film Kurosawa made with his own newly formed film company; it is a film noir crime drama that is also an adaptation of Hamlet. Kurosawa dipped his toes in this genre in films like Drunken Angel and Stray Dog, but here he jumps fully in (though without a femme fatale character). Using widescreen to great effect in contrasting shadow and light and showing depth of field, Kurosawa’s film is compelling and absorbing. The opening sequence at the wedding reception is especially strong and serves as a prelude of sorts, expertly setting up the characters, situations, and drama that will unfold. Mifune competently plays a more reserved character whose outrage is bubbling under the surface. The biggest surprise for me in this film is how Shimura is cast as a detestable villain and how against type that is for him (at least in Kurosawa films). His meek demeanor works against him in this film, making him completely unlikeable. There are twists and turns in the plot that I feel are effective even though you may figure things out beforehand, and at times I felt Kurosawa was influenced to some degree by Hitchcock (for example, in the sequence in the office building where Furuya committed suicide). Although the film loses a bit of momentum toward the end, overall I feel it is a successful entry into the film noir genre and a movie that gets better with multiple viewings. (Upper Mid-Tier)

Yojimbo (1961). In the Edo period, a ronin named “Sanjuro” (Toshiro Mifune) wanders by chance into a small town in which two rival yakuza gangs are fighting for control of the gambling trade in the area: one led by Ushitora (Kyu Sazanka) who is aligned with sake merchant Tokuemon (Takashi Shimura), and the other by Seibei (Seizaburo Kawazu) who is aligned with silk merchant Tazaemon (Kamatari Fujiwara). Despite being told by tavern operator Gonji (Eijiro Tono) to leave the dead, corrupt town, Sanjuro decides to stay and “play” with the factions, hoping to get them to fight each other by offering his services as a bodyguard to the highest bidder. Things not only get a bit more complicated with the arrival of Ushitora’s gun-wielding younger brother Unosuke (Tatsuya Nakadai) into town, but they get downright dangerous when Sanjuro decides to reunite a poor farmer with his wife Nui (Yoko Tsukasa) who has become Tokuemon’s captive mistress because of a gambling debt.

The most Western of Kurosawa’s Westerns to date, Yojimbo also became his most popular film up to that point in his career. From start to finish this is a very satisfying film, climaxing in a suspenseful showdown in the middle of town between Sanjuro and Unosuke. Of special note is Masaru Sato’s score, whose theme for the character of Sanjuro captures his quirkiness and free spirit extremely well. The acting is, as usual, top-notch, with Mifune, Tono, Nakadai, and Daisuke Kato (who plays Inokichi) deserving special mention. Kurosawa used widescreen to great effect once again, and the story is compelling with interesting characters. To me, this film effectively built on his experiences in filming Seven Samurai and The Hidden Fortress; it is shorter than either of those other films (clocking in at 110 minutes) and just a bit tighter and more streamlined. I am not sure how a mature filmmaker gets more mature with each film he or she makes, but in Kurosawa’s case he just continued to hone his craft, amaze, and be a major influence on other filmmakers. Yojimbo is a wildly entertaining and fun film. (Legendary)

Sanjuro (1962). In this sequel to Yojimbo, Sanjuro (Toshiro Mifune) is asleep at a shrine when he is awakened by the conversation between nine young samurai who believe their clan has been corrupted. Iori (Yuzo Kayama) tells the others he believes his uncle, Lord Chamberlain Mutsuta (Yunosuke Ito), is the corrupt one. Iori reported this to Superintendent Kikui (Tatsuya Nakadai) who believed his suspicions and agreed to meet him and his allies at the shrine. Sanjuro interjects that he thinks the opposite – he believes the Superintendent to be corrupt and Mutsuta to be innocent. And despite the disbelief from the nine young samurai he is proven to be correct, for Kikui’s meeting turns out to be an ambush designed to eliminate the young men. Sanjuro rescues the nine samurai and, feeling sorry for how immature and inexperienced they are, decides to become their de facto leader as they attempt to rescue Mutsuta and expose the corrupted officials who are trying to usurp the clan.

Based on a short story called ‘Peaceful Days’ by Shugoro Yamamoto, SANJURO is both an action film and a comedy, much lighter in tone than YOJIMBO. Most of the comedic moments in the film come from the clashes between Sanjuro and the nine young samurai – Sanjuro is wiser, more patient and experienced, more reflective and strategic; the nine young samurai lack wisdom, are impatient and less experienced, more impulsive and gung-ho. Sanjuro has to keep changing plans and making things up on the fly because of the wrong-headed decisions the young samurai make – the dynamics between him and the nine young samurai are fantastic. Comedy permeates the whole film: for example, there is a captive guard (Keiju Kobayashi) who provides some laugh-out-loud moments of comic relief; Mutsuta’s wife (Takako Irie), gentle and kind and abhorring violence, encourages Sanjuro to rescue her husband without using violence (much to Sanjuro’s irritation); and the humor that comes with the bad guys’ plans getting frustrated at every turn.

In the midst of these comedic moments come some great swordplay action as Sanjuro quickly eliminates opponents and shows his deft skill. The film works toward a climactic moment that is, in my opinion, absolutely one of the best and most memorable moments in any Kurosawa film. It qualifies as one of those moments (such as the ending of the original Planet of the Apes or the Chest-burster scene from Alien) that you can only see for the first time once. In other words, while repeated viewings may increase your appreciation of the moment (its artistry, execution, and the memory of its impact on you), the fact remains that you can never see it again for the first time. I also enjoyed Masaru Sato’s score which retains Sanjuro’s theme from Yojimbo and adds a primary theme for the young samurai. And I loved that Sanjuro as a character grew in maturity and wisdom, taking the lessons he learned from his experiences with the nine young samurai before moving on. As it turns out, Kurosawa was as good with comedy as he was with drama. Sanjuro is a worthy sequel to Yojimbo and does not miss a beat. To me I would analogize it as being the ‘yang’ (light) to Yojimbo’s ‘yin’ (dark). If you have never watched either film, make some time to watch them both. (Legendary)