 "Photo: Courtesy Photo")
Ran begins with a fever dream and descends into a living nightmare. What's left for an old, withered man as he sifts through the shattered remains of a life misspent, as shards of regret shear his mind like glass, as staccato lightning starkly illuminates the many faces of those he's wronged? The answer is nothing. There is nothing left for him -- nothing but pain in the chaos.
The story of Ran is a familiar one, as the film is essentially Shakespeare's King Lear transposed from medieval England to feudal Japan. The powerful, elderly warlord Hidetora decides to end his reign and divide the land among his three sons. After Hidetora impulsively disowns the one son who truly loves him, the remaining two begin an extensive game of power play in order to completely usurp their father's throne, and eventually begin to battle one another. The rest of the film comprises of Hidetora realizing that his sons have betrayed him, and suffering from the madness that his hasty decisions incite. The requisite characters from King Lear are present, and readers of Shakespeare can likely connect the original characters to their Japanese counterparts. At times one may also notice phrases, musings and themes that are clearly in reference to the original play, yet it must be said that the filmmakers have made the story their own. Before I scare anyone off, I'd like to mention that it is in no way necessary to read King Lear before seeing this film. If anything, the clear, modern language of the subtitles makes Ran easier to understand.
Released in 1985 after reportedly having been ten years in the making, Ran is a masterwork from legendary Japanese director Akira Kurosawa. Unfortunately, the now-revered filmmaker's work had been met with antagonism from its contemporary Japanese audience, and as a result, the once prolific director struggled to attain financing for projects later in his life. A staggering 21 films released within 20 years from 1945 to 1965, were followed by only 4 films from 1966 to 1986. The only explanation for Kurosawa's ostracism seems to be a Japanese distaste for the "Western orientation in his work," as fellow director Sidney Lumet puts it.
Judging by his infrequent opportunities for filmmaking, his advanced age (he was 72 years old in 1985), and his numerous comments regarding the film, it seems that Kurosawa wanted to make Ran count. On one occasion he remarked, "I feel as though Ran is my life's work. I want to put all the energy left inside me into this film." Kurosawa also called Ran his "testament." Kagemusha, his previous film that was similarly set in Japan's feudal era, was actually described by Kurosawa as "a practice run for Ran."
Beautifully photographed, steadily paced, and populated with performances trembling from sheer emotional power, this film truly seems the summation of Kurosawa's directorial skill. In a documentary by Chris Marker on the making of Ran, we see the elderly director's meticulous attention to detail, even down to the management of the lead actor's subtle gestures and facial expressions. Indeed, Tatsuya Nakadai, who plays the Lear character, haunts the screen with great bulging eyes and a face often stricken with an insurmountable fear. He wanders the blackened, blighted landscape, pale and moaning like a mad ghostly presence.
The one Oscar that Ran earned was for Best Costume Design. While such a distinction isn't necessarily on par with Best Foreign Film, the costumes in Ran are definitely dazzling, with a color palette as bright as Christmas morning; deep reds co-mingle on kimonos with royal blues, pure whites, and sunny yellows. The creation of the intricately crafted costumes was quite time-consuming, and actors wearing the precious fabrics during rehearsals confessed to being scared of accidentally ruining their garments' pristine condition before the shoot.
What this luminescent chromatic display conceals are the dark souls underneath the clothes, beyond the skin, who have no qualms about committing despicable acts of violence. In one of the most grand and disturbing battle sequences I have ever seen, the despairing melodies of the musical score lend sound to an otherwise eerily silent, blood-stained battleground. Slain warriors are strewn about the stronghold, coloring the castle crimson, and startlingly swift arrows fly past the screen in a flurry of blurred movement. The arrows' destination: any associate of the once powerful warlord, Hidetora. His sons have finally attempted to kill him, and as Hidetora departs a building set ablaze, he emerges as a new, fractured being.
"Ran," in English, translates to "chaos." Fittingly, a working title for the film was Hell. A madness within Hidetora has been baptized by fire, and the stairs that he descends are merely a portion of the long painful road to the movie's end -- a finale drenched in red. This is chaos choreographed on celluloid. This is a hell for the damned. This is the fiery core of the film, the passion of the long-disregarded Kurosawa, condensed into pure suffering depicted onscreen at 24 frames-per-second.
Join us for a free screening of Ran on Thursday, 10/11, at 7:00p.m. in the MUB Theatre I.
Be Well, FU
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