Every man's Dreams

Akira Kurosawa stays firmly rooted to the position of favorite filmmaker for various reasons. Often it is his cinematic genius and the symbolism prevalent in his films. But most importantly, his films work because they transcend geographical boundaries.

Though not one of his best films, Dreams proved to be visually stunning, and filled with imagery that is typical of any Kurosawa film. A collection of eight short stories based on the director's actual dreams, Dreams is a film about glaring contrasts. Interestingly, despite the contrasts and differing themes, all eight point towards life, nature, and the need for harmony in the world.

Kurosawa expresses his views in three obvious segments. In the first segment, he is the young child who hasn't yet begun his interferance with the beauty surrounding him. In the second segment, he is the young adult, who is caught in the battle between natural beauty, and made-made interferance. Finally he is part of a dreaded future, where men have become savage beasts, as a result of their own greed and indifference to nature. You witness these three segments through a series of short stories that end with a grand finale.

In the first two stories, you are introduced to a young boy, who has to face the consequences of interfering with nature. In one he has to pay the price for secretly witnessing a forbidden wedding procession of foxes. In the next film, he has to prove his innocence to a group of tree spirits, who are angry because the boy's family was responsible for cutting down their peach trees. Both these stories are set in the midst of much beauty and color, and it seems relevant in a film where the director is supporting its sustenance.

From then on, the film begins getting dark and bleak. We encounter a group of mountaineers who barely manage to survive a snowstorm, and an army commander battling with the demons of having survived a pointless war. Survival in the midst of adversity that could have been avoided is followed by painful survival in the midst of man-made adversity.

We have all read and studied the affects of radioactivity on mankind. But I doubt if any of us have given it more than a passing thought. Kurosawa goes a step further with his dream-turned-short film, in which we see Mount Fuji in flames. Six different nuclear reactors explode, causing wide paranoia and numerous suicides. But in the next film, we see the fate of those who survive. Like demons in the midst of a different world, we see deformed people weep and scream in pain, because of their newly acquired horns.
Both stories exude a certain helplessness that shocks you to realizing that man's greatest enemy is man itself.

But Dreams doesn't end on this bleak tragic note. In an interesting story, we get a peek into Vincent Van Gogh's paintings, as the main protagonist journeys through the master painter's paintings, in an attempt to follow and understand him. The color and beauty on canvas seems permanent and safe, one that we could like to secure and preserve in our real lives. And we are told how we can do that, in the final story, where the main protagonist wanders into a beautiful, friendly watermill village. There he encounters a 103-year-old, who gives him a lesson on how one can preserve nature. His discourse ends when he joins the joyous funereal procession of his first love.
The excitement, music, and dancing in so infectious, you begin to crave for such as world, where man is one with nature.

Despite the obvious message in these short stories, the film lacks impact. Perhaps seeing them as dreams, forces you to look upon them as mere figments of someone's imagination, and not as dreaded realities. I would not recommend the film to anyone who hasn't seem other works of Kurosawa. Dreams perhaps isn't the best Kurosawa film to start with, and its symbolism could be lost on someone who isn't aware of his technique. But then again, the theme is universal and not specific to Japan, so anyone who is sensitive to a changing world will identify with Kurosawa's dream as his own!

As the director, Kurosawa is the obvious star of this film. But it wouldn't be fair, if due credit wasn't given to the cinematographers and art directors, who have both skillfully captured Kurosawa's imagination. Takao Saito and Masaharu Ueda as cinematographers, and a host other technical experts deserve due credit for their success.