The Plot

Sometime during the 12th century in Japan, three men, a woodcutter, a commoner and a priest, find themselves under the ruin of the Rashomon as they seek shelter from the heavy rain. As they wait for a break in the weather, they discuss the trial of the bandit Tajomaru, accused of killing the samurai Takehiro after having raped his wife. But was it what truely happened? The more we listen to the witnesses, the further we seem to drift away from the truth....

The Movie

Researching this movie, I quickly realized that there were two major trends among those who had reviewed it: the enthusiasts, who sometimes almost seem to imply that there just can't be anything to complain about since this movie is widely considered as one of the most important in cinema history, and those who are quick to argue that this movie is way overrated, or even plain boring. So, are the former just name-droppers in select parties, hoping to pass for the artsy-witsy type? Or are the latter either ignorant or trying to be hipper than hip by daring to go against the greater number's judgement?

I think one of the biggest problems here is that those two sides just aren't talking about the same aspects of the movie. If there's one thing that's undeniable about Rashomon, the movie that truely revealed its director, Akira Kurosawa, to the world, a rise to fame punctuated by the Golden Lion in 1951 at the Venice Film Festial, as well as a honorary award at the Oscars (this movie did not win Best Film in a Foreign Language - it is however said that it was this movie that prompted the Academy to create that category), is that at the time of its release, this movie broke grounds both technically and in terms of story-telling. Maybe the most famous of those technical "innovations" is the pointing of the camera directly at the sun: to us now, it may comes as completely anticlimatic, but this was breaking one of the biggest taboos at the time. The use of a mirror to reflect the light is another stroke of genius that works amazingly well: the light appears natural (one exception would be the strong light illuminating Tajomaru's face as he appears in the forest above Masako in his tale) while its variations in intensity and quality help set the mood in the various scenes; we know that it was in reality too dark to shoot in most places under the foliage and that even the foil reflectors traditionally used weren't enough to offer satisfactory filming conditions

But maybe the one aspect of this movie that impressed the most is the way the story is told, this presentation of several takes on what happened that fateful day, leading us only to accept in the end that the factual truth, because we couldn't experience the events first hand but only through the eyes of the various witnesses who all played a part in them, is forever lost to us. Such use of subjectivity to present a singular fact to the audience, therefore shaking their confidence in what they see, continues to this day to influence movies: recent films like "Usual Suspects" (1995) or even "Memento" (2000) are, in a sense, heirs to Rashomon, and that's not taking in account movies that are openly remakes (probably the most famous of those being Martin Ritt's "The Outrage" starring Paul Newman). Surely, if Rashomon hadn't been made, another director would probably have ended up tackling this approach, but it happens to be Kurosawa and this movie that did it first, and whatever one's appreciation of this movie is, the fact remains that, for those reasons alone, it deserves our utmost respect

But does it deserve our love? I would argue that the answer to that is not an obvious one. Firstly, it is not an emotionally engaging movie: it is hard to care for the characters, which is probably my one grip with Rashomon; however, it is an intellectually engaging movie, and relatively short (88'). The multiple layers in the visual and the acting, the philosophical statements almost make up completely for it, and it ends before the lack of emotional ties leads you to lose interest in the story

Also, if you are after a Kurosawa movie which will entertain you from the word go, you would be far better off watching "Seven Samurai" or, maybe even better, "The Hidden Fortress", which is definitely not the deepest of Kurosawa's movies, but probably one of his most accessible and fun. On the other hand, Rashomon lacks this fun factor. Well, on the surface; dwelve on it some and the irony of the woodcutter's second tale, between Tajomaru's child-like glances and the swordfight's parody, which come in direct contrast with the others' tales, and in particular Tajomaru's own, can definitely qualify as funny, although it is much more likely to bring a soft chuckle rather than an outright loud laugh out of you

Moreover, I would go as far as saying that the whole movie requires, beyond spending some time pondering what you've just seen, another viewing or four, and that may, understandably, not be everyone's cup of tea, especially since, as with all things artistic, there's no guarantee that you'll ever end up liking it. Apart from the movie failing to struck a chord emotionally, as I've mentioned earlier, you may be put off by other things: the lack of dialogues for one. I would however argue that more dialogues wouldn't have been necessary, nor would they have shed anymore light on the case. What the director wants us to know without being put into words transpires through clever camera work, precise use of space and of the elements the environment provides (weather conditions, light, shadows of the foliage, etc). What may also grate on your nerves is what may pass as overacting (in particular in Mifune's and Machiko Kyo's cases): that being said, for one, acting standards in Japan are slightly different from those in the West. What I mean by that, and those watching subtitled anime series should understand it fairly easily, is that what they consider good acting may often be considered as unnatural and overacting by us, especially when it comes to voices' inflections. Still, even in Japan these performances may be considered as overacting, but probably not as obviously so. But let's not forget that we aren't witnessing the facts as they actually happened: in a sense, the characters involved in this deadly affair are all, as they testify, performing, hoping to convincingly present the events in a way that will best serve their interests and, in the words of the others, they are but mere puppets who are made acting to suit their needs. No wonder therefore that a sense of surreality permeates the performances of all, but in particular of those whose role and attitude are presented in the most diverse lights, and that would be - you guessed it - Tajomaru and Masako, the wife

Another point that may be annoying is the lack of resolution: sure, the image the woodcutter walking away with the baby under sun that is at last shining forth provides for a hopeful note. But the movie, through the camera angle during the testimony scenes at the court, puts you in the position of the judge, of the person who is there to seek out the truth. Yet you are forced to admit, as the witnesses testify one after the other, that you'll never find it beyond the fact that the samurai is dead, that Tajomaru's played a role in it, either by killing him himself, or by driving the man, along with his wife, to commit suicide, and that the wife herself played the role of catalyst

But then the next question should be: do we need to know? Tajomaru, whatever the role he played, has, from what we are told, killed other women already: even if his role in this affair remains unclear, his fate, now that he is in the hands of justice, shouldn't. The samurai's wife, whether she has encouraged this violent act or not, will live a life of shame, a fate maybe worse than death, especially for a woman in this place and age. The samurai will not be brought back to life, not even by the truth. As for the woodcutter, even if he has taken the dagger to resale it, his generosity towards the child certainly more than redeems the possible theft

Interestingly enough, Kurosawa, it seems, never thought of Rashomon as of one of his best movies. And as for myself, I tend to agree with that statement, if only because it isn't too engaging on an emotional level. Still, Rashomon remains a movie that should be watched by any aspiring film-maker as well as any person more or less interested in the art of film-making in general, as it is a movie that made history. But I would also definitely recommend it to anyone not afraid of rather depressing yet tinted with hope, philosophical statements, and willing to spend the necessary time to reflect on it afterwards and possibly treat themselves to more than one viewing

The DVD editions

I've only watched the Criterion Collection edition of this movie, and I don't think I'll ever need another one. The restored transfer's quality is absolutely superb, even though I am tempted to say that the image faired better than the sound. The translation, from what little I can judge, is adequate; I have, however, only listened to the English dubbing for a hanful of scenes, so I can't say much, apart that it seemed terribly out of sync sometimes. The extras are all insightful, be it Robert Altman's introduction, the documentary extract on Kazuo Miyagawa, the cinematographer, or the audio commentary by Donald Richie, even though I don't quite agree on everything with him, in particular on who is Kurosawa's "spokesperson" in the movie: Mr. Richie is of the opinion that the priest is, in particular because of his optimism. I tend to believe that all three people stuck in the rain, in turn, speak Kurosawa's opinion. But small disagreements like this don't detract in in any way from the wealth of informations and enlightening insights that Mr. Richie provides. Also, the booklet that accompanies the single disc contains the two short stories on which the script was based, which is a most welcome addition

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Review cross-posted at the Confederacy of Dunces and at the Dreaming of Stars website

Additional links and image gallery accessible from my Rashomon page