Rashomon

Mike Di Benedetto, 10/18/11, Rashomon, Japanese, Akira Kurosawa, 1951 Vince Festival (Grand Prize, 1951), Academy Award (Best Foreign Film, 1952).

            Rashomon is the kind of film that deserves to be mentioned in the context of any reputable conversation of impressive cinema.  The film can be approached and appreciated to a vast degree from a number of vantage points: the symbolism, the fine cinematography, and the way it questions human morality and ethics.  In many ways, Rashomon was ahead of its time and while borrowing both elements of western and eastern filmmaking succeeded in conceiving something powerful and original, even by today’s standards.

            The first article I read was a review by Roger Ebert for the Chicago Sun and was taken from “rogerebert.suntimes.com.”  Ebert begins with some background on the film and states that it seemed doomed from the start; the studio was reluctant to make it, and many felt the story was incomprehensible and confusing.  Yet once it was released, it took much of the world by surprise.  Ebert suggests that the genius of the film is that all the flashbacks are both true and false; they convey what the person telling the story believes he or she witnessed.  Ebert goes on to say that aside from the excellent storytelling, the film’s brilliance also lies in its visuals emotions.

            The second article I read was written by Keiko McDonald, entitled “Light and Darkness in Rashomon” and was taken from pages 120-129 from the 1982, 10^th volume of the Film Quarterly.  The article opens with some information on Rashomon’s background and achievements.  The author then focuses the remainder of the article on the film’s symbolism via use of visuals and lighting.  He discusses the contrast of setting between the story’s events; the murder and rape take place in a dark forest, the contemplation of the priest, the woodcutter and the commoner are set in the pouring rain, and the trial is held in the calm of day while the sun is blazing.  McDonald continues with his interpretation of the film’s symbolism all the while suggesting the impressive nature of the film.

            To me, Rashomon was a film composed by a perfect storm – stunning cinematography, symbolism and storytelling.  The very concept of telling a story through a series of distorted flashbacks is one that screams genius and has been borrowed by many since – television and film.  Rashomon broke Japanese cinema into the western world – and rightfully so.  Even though it was made more than a half of century ago, it’s the kind of film that couldn’t ever feel dated, and I would recommend it to anyone seeking a rich cinematic experience.