Rashomon (1950): A Benchmark Cinematic Experience

Japanese director, Akira Kurosawa sent us some great movies in the middle of the 20th Century (Seven Samurai, Ikiru, Throne of Blood, Yojimbo, Ran). But it was Rashômon in 1950 which was recognized as his breakthrough, winning the Golden Lion Award at The Venice Film Festival and introducing Kurosawa and Japanese theatre to Western audiences.

The story framing for Rashômon was a benchmark at its time. It takes place through a flashback of a collection of flashbacks. In its present frame, the story takes place in medieval Japan, beneath the ruins of the Rashômon gate, where three men take shelter from a torrential rainstorm.  A priest and a woodcutter recollect the story before a passerby of a recent rape and murder, the details of which are somewhat obscure. The only thing that is clear is that a samurai was killed and his wife was raped, although the degree of her willingness is even brought into question. The story is told through three accounts. There’s the story of the bandit and alleged attacker, the story of the wife, and the story of the dead samurai through a medium. Each version differs to varying degrees, the most baffling fact being that each of the three claims to be the killer. There’s also a fourth version from the woodcutter who claims that he witnessed the event and that none of the stories are true.

This is an excellent piece of storytelling from Kurosawa. What was important was not the establishment of the facts, which are never clear by the movie’s end, but the statement that all human memory is clouded by one’s own judgment, perception and ego. A simple statement would be that the natural human instinct is to lie in order to deflect blame, but the fact that all three main role players claim to be responsible for the samurai’s death makes matters a little more complicated. The only truth is that even though each claims to be a witness, no member is completely sure about what exactly happened and will be motivated by self-interest to offer a story that paints himself in the best light.

One of Rashômon’s benchmarks was the use of the camera to illustrate events subjectively. Movie viewers pretty much exclusively at that point (and for the most part still today) were used to a camera that never lied and was simply an instrument of accurately observing events as they transpired. Instead the camera in Rashômon intentionally lies or bends the truth as it tells the story from each man’s contradictory perspective. Kurosawa employed some fascinating cinematic techniques to this extent. In each scene the lighting, the score and the mood varies slightly. Kuroswa’s techniques are a true cinematic experience as he puts his artistic background to full effect. An early scene of the woodcutter walking through the woods is brilliantly filmed at differing speeds and from different angles with a handheld camera, while his method of lighting by reflecting the sunlight through the trees with mirrors is breathtaking.

What is most interesting however is the way that each of the characters change according to the scenario, most notably the way they view themselves. Toshiro Mifune, who collaborated with Kurosawa on many projects, plays the role of the bandit. His character is slightly crazed, apparently motivated by a lion he saw in a wildlife video. He has no qualms about admitting his guilt for the killing but his portrayal varies from mindless savage to a man with compassion. The samurai (Masayuki Mori) varies from a foolish coward to a noble martyr. In his wife’s version of the story he gives her a cold ruthless violent stare. This one fascinated me from the wife’s story as it’s overdramatized by the way the wife perceived it. The real gem in the movie is the performance of the wife (Machiko Kyô) whose nuances are exceptional as she varies from weak and vulnerable to vicious and menacing. Kyô was something of an unknown at the time and went on to be a Japanese star.

Rashômon is a truly fascinating tale. It’s an enlightening study into the human mindset and motivation, but it’s also exceptional storytelling. In the end we still have no idea of the truth, but it’s never frustrating. Not only did Rashômon spark a US remake, The Outrage, it also created a new concept with The Usual Suspects probably being the best modern comparison. Kurosawa’s movie definitely created quite a legacy (rashomon is in the Oxford dictionary) and he would go on to even greater acclaim in subsequent years.

Verdict: 5 Stars Essential Viewing