Eclipse Series 23: The First Films of Akira Kurosawa (1943-45)

Sanshiro Sugata 姿三四郎

1943 // Japan // Akira Kurosawa 黒澤明

Criterion Collection (LINK) / Letterboxd (LINK)

Despite some scenes were cut and modified by censorship in order to fit the WWII milieu and national propaganda, Akira Kurosawa’s first feature was confidently executed with an emphasis on a man’s pursuit of enlightenment and purity. Sanshiro Sugata (Susumu Fujita) was the hothead, boyish disciple of the Judo master Shogoro Yano (Denjiro Ookouchi). Sanshiro embodied the self-transformation along the path of an ‘inherently Japanese’ martial arts by replacing the old Jujitsu under the guidance of his master. He found the meaning of beauty from a lotus blossom, and the power of self-possession while fighting with the kindly Jujitsu master, Hansuke Murai (Takashi Shimura), who happened to be the father of the woman he loved. The film moves at a tight pace, even in a fragmented form the story is quite consistent. The climactic fight on a wind-swept hillside between Sanshiro and the villain Gennosuke Higaki (Ryunosuke Tsukigata), an opponent in westernized clothes representing the ‘western enemy’, foreshadowed Kurosawa’s trademark of incorporating the extreme weather into the context of characterization and dramatic scenery. It’s a well-made film, albeit flawed, by a master who knew what he’s doing from the get-go.

 

Sanshiro Sugata Part II 續姿三四郎

1945 // Japan // Akira Kurosawa 黒澤明

Criterion Collection (LINK) / Letterboxd (LINK)

Akira Kurosawa’s disinterest in making a sequel of SANSHIRO SUGATA was reflected from the mediocrity in storytelling, camera movement, and editing. Is it the worst of Kurosawa’s? I don’t think so, but it definitely belongs to the bottom section. The Judo-disciple Sanshiro (Susumu Fujita) continued his introspective journey and encapsulated a self-discipline, spiritual wartime hero with all his boyish charm reduced to head-rubbing gesture only in Part II. Most of the main characters were back, including Gennosuke Higaki (Ryunosuke Tsukigata), the villain from the first film became a redeemed dying man; and Sanshiro’s Judo master Shogoro Yano (Denjiro Ookouchi). Mindless Western boxers and Gennosuke‘s vengeful brothers took up the role of villains here without much of gravity besides a manifestation of the national policy. The choreography of the fight sequences was largely conventional and bland, even the climactic fight on a snow-falling slope, a recall to the final fight on a wind-swept hillside in the first film, was deprived of meaning. Once again, Sayo (Yukiko Todoroki), the love interest of Sanshiro, was mostly a supportive character for the masculine hero if not a distraction of a man’s pursuit of self-empowerment. Kurosawa apparently had his own principles concerning the kind of story he wanted to tell.

 

The Most Beautiful 一番美しく

1944 // Japan // Akira Kurosawa 黒澤明

Criterion Collection (LINK) / Letterboxd (LINK)

Undisputedly a propaganda project with an aim to raise the morale of Japanese during a war that was imminent to be lost, THE MOST BEAUTIFUL is an anomaly in the midst of Akira Kurosawa‘s filmography. The documentary texture was largely undercut by the melodramatic plot which centered around a group of young female volunteers working in a lens factory for military equipment, wherein individual sacrifice, including not least one’s physical health and family obligation, was encouraged for the sake of the national policy. It inevitably left a bad taste in my mouth throughout the film, despite the gentle characterization of strong-willed women, which is a rarity in Kurosawa’s male-centric oeuvre. The historical context behind the making of the film and the fact that it was directed by Kurosawa are perhaps the only reasons I had watched it twice so far.

 

The Men Who Tread on the Tiger’s Tail 虎の尾を踏む男達

1945 // Japan // Akira Kurosawa 黒澤明

Criterion Collection (LINK) / Letterboxd (LINK)

Produced during the end of WWII under extremely limited resources, Kurosawa‘s first ‘samurai films’ was at once a reverence of samurai code and a subversion of federalism by incorporating a clownish porter (Kenichi Enomoto) into with the group of samurai with their lord trespass an enemy territory disguising as monks. This paradoxical argument reflected how the worshipping of the warrior from the past had gone wrong at the present time, and what’s left for commendation in the future after the defeat. The film is only an hour-long but Kurosawa certainly took its time to address the Noh and Kabuki elements, including the solemn theatrical performance and dance sequence. The comedic presence of Enomoto who chewed every scene he appeared unavoidably undermined the solemnity, but I understand Kurosawa’s purpose of lightening up the mood against the gloominess at the end of the war. And it’s intriguing to see Masayuki Mori and Takashi Shimura appearing in this wartime film basically doing nothing particularly memorable.