RanA bad leader is one who refuses to accept criticism. Ran is a samurai epic, directed by Akira Kurosawa, and is loosely adapted from "King Lear" by William Shakespeare. After fifty years of brutal warfare, a warlord in feudal Japan named Hidetora Ichimonji (Tatsuya Nakadai) breaks protocol and decides to abdicate power to his eldest son, Taro (Akira Terao). But aside from just confusing everyone, this arbitrary choice invokes the barely concealed jealousy of his second son, Jiro (Jinpachi Nezu), and rebuke from his youngest son, Saburo (Daisuke Ryu). Yet the indignant Hidetora refuses to admit his failings, exiling Saburo rather than listen to reason, thus sealing his fate and the fate of all of those unfortunate to have been under his rule.
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Akira Kurosawa was one of the vanguard of international arthouse filmmakers from the 1950s. I say "arthouse", but what I should say is "creator-driven movies, favoring auteur input over studio input"...movies as a form of artistic expression. Films like the amazing Rashomon and The Seven Samurai became definitive films that influenced a generation of filmmakers and reached across oceans and continents to invite fill buffs and neophytes both to enjoy a whole new way of experiencing a movie. There is a certain style of cinematography to be found in his earlier films. Events of the story may often be observed from afar, giving the scene the quality of appearing on a stage, such as in scenes replete with dialogue. (This is counterbalanced with his action scenes, which--while also often viewed from afar--are much more intense, and would be impossible to portray in the theater.) What surprised me about Ran most of all was the way with which Kurosawa maintained this form of cinematography and staging in this film, even though it was made over thirty years after those earlier films. The effect is disarming, and even a bit disorienting, as more contemporary films aren't typically as distant in moments where characters experience the kinds of drama present in Ran. For example, after the indignant Hidetora balks at being subservient to Taro--despite putting him in this position of power himself--and then with Jiro, he plans to visit the "Third Castle" where Saburo had been living (up until abandoning it to take up residence with another warlord). Ultimately, this is a trap; Taro and Jiro have conspired to slay Hidetora's honor guard, with their father's survival up left in the air. Hidetora figures out this betrayal, and wears his shock on his face for virtually the rest of the film. But there are no sudden zooms, no deep close ups that use the camera to emphasize the emotion--this responsibility is carried by the actor, by and large. Another notable instance of this follows when Taro's wife, the manipulative Kaede (Mieko Harada) has demanded the head of Jiro's wife, Sue (Yoshiko Miyazaki), after seducing him (who in turn saw to it that Taro was slain in battle in order to usurp power), and the head appears to be delivered by Jiro's right-hand man, Kurogane (Hisashi Igawa). In another movie, you would expect for the camera to give undue attention to the head-shaped bundle brought in. But the absence of this dramatic effect does more to unnerve the audience at the sheer brutality of such an act than it would have otherwise.
Comparisons to "King Lear" notwithstanding, the general sentiment of Ran is that leaders who build their kingdoms on warfare are ultimately undone by it. The way that Kurosawa reveals the details of just who Hidetora is--and what his past has been, as a cruel and vicious tyrant--is peeled away layer by layer, like a blossom...or a fetid onion. At first glance, Hidetora is a tired, old man--a bit daffy for his foolish choice to give away his kingdom. But with each consecutive scene, we are informed of key details that constantly paint Hidetora in a different light, alternating our opinions of him between pity and repulsion. This is felt best in the scenes with Kaede, but also with Sue. Both women were the survivors of Hidetora's conquests, and they have been all but sold into marriage to his sons. Kaede is driven by a sense of revenge, to see Hidetora (and his sons, it would seem) destroyed for their part in ruining her family. Suddenly, her cruelty becomes something more sympathetic, knowing the viciousness with which Hidetora destroyed her family. And yet, in the next scene, he visits Sue, who has embraced her faith in Buddha, and has forgiven Hidetora, despite everything. Here we see a sorrowful Hidetora, who begs her to hate him so that he isn't confronted with the guilt of his past. Hidetora's psyche is broken less than half way through the film, but the suffering does not relent. He wanders the kingdom of his own making in a daze. His companion is his courtly fool named Kyoami (Peter), who may mock Hidetora, but remains ever faithful to him, even when all others have gone away. There is something akin to the myth of Pandora's Box here, except that Hidetora's suffering is greater; he doesn't even have hope left to him after he unleashes his foolish plan...just mockery. One can see a similarly bleak, cynical outlook of kings and kingdoms in many contemporary works, not least of which is "A Song of Ice and Fire" (a.k.a. "Game of Thrones"). In fact, the "King Lear" associations are right on the surface in that story's prequel, "House of the Dragon"...achingly so. Despite being a movie with a complex narrative, the battle scenes in Ran represent the high points for the movie. For a film with a comparatively small budget (despite being the most expensive film in Japanese history at the time, at around $12 million), the battles are complex, massive, and very dangerous. For the life of me, I still wonder just how anyone tossed from horseback (and there's easily a dozen at least) wasn't killed under the trampling of hooves of the other riders in any given battle scene. There are massive sets put to the torch, and each battle scene is unrelentingly grisly, with one poor samurai trying to reattach his arm in one. (I have no doubt that this film informed Steven Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan and the notorious opening scene, depicting the storming of Normandy.) There is a pervasive sense of doom all throughout Ran, one which only grows more fervent with each passing frame. And there is a great sadness to Hidetora...not because he is worthy of sympathy for his transgressions, but because he never truly learns from his mistakes. And it isn't just him who suffers for his pride and greed, but everyone--literally everyone--around him. Doom becomes his epitaph...his sorry legacy.
Recommended for: Fans of a bold and vivid samurai epic, written in blood and fire, and always plummeting toward its devastating end with terminal velocity. Ran is best enjoyed by patient viewers, as the movie has a sluggish start. But for those who can appreciate the classical composition of this bleak tale by one of cinema's most revered auteurs, there is a dark catharsis waiting at its tragic center.
Comparisons to "King Lear" notwithstanding, the general sentiment of Ran is that leaders who build their kingdoms on warfare are ultimately undone by it. The way that Kurosawa reveals the details of just who Hidetora is--and what his past has been, as a cruel and vicious tyrant--is peeled away layer by layer, like a blossom...or a fetid onion. At first glance, Hidetora is a tired, old man--a bit daffy for his foolish choice to give away his kingdom. But with each consecutive scene, we are informed of key details that constantly paint Hidetora in a different light, alternating our opinions of him between pity and repulsion. This is felt best in the scenes with Kaede, but also with Sue. Both women were the survivors of Hidetora's conquests, and they have been all but sold into marriage to his sons. Kaede is driven by a sense of revenge, to see Hidetora (and his sons, it would seem) destroyed for their part in ruining her family. Suddenly, her cruelty becomes something more sympathetic, knowing the viciousness with which Hidetora destroyed her family. And yet, in the next scene, he visits Sue, who has embraced her faith in Buddha, and has forgiven Hidetora, despite everything. Here we see a sorrowful Hidetora, who begs her to hate him so that he isn't confronted with the guilt of his past. Hidetora's psyche is broken less than half way through the film, but the suffering does not relent. He wanders the kingdom of his own making in a daze. His companion is his courtly fool named Kyoami (Peter), who may mock Hidetora, but remains ever faithful to him, even when all others have gone away. There is something akin to the myth of Pandora's Box here, except that Hidetora's suffering is greater; he doesn't even have hope left to him after he unleashes his foolish plan...just mockery. One can see a similarly bleak, cynical outlook of kings and kingdoms in many contemporary works, not least of which is "A Song of Ice and Fire" (a.k.a. "Game of Thrones"). In fact, the "King Lear" associations are right on the surface in that story's prequel, "House of the Dragon"...achingly so. Despite being a movie with a complex narrative, the battle scenes in Ran represent the high points for the movie. For a film with a comparatively small budget (despite being the most expensive film in Japanese history at the time, at around $12 million), the battles are complex, massive, and very dangerous. For the life of me, I still wonder just how anyone tossed from horseback (and there's easily a dozen at least) wasn't killed under the trampling of hooves of the other riders in any given battle scene. There are massive sets put to the torch, and each battle scene is unrelentingly grisly, with one poor samurai trying to reattach his arm in one. (I have no doubt that this film informed Steven Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan and the notorious opening scene, depicting the storming of Normandy.) There is a pervasive sense of doom all throughout Ran, one which only grows more fervent with each passing frame. And there is a great sadness to Hidetora...not because he is worthy of sympathy for his transgressions, but because he never truly learns from his mistakes. And it isn't just him who suffers for his pride and greed, but everyone--literally everyone--around him. Doom becomes his epitaph...his sorry legacy.
Recommended for: Fans of a bold and vivid samurai epic, written in blood and fire, and always plummeting toward its devastating end with terminal velocity. Ran is best enjoyed by patient viewers, as the movie has a sluggish start. But for those who can appreciate the classical composition of this bleak tale by one of cinema's most revered auteurs, there is a dark catharsis waiting at its tragic center.