stopping by the swings on a snowy evening

Akira Kurosawa's powerful masterpiece resembles the Frank Capra classic, "It's a Wonderful Life." Both films deal with the notion of one man making a difference in the world and the question: what does it mean to live ('Ikiru' means 'to live')?

"Ikiru" opens with a narration describing an old man's (Takashi Shimura) pathetic and meaningless life while the camera watches the man do his job - he is the chief of Citizen's section in the town hall. Kurosawa establishes the anti-bureaucratic tone of the film in the beginning by having each department of the town hall send a group of women to another one until it reaches full circle and the women have still not received help. Meanwhile, the main character, Watanabe, learns that he has stomach cancer and about six months to live. He remains somewhat stoic about the unfortunate news until he returns home and sobs underneath the sheets of his bed.

Watanabe chooses not to break the news to his children; instead, he is led through the city night life by a writer who takes pity on him. At one place, Watanabe requests a song (an oldie love song, from the pianist's description) and sings the words as the bystanders distance themselves and share an uncomfortable silence. His singing is terrible, but the scene is effective because he sings from the heart and because the lyrics pertain to his circumstances. The close-up of him singing with tears forming in his eyes is a powerful image if there ever was one. Watanabe eventually gives up the night life and spends the next few days with a former young female co-worker - an unlikely pairing, but it works alright. It is after a conversation with this woman when Watanabe realizes that he must do something meaningful in his final weeks.

Then Kurosawa turns the film on its ear by jumping ahead to Watanabe's funeral. The co-workers have gathered and discuss Watanabe's role in the construction of a playground in a poor neighborhood. The two themes of this final 45 minutes are again the dehumanized bureaucracy and the "Rashomon"-esque nature of truth and point of view. Kurosawa masterfully concludes the film with an ending that enhances the overall power of the film.

Shimura's lead performance is one for the ages. He has mastered the sad-puppy-dog look to perfection. His old-man movement and slow manner of speaking pays off in the later scenes told in flashback. Here is an dying old man, who even struggles to utter comprehensible words, and he is challenging top officials to achieve his goal for self-redemption.

The singing scene is repeated near the end, and Kurosawa has masterfully changed the viewer's feeling toward Watanabe's singing. Also, the first scene features the tear-jerking close-up, while Watanabe's face cannot be seen in the latter.

This is a must-see for any serious fan of cinema, especially foreign. This is a wonderful and inspiring film about humanity, and it will not leave the viewer's mind for some time. (In Japanese with subtitles)