Dersu Uzala (1975).

Review #2080: Dersu Uzala.

Cast: 

Maxim Munzuk (Dersu Uzala), Yury Solomin (Vladimir Arsenyev), Vladimir Kremena (Turtygin), Alexander Pyatkov (Olenev), Svetlana Danilchenko (Anna), and Suimenkul Chokmorov (Chzhan Bao) Directed by Akira Kurosawa (#968 - Throne of Blood, #1385 - Seven Samurai, #1870 - Sanshiro Sugata, #2004 - Drunken Angel)

Review: 

“Few people are eccentric enough to enjoy paying a high ticket price to go to see a television movie in a movie theatre. I have digressed again, but it is difficult for a film director who is like a salmon. When the river he was born and raised in becomes polluted, he can’t climb back upstream to lay his eggs – he has trouble making his films. He ends up by complaining. One such salmon, seeing no other way, made a long journey to climb a Soviet river and give birth to some caviar. This is how my 1975 film Dersu Uzala came about. Nor do I think this is such a bad thing. But the most natural thing for a Japanese salmon to do is to lay its eggs in a Japanese river.”

I'm sure that you can understand how some stories of travel can endure in the memories of countless people who end up reading about them and thus lead to further curiosity. In 1923, a memoir titled Dersu Uzala (sometimes referred to as With Dersu the Hunter or Dersu the Trapper) was published, as written by Vladimir Arsenyev, an explorer who was travelling the Far East of Russia, specifically the Ussuri basin in the early 20th century. The title of the book (which was actually the second of three books he wrote) refers to the native hunter (a man of the Nanai people [known once as the Goldi] who lived from c.1849 to 1908) that Arsenyev encountered in his travels that became a helpful guide for the rough wilderness. One admirer of Aresenyev's chronicles was Akira Kurosawa, who expressed a desire to film such travels for years but found that the only way to do it right would be to film in the region itself (which in it of itself would be hard, and add the fac that, well, this was part of the Soviet Union). By the 1970s, Kurosawa was in a turbulent period in his life, one that saw him go five years between filmmaking after a long and consistent stretch between his first venture in Sanshiro Sugata (1943) to Red Beard (1965). One of the things that occurred in that gap after the aforementioned 1965 film was his involvement of what would've surely been a curious venture: the Japanese perspective in the two-pronged venture that became Tora! Tora! Tora! (1970). He had spent time on the script and pre-production but was fired early into shooting that put his sanity into question in some quarters. Dodes'ka-den (1970), his response to said fears that was made in a matter of weeks in color, was not appreciated by Japanese audiences of the time. One year after, with minimal prospects (he tried television at one point), he attempted suicide but recovered. In 1973, Mosfilm approached him with an offer to work with them on a film, and he specifically asked to make a film based on Arsenyev's travels. Interestingly, the book had been adapted to film before in 1961 by Agasi Babayan. Kurosawa wrote the screenplay with Russian writer Yuri Nagibin in a production that would take years to shoot with a small crew of Soviets (and a few Japanese) that happens to also be the only 70mm production Kurosawa ever shot; in addition to Russian, other languages spoken in the film include Mandarin, and Kyakhta Russian–Chinese Pidgin. The resulting success was an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. Kurosawa would take just as much time for his next two films in Kagemusha (1980) and Ran (1985), which received even further global curiosity. 

How could I not pick a Kurosawa film when dedicating a month to world cinema, particularly his only non-Japanese feature? While it might not be his most engaging work when it comes to showing grand scope, it does accomplish a solemn procession of man's place in nature when are placed within its scope for 144 minutes. This was the most noted feature with Munzuk as star, and the Tuvan actor (alongside other professions such as singing) was a founder of a musical-drama theatre for his people. He pulls in a worthy performance to accompany the title role, a man of measurable frontier qualities that is endearing all the way through even when confronting what it means to look upon death and wonder where it seems best to do it, the frontier or in a padded society. I especially like the sequence where he observes the men trying to shoot a bottle and he confronts them with the observation that a bottle is quite precious to waste before challenging that he can shoot the string on the bottle, which he promptly accomplishes. Solomin plays the traveler with worthwhile interest in following along in the trail of the wilderness, which means dignified interest in conveying the place and mood (he narrates the film from time to time) that comes with trying to embark on the trail of life. It is a friendship based on what they understand and don't understand of each other as men of different walks, one of the land and one who lives in society of the land that nevertheless makes the ideal friendship, which makes the last scene all the more rewarding. It is the scope of images that matter most in this film, such as one that sees a rising sun and a moon setting down all in one shot. Naturally, the sequence of two men dealing with a blizzard with resounding pacing also makes a noted sequence to look on in scale.  When one does spend a bit of time away from the great wilderness, one can see the size of how man really looks when they are back in those carefully crafted buildings of comfort. The fate that arises from the inevitabilities of age and the parts that come with understanding just what nature means to the people who see and experience it for themselves. Dersu Uzala showed that Kurosawa still had what it takes to make a feature fit for audiences across the world in resourceful timing fit for the curious explorer at heart.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Next up: the original Ghost in the Shell.

Drunken Angel.

Review #2004: Drunken Angel.

Cast: 

Takashi Shimura (Doctor Sanada), Toshiro Mifune (Matsunaga), Reisaburo Yamamoto (Okada), Michiyo Kogure (Nanae), Chieko Nakakita (Nurse Miyo), Eitarō Shindō (Takahama), Noriko Sengoku (Gin), Shizuko Kasagi (Singer), Masao Shimizu (Oyabun), and Yoshiko Kuga (Schoolgirl) Directed by Akira Kurosawa (#968 - Throne of Blood, #1385 - Seven Samurai, and #1870 - Sanshiro Sugata)

Review: 

Well, it was time to do another Kurosawa film, this time with dueling interests. In addition to it belonging as a yazuka film, it is the first film with Kurosawa did with Toshiro Mifune. They would do sixteen films together over the course of nearly two decades. Mifune actually hoped to transfer to the photography department at Toho Productions (requiring new actors due to a strike) rather than be an actor (he was the son of a photographer, after all), having served in the Imperial Japanese Army in its aviation division for photography. He made his audition and happened to have it happen in the presence of Kurosawa, who saw it as "frightening as watching a wounded beast trying to break loose. I was transfixed." As for Kurosawa, he had made fair progress as a director ever since he had made his debut with Sanshiro Sugata (1943). Some of the films since that film fell under the spell of the wartime pushes (such as the two films that followed Sugata), with The Men Who Tread on the Tiger's Tail not being allowed for release in 1945 due to scrutiny from sensors until seven years later; No Regrets for Our Youth (1946) and One Wonderful Sunday (1947) were distinct melodramas. Cutting the two together, Mifune made the cut among the roster and proceeded to make his debut with Snow Trail (1947), which had Kurosawa as a co-writer on the script. The label of "yakuza film" is perhaps a bit debatable, considering that films taking a look at the Japanese organized crime syndicate would be firmly more apparent by the 1950s and 1960s (with studios such as Nikkatsu and Toei), but there were various films before this one that dealt with outlaws such as A Diary of Chuji's Travels (1927), and there are various distinct angles to yakuza films, as represented by Branded to Kill (1967) or most notably with Battles Without Honor and Humanity (1973). Point is, there are many roads yet to take within films that could be quite fascinating in future dealings.

Kurosawa wrote the film with Keinosuke Uekusa, with the script finding modification upon the realization of just how good Mifune was in a role that was not as large as originally planned. Of course, nothing is ever planned to go the way they are meant to go, whether it be film or with life. For those familiar with world cinema, or actors with plenty of familiar work, Shimura was actually the most prolific actor in a Kurosawa film, for which he appeared in 21 of them in four different decades (which includes such films as the aforementioned Sugata alongside others such as the lead role in Ikaru). He provides a worthy performance that is not upstaged in any way when it comes to acting against Mifune, one with the nerve to stand against the eyes of absurd feudalistic loyalty when it comes to gangsters. Handling the sick and depraved while trying to cope with alcohol is all that matters when it comes to life in a post-war time. He is the title character after all, one with an impulse to do what he must for his patient (black market or not) without thinking of the sense of danger if it comes to falling on the negative side of a yakuza (or worse yet, too much alcohol). The decay is visible on the places that fall prey to yakuza, whether that involves poisonous bog or little inflections of occupied fashions mimicking the West or jazz performed by Shuzuko Kasagi (note: Kurosawa had to be subtle, since the American occupation of 1945-1952 meant having to deal with an American censor board, while Kasagi happened to find popularity as someone who could sing jazz or the boogie-woogie). Mifune is exquisite in raw energy, one that seemed like a name to watch out for even back then. There would be far more opportunities for him to show his prowess and for good reason, because he has the cadence and timing required to make this burrowing man of intensity one to watch with curiosity as a beast that could only change what they want to change, which makes the shaky friendship between him and Shimura all the more involving. Each tower over the other actors, even with Yamamoto and his adversarial presence that outranks the pawns that make up the chess game of gangsters. Of course, since the film moves along with worthy patience for 98 minutes, this doesn't prove a meaningful problem when faced with such a compelling duet of people. The fight at the end is quite exquisite, tragic in its timing that sees a tired man make his final act for a duel that could only end one way. As a whole, the movie finds a quiet message of hope amongst the decay, where the only way to approach the ever-growing sense of life going on regardless of who is there is to just go rationally. It works as a film of urgency, one that forges its own tradition for an audience that surely wanted to see what Kurosawa could provide next.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Sanshiro Sugata (1943).

Review #1870: Sanshiro Sugata.

Cast: 

Susumu Fujita (Sanshiro Sugata), Denjirō Ōkōchi (Shōgorō Yano), Yukiko Todoroki (Sayo Murai), Ryūnosuke Tsukigata (Gennosuke Higaki), Takashi Shimura (Hansuke Murai), Ranko Hanai (Osumi Kodana), Sugisaku Aoyama (Tsunetami Iimura), Ichiro Sugai (Police Chief Michitsune Mishima), and Yoshio Kosugi (Master Saburō Kodama) Directed by Akira Kurosawa (#968 - Throne of Blood and #1385 - Seven Samurai)

Review: 

"I just had a gut feeling that "This is it". There was no logical explanation for my reaction, but I believed wholeheartedly in my instinct and did not doubt for an instant." - Akira Kurosawa

Sure, a martial arts drama seems a bit odd to consider within the bounds of action, but I think the quality involved behind and in front of the camera merits a worthy case. It is an adaptation of the novel of the same name that was written by Tsuneo Tomita. He was the son of Tomita Tsunejiro, a famed disciple of judo, a system of unarmed combat that is part of the modern Japanese martial art since its creation by Kanō Jigorō in 1882 as a clear mark away from jujutsu in its form of free sparring without weapon training, and it became especially important when the Tokyo Metropolitan Police hosted tournaments to see which martial art was superior, with the result being that the police academy would adapt judo as their official training style. This form of full contact designed with the intent to either throw an opponent, pin them or force submission without outright striking has proven an influence on other martial arts that includes mixed martial arts (MMA). Tomita (described as "Four Guardians of the Kōdōkan" for him being an early competitor in judo when it began its split from jujutsu), alongside Maeda Mitsuyo, would do numerous exhibitions in the United States in the early 20th century; the younger Tomita based his character of Sanshiro Sugata on his father's colleague Shiro Saigo. Amidst all of that information, it also is the feature film debut for Akira Kurosawa. He had grown up with watching films due to his upbringing, but it was his time spent with his brother Heigo in his teenage years that proved important in seeing films alongside theater and circus performances. In 1935, he was hired by Photo Chemical Laboratories (a company that would merge with the Tokyo-Takarazuka Theater Company, Toho Eiga, and Jenkins Osawa Studio to form what we know as Toho in 1937), where he would serve as an assistant director for a number of years, primarily under director Kajirō Yamamoto. Uma (1941) had him basically serve as a director in terms of control of the production when Yamamoto was busy with shooting a different film (Kurosawa, as a 4-F, was able to build on his career in the midst of World War II). It was he who told Kurosawa to take up screenwriting in order to be a good director, which he would do for all of his feature films along with a handful of other productions. The basis for Kurosawa making this film came from his gut instinct in seeing an advertisement of Tsuneo Tomita's forthcoming novel in the newspaper, but his lobbying for Toho to buy the rights to make it as a movie did not occur until it was published (indeed, when he got down to read the book, he found it commercially appealing and adaptable to his own interests); despite his enthusiasm, Toho actually approached Masahiro Makino to direct before he declined, which opened the door for Kurosawa to step in, and the film was shot in the winter of 1942.

The movie originally ran at 97 minutes on release, but it was trimmed by Japanese censors to 79 minutes (it should be noted that one defending member of the board was Yasujiro Ozu, who called it an important artistic achievement despite some charges of being too "British-American"). Some of the scenes cut did not survive, and the aforementioned cut version begins with text (since it was re-released by Toho in 1952) that also comes into play when describing a cut sequence. The movie has been remade five times, although the first two took inspiration from Kurosawa's screenplay rather than the novel. Two years later, Kurosawa would do a sequel called Sanshiro Sugata Part II, doing so at the behest of requests to do a propaganda film for the war effort that was released in May 1945, mere months before the surrender of the war (The Most Beautiful, his second feature, was also a propaganda work released in April); the film sees Okochi, Fujita, Tsukigata, and Todoroki return, but it is generally considered a lesser sequel. Let us get the obvious part out of the way: it is the journey of the hero that matters more than outright action with the hero, but it sure does pack an important punch with its execution by Kurosawa in the art of nuance. Beyond his use of wipes and shots of the weather to depict the mood of characters is a movie that seems quite prescient in making an action movie built on emotional growth, which Fujita does pretty well as the main focus. Beyond just being a judo hero, he has the brimming confidence required in making the journey believable in all the facets required in sincerity (Fujita became a star during the war for playing the hero in war flicks, much to his subsequent regret, and he shifted to supporting roles by the mid 1940s). Seeing him jump in a lotus pond and cling to a stake in an attempt to show his worth to his master is probably the noted sequence, since it shows him rising the occasion of just what matters most when lying in a pond in the spur of the moment: self-realization. Ōkōchi doesn't say much as the mentor figure, but he does exactly what is needed in the art of stoic balance, one best represented by the sequence of him handling jujutsu toughs in a river with calm patience. Todoroki makes a decent pairing with Fujita in graceful quietness, but it is Tsukigata who sticks out more in the adversarial role, slithering patiently for the inevitable climax, which is handled expertly in a windy hillside (incidentally, Kurosawa likened the character played by Tsukigata to Mephistopheles). There are four general fights shown in the film, which is handled with quiet ease that manages to not muddle the overall arc, showing that Kurosawa was all primed to become a force worth viewing in his first effort as director in a victory of style. He would get better over the course of time as a director, but one cannot go wrong with starting their curiosity here with a movie that packs the ideal punches: A Kurosawa effort and an action triumph. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Seven Samurai.

Review #1385: Seven Samurai.

Cast: 
Toshirô Mifune (Kikuchiyo), Takashi Shimura (Kambei Shimada), Keiko Tsushima (Shino), Isao Kimura (Katsushiro Okamoto), Daisuke Katō (Shichirōji), Seiji Miyaguchi (Kyūzo), Yoshio Inaba (Gorōbei Katayama), Minoru Chiaki (Heihachi Hayashida), Kamatari Fujiwara (Manzō), Kokuten Kōdō (Gisaku), Yoshio Tsuchiya (Rikichi), Eijirō Tōno (Thief), and Yoshio Kosugi (Mosuke) Directed by Akira Kurosawa (#968 - Throne of Blood)

Review: 
"I suppose all of my films have a common theme. If I think about it, though, the only theme I can think of is really a question: Why can’t people be happier together?"

"Mifune had a kind of talent I had never encountered before in the Japanese film world. It was, above all, the speed with which he expressed himself that was astounding."

It is easy to say this one of the greatest films of all time when you know how great its director is. You don't need me to tell you that this is a masterpiece of massive importance and influence to film everywhere around the world, a gem of the golden age of Japanese cinema. And yet here we are, still talking about how one could make such a grand epic in terms of direction, writing (with Shinobu Hashimoto and Hideo Oguni), and editing, which Kurosawa was responsible for. Kurosawa grew up with encouragement from family and teachers for drawing and education alongside film and theater through his brother Heigo, who worked as a silent film narrator before committing suicide in 1933. At the age of 25, he was hired by P.C.L as an assistant director. He started his work with Shojo Hanazono (1936) and worked for five years as a third/chief assistant director for 25 films. He made his debut with Toho's Sanshiro Sugata (1943), which proved successful enough to merit a sequel two years later. In a career that spanned five decades, Kurosawa made 30 feature films, with several of his works proving iconic for world cinema, such as Rashomon (1950), one of the first major hits for Japanese cinema, Dersu Uzala (1975), a Soviet-Japanese production that won an Academy Award for Best Foreign Film, and Ran (1985), which was his last epic. It should only figure that a great director has a great star to go with him, which is the case with Mifune, who collaborated with Kurosawa in sixteen films over seventeen films. He had gotten his start in the film industry with the ambition of being in the photography department. As it turned out, Toho soon needed new faces to find due to a labor dispute, and Mifune was one of numerous talents auditioning. Kurosawa, hearing about the prospect of a promising actor, found himself transfixed by the violent frenzy displayed by Mifune, later equating it to like watching a wounded beast trying to escape. Mifune found himself with his first role in Snow Trail (1947) and then his first film with Kurosawa in Drunken Angel the following year. Mifune would go on to a distinguished career in several countries before his death at the age of 77.

At three hours and 27 minutes, it is Kurosawa's longest film along with being his greatest success. One knows fairly quickly than this is going to be a grand experience from the level of detail one sees right away, since this is a beautiful film in terms of its cinematography (Asakazu Nakai) along with its music (Fumio Hayasaka) to go with effective editing from its director, who would edit late at night during shooting (as opposed to later in the studio) through the use of multiple cameras. He had sets constructed for the film when it came to the village in the belief that the quality of the sets influences the quality of the acting. The writing process took 45 day, with Mifune's role as the seventh samurai being the crucial addition made to liven up what was felt to be a bore with six. A year was spent on the production of the film, with plenty of rain for the crew to deal with and a climatic battle sequence that was filmed in snowy conditions. In any case, this is a film that resonates likes visual poetry, where no scene or character seem detrimental to its enjoyment while utilizing its immense time to build immense atmosphere and tension that make its final battle all the more worth it. Mifune, tasked with improvisation as the rogue among the others, is perfectly in his element here, delivering an energetic and compelling performance wrapped in intensity in every scene he is in. Shimura proves just as adept with leading this group of outsiders with weary skill and class. Tsushima and Kimura make for a quiet coupling, careful in chemistry that follows along with the accompanying buildup to the inevitable. The rest of the samurai cast prove just as skilled with generating interest in honor among outsiders, whether through charm or resilience. The villagers, such as Fujiwara and Kodo, lend credit to the desperation and resentment that comes from dealing with samurai, filled with class differences. There are plenty of scenes one can highlight from this film, such as the first burial sequence, where Mifune's intensity over a somber scene mourning a dead comrade leads him to make his way to a rooftop and plant the makeshift flag made to represent them and the land. Or perhaps one will find highlight in the downpour for the climax, which is swift and riveting in its composition to view. It is a film of such discipline from a director who wants to show the heroic ideal within tragedy that rewards its viewer with something to think about alongside great entertainment.

It is obvious to note that the film had plenty of admirers that led to inspiration for filmmakers. The most immediate one that comes to mind is The Magnificent Seven (1960), which Kurosawa viewed as entertaining along with disappointing as a non-version of his film. Plenty of films have taken to task the idea of assembling a team to defend a land from danger in the years since, and this is the key link to said films, whether acknowledged or not. There existed various versions of the film differing on length. For example, the release in America and the UK cut were nearly an hour shorter than the original due to Toho's belief that audiences would not want to sit through such a long film. Nowadays you can find the film in its original pristine version, and this is the easiest recommendation I can make for a film as legendary and entertaining as this one proves to be. It is certainly one of Akira Kurosawa's greatest achievements along with one of the best films of its time that stands for all time in all that it has inspired in over six decades since its release.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars

Throne of Blood.

Review #968: Throne of Blood.

Cast: 
Toshiro Mifune (Washizu Taketoki), Isuzu Yamada (Washizu Asaji), Takashi Shimura (Odakura Noriyasu), Akira Kubo (Miki Yoshiteru), Hiroshi Tachikawa (Tsuzaki Kunimaru), Minoru Chiaki (Miki Yoshiaki), Takamaru Sasaki (Lord Tsuzuki Kuniharu), Kokuten Kōdō (First General), Ueda Kichijiro (Washizu's workman), Eiko Miyoshi (Old Woman at castle), and Chieko Naniwa (The Spirit of Spider's Web) Directed by Akira Kurosawa.

Review: 
It is good to do another world cinema film, particularly one from Japan, with this being the sixth covered (#167 - Gojira, #711 - Mothra, #735 - A Page of Madness, #737 - House (1977), and #922 - Himiko). Throne of Blood (also known as Kumonosu-jō, which translates to Spider Web Castle) is based off the play MacBeth by William Shakespeare, with a few liberties taken (alongside a change of setting to feudal Japan), though one can forgive that in a movie as evocative as this movie is. It's amazing how long it has taken for me to cover a film directed by Akira Kurosawa, considered one of the most seminal filmmakers in cinema, with this being his 17th feature film.

There is just something so majestic about the movie, where the design along with the acting come together to make something so entertaining along with thrilling. Mifune (who starred in sixteen of Kurosawa's films) manages to convey his emotions and character without having to resort to having too much expression on his face; the final scene involving the arrows is the best example, in that you can clearly see the terror of having to dodge actual arrows (for the sake of realism), with his expressions being fairly clear. He does everything quite clearly and effectively, without any sense of dodgy intention. The scene where he is trying to rally his men during the climax is also a key manic highlight. Yamada is also excellent, doing a fine job at showing her ambition and her grip on Mifune's character, and the resulting aftermath. Her last scene with him is the most striking along with the most emotionally powerful to watch, especially with her not blinking throughout the film. The rest of the cast is also pretty good, with Shimura and Kubo being useful highlights, particularly when conversing with Mifune. The showcasing of emotions and themes is quite clear to see, from the consequence of human ambition to the power of fate. The cinematography by Asakazu Nakai is quite commendable, being great to look at and see executed on screen. The atmosphere of the movie is great, where the sets and design look quite realistic and the action has a sharp but incredible feel to watch. The music by Masaru Sato is also fairly striking, and the chants at the end are fitting for the tone of the film. It is easy for me to recommend this one, in part because of the core elements that make for a great film, from the way the film is constructed to the actors to the action and look of the movie.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.