RASHOMON

This 1950 film by the Japanese director Kurosawa is widely regarded as one of the greatest ever made, so it was something of a surprise to learn that it wasn't universally loved when it was released, especially in its home country.    

It is about the violent death of a samurai whose body is found in a forest, some time way back in early Medieval times.  

During the course of the film we are presented with four conflicting accounts of what happened, told in flashback by a different narrator each time.  All we the audience know for sure is that a bandit tied the samurai up with rope, before raping his wife.  What then ensued is not at all clear.

The first three accounts are by the bandit (who is on trial), the wife, and (via a medium) the dead samurai.  According to these accounts either the bandit killed the samurai with his sword, or the samurai committed suicide with his wife's dagger. 

In each case the narrator behaves in accordance with their self-image, or in accordance with how society might expect them to behave.

The fourth account is by a woodcutter who found the body.  It turns out that he saw what happened but kept this information to himself because (he says) he didn't want to get involved.

In his account none of the three protagonists behave particularly well.  The wife goads the two men into a sword fight, but the fight (compared with that described by the bandit in his account) is a shambolic one, with both men frightened of losing.  Eventually though the bandit does manage to kill the samurai.

I took the woodcutter's account to be the truth, but there is a sting in the tail, because we then find out that he wasn't being entirely honest either, withholding the fact that he stole the wife's valuable dagger.

The film uses a framing device whereby the death of the samurai is being discussed three days later by three characters - the woodcutter, a priest, and a commoner - whilst they are sheltering from a heavy rainstorm under the Rashomon Gate (look it up if you're interested). 

The priest is very gloomy about the state of the world, and his gloom only deepens during the course of the film due to everyone involved lying and acting selfishly.  Whereas the commoner is something of a cynic who finds the whole business entertaining. 

The priest's mood is not helped when the commoner then tries to steal clothes from an abandoned baby at the Gate.

When the woodcutter offers to look after the baby - he says that he already has six children so one more won't matter - a cynic might think that with the money he'll get from the dagger he can easily afford this gesture.  

But the priest says that this offer has restored his faith in humanity. Symbolically the film ends on this hopeful note with the rain stopping and the sun coming out.

So why is this film so great?

Well, the way the story is told, using different perspectives, is compelling and quite an innovation for its time (although you might argue that 'Citizen Kane' does the same thing in a far more sophisticated way).

The cinematography throughout is just stunning.  Some of the images, of running figures through the sunshine-dappled forest, for example, or just of the heavy rain at the Gate, are unforgettable.  There is one remarkable shot of the wife sitting on the grass in the middle distance where she seems quite luminous.

The score is also very effective, providing that one overlooks that it is clearly a rip-off of Ravel's Bolero. 

The acting is of a very high standard.  In particular I thought Machiko Kyō as the wife is outstanding in a very difficult role since she does spend a lot of the screen time in tears, but she really gets a chance to shine in the woodcutter's narrative. 

Finally of course one has to doff one's cap to the assured direction by the great Kurosawa.

It's a masterpiece and a landmark of world cinema, coming in at only 88 minutes - it's a must-see. 

RATING: ✓✓✓ Absolutely Fabulous