confessions
by Douglas Messerli
Masato Ide, Ryuzo Kikushima, Akira Kurosawa, and Hideo Oguni (writers, based on the stories of Shūgorō Yamamoto and a novel by Dostoevsky), Akira Kurosawa (director)赤ひげ(Akahige) / Red Beard / 1965, USA 1966
Kurosawa’s 1965 masterwork, Red Beard, based on a group of short
stories by Shūgorō Yamamoto, is episodic in its structure. But it is all also,
oddly enough, a kind of epic, running for 185 minutes and with a full musical
interlude But unlike the large epic Hollywood westerns (a form to which Kurosawa
also was attracted) or the biblical dramas so popular of the 1950s and early
60s, this work is an epic, hard to imagine, about the late 19th-century medical
profession. One might even describe it as an epic about dying. And, even more
unusual, its major narrative strategy is wound around a series of deathbed
confessions.
Niide’s methods of doctoring might be described as something closer to
involving the spiritual than medical operations. Yes, the run-down
clinic/settlement house he runs, is kept sparklingly clean, and its doctors,
living in almost Spartan conditions, are asked at all time to wear medical
uniforms, and when needed he does perform operations that seem to be far ahead
of most European 19th-century hospitals; but, more importantly, the skeptical
head doctor realizes that those down and out, literally “smelly” folks for
which he cares, more often simply need to be heard, given something to eat, and
allowed the peace to properly end their lives.
The various “confessions” that the film’s director weaves together
include a mad woman, nicknamed “The Mantis,” (Kyōko Kagawa), who has killed a
husband
The Otoyo story, based on a Dostoevsky novel, is perhaps the central
one, since it involves her cure by caring for Noboru after his attack, and her
allowing a young boy, who steals food from the clinic kitchen to help feed his
family, to escape, and, later, secretly brings him food that she herself
doesn’t eat. When the boy is finally caught stealing from a merchant, his
family determines to kill itself en masse
by consuming rat poison.
The confessional act, accordingly, is absolutely appropriate to
Kurosawa’s theme. A daughter who has rejected a father, a husband who has
unwittingly helped to kill his wife, a beautiful woman who, after being raped,
cannot resist killing off her admirers, and a young child who, beaten and
raped, finds it hard to communicate, all enter Niide’s humble church-like space
to help relieve them from their suffering. Using a mix of shocking truths and
gentle lies, the priest-doctor Niide helps the patients who might otherwise
have nowhere else to turn in order to comprehend what has happened to them. Is
it any wonder, in the end, that the young doctor Noboru, when finally called
home, determines to stay on? He has found a calling in which thought was simply
a career.
Los Angeles, August 12, 2107
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (August 2017).
No comments:
Post a Comment