October 12, 2009
As always, the title was changed in translation: "Kumonosu-j?" actually translates to "Spider's Web Castle," the given name of the castle in the film. It's probably criminal to some, but at this point I'm more familiar--in terms of what I have experienced--with the work of Akira ...( read more)Kurosawa than I am with the work of William Shakespeare. In my youth, I picked up a set of his three major tragedies (debateably, of course--but I mean King Lear, Hamlet and Macbeth) but discovered I have no taste for reading plays. I've not seen (nor participated in, with my brief stage "career" in high school) many performances of the Bard, either. As such, there are only the forced readings from school that inhabit my conscious, as well as the film adaptations I've seen (and other alternate-medium adaptations and discussions) that inform my knowledge of Shakespeare. It's limiting to have difficulty reading poetry and plays (yeah, neither!) so I haven't gained much ground on this, either. Still, that list does include Macbeth, actually, which I was fascinated by, and so for once I could watch one of Kurosawa's "adaptations" and think, "Hey! I know this plot!" (which I could not do with Ran and its King Lear-inspired plot, as I've never read, seen, heard or otherwise experienced that play).
Taketoki Washizu (Toshir? Mifune) returns to Lord Kuniharu Tsuzuki (Hiroshi Tachikawa) after defeating the forces of competing Lord Inui, but he and Yoshiaki Miki (Minoru Chiaki), his fellow warrior, are stopped in the forest by the sight of a mysterious and ghostly stranger (Chieko Naniwa). She tells them of their coming glories, that Washizu will become lord of a new territory, and eventually replace lord Tsuzuki, while Miki's son will also eventually take Tsuzuki's place. They are confused and surprised by this, and relatively disbelieving, until their return to Tsuzuki leaves Washizu with the exact titled prophesied. Washizu's wife, Asaji (Isuzu Yamada), begins to play on Washizu's paranoias and ambition, suggesting that he should take an active role in the next part of the prophecy. The visit of Lord Tsuzuki to Washizu's guard brings him into reluctant agreement with Asaji, and so he assassinates the powerful lord and sets into motion a far more obviously unavoidable set of events to fulfill prophecy, as suspicion and conflict return to the kingdom.
Deviations from Shakespeare mostly relate to the setting, in obvious terms at least. However, there is more to it. There's more reluctance on the part of Washizu, there's a different denouement, it's all tweaked and nudged in various directions to suit Kurosawa's own plans. This, of course, is probably its saving grace as a film. Many consider it one of the (if not THE) best Shakespeare film adaptations around. Nothing is sacrificed for 'accuracy,' and nothing is shoved into place despite the film so that it suits the original play. The tone, the meaning, the concept, the idea--this is what is transferred over. A bare skeleton, a basework, from which a new piece of art is created. This is not a surprising approach for Kurosawa, who was notorious for his stubborn vision and tendency toward lack of restraint. What he builds, though, is something that, in losing the language and exact construction of the play, is something that more viscerally pushes the feeling of the play. He imbues it, interestingly, with a native (to him) form of theatre despite the conversion to film, though: Noh. Masaru Sato (who composed for a number of Kurosawa's films) puts forth a Noh-styled minimalist score, very traditional and very sparse. Asakazu Nakai's cinematography is often stark in its contrast, creating deep and clear pools of white for Naniwa's ghostly demon and dark, dense and intricate pools of darkness for the men facing her. Interiors, even more so, bring in this approach. Makeup and lighting gives many of the actors the appearance of Noh masks.
Interestingly, Kurosawa's lack of restraint and sense of majesty and spectacle serves him far better than modern approaches to the same: scenes like the final ones, especially, are impressive even now, as those loyal to Tsuzuki attempt to retake Spider's Web Castle from Washizu and use the very forest to do so, and then as Washizu meets his fate in fearful madness and a slew of arrows. An interest in fog and its usage also serves Kurosawa, when anyone is lost in the protective fog surrounding Spider's Web Castle and finds themselves lost and turned around over and over, galloping in and out of the fog. Any of these things could easily turn out poorly, and the fog scenes certainly walk a tightrope and nearly fall into a place of wondering--wondering, that is, what on earth we're watching them gallop in and out of the fog for. But it never quite falls off into that particular confusion, consistently it's clear that the two men galloping astride horses onscreen are getting lost repeatedly, however theatrically--as if they are trapped in the space of a stage to convey this, despite having an entire real field of fog and the possibility of multiple cameras--and show this perfectly.
This is not my favourite Kurosawa, but that's nearly meaningless. It's still Kurosawa and absolutely brilliant film-making, and certainly an easy place for Westerners to start if they wish for some semblance of familiarity in their first foray into Kurosawa's filmography.
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