Japanese cinema was little known in the western world until Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival in 1951 as well as receiving an Academy Honorary Award at the 24th Academy Awards. Formerly over looked by the modern thinking western film makers Japanese cinema had now arrived to claim its own place in the history of the art. The films surprisingly simple but yet deceptively complex story, told from multiple perspectives is not only a minimalist masterpiece of visual art but also a philosophical work that could be interpreted on various levels and challenged the very nature of perception itself.
The film tells the story of an apparent murder of a Samurai and rape of his wife by a local and famous, vicious bandit named Tajomura. The tale is told from the perspective of all parties involved, in the local police courtyard and each retelling of the events are completely different from the others. The story begins on a rainy day as three men gather under an old ruined gate house identified only by a single sign reading, Rashomon. Two men, known only as the wood cutter and the priest, seem perturbed by some recent events. A commoner arrives and wishes to know why they look so glum. As the he breaks wood from the ruins to light a fire he insists and taunts the two men until they tell their story. The two, clearly shaken men then proceed to tell the commoner of a tale most foul. The woodcutter claims that three days ago he found the body of the victim and upon its discovery fled to find the authorities. The priest next claims that he had met the travelling couple on the same day the murder happened.
Kurosawa cleverly brings us to the courtyard where we learn the bandit had been captured on a near by beach because the horse he had stolen from the nobleman threw him from its back. We are now introduced to the bandit in person and witness an unforgettable character. He is wild, out of control and laughs constantly like an insane person. As the bandit tells his side of the story Kurosawa makes clever use music to add in a somewhat formalist approach to the unfolding of the tale. As the bandit lies sleeping on the side of a road a Samurai passes by accompanied by his wife sitting on top of a large horse. The music is set to a rhythmical pace almost like a kind of docile marching sound, as the bandit slyly peers through one eye; he sees the woman and decides he must have her. He tricks the Samurai into leaving his wife by the road so he can lead him to a cache of ancient and very valuable swords he has found and hidden in the mountain woodlands. He wrestles the Samurai, overcoming him and ties him to a tree then returns to summon the wife. The woman tries to defend herself at first but when eventually caught, in view of her husband, she was seduced by the bandit. It does seem however that the woman had plenty of opportunity to escape and when the bandit finally catches her we are shown the sunlight break through the treeline as she seems to almost completely give herself to the bandit. It is, like many aspects of the film, unclear as to what Kurosawa meant by this symbolic break through of light. When he is finished she begs the bandit to fight her husband to the death so as she will not have to live with the shame of two men knowing her dishonour. He frees the Samurai and thus they duel. In his retelling the bandit and the Samurai both fought like great warriors but the bandit does indeed triumph. The woman runs away and when he is finished telling his side of the story he is asked about the expensive dagger the woman left behind. He replies that he was foolish to have forgotten about it but he was satisfied enough as it was.
The woman tells her side next and claims that after being raped by the bandit he left her wallow in her own self pity and ran away. When she approached her husband for more pity he glares at her with a deep blackening stare as if he is cutting her soul in two. She begs him to beat her then releases him holding her dagger out insisting he kills her. She then passes out and when she awakens her husband is dead, the dagger having been thrust into his chest. Again at this point Kurosawa makes use of music to add an almost drained or hopelessly lost tone to the piece. She then claims she tried to drown herself in a nearby pool but failed.
We next hear a completely different side of the story from the Samurai himself, told through a medium. The film shifts tone at this point as the medium adds a rather eerie and disturbing effect to the film. The medium is a woman but yet when she channels the Samurai’s spirit her voice is that of the samurai himself with some added effects to make it seem as if he is indeed speaking from beyond the grave. This scene is cleverly shot with the Samurai placed in depth at the background of the shot to emphsise his helplessness and isolation from the events. The dead man claims that after she was raped the bandit asked her to travel with him; she agreed but in turn begs the bandit to kill her husband. Honourably the bandit then asks the Samurai if he would like him to kill the woman and that he would never allow a woman of such distaste travel with him. She manages to escape and runs away. The bandit then frees the Samurai and flees himself. So distraught by the horrible events that have happened the Samurai kills himself with his own dagger.
The story shifts to the present again and the woodcutter is shown to be greatly upset by each account of the incident. It becomes apparent that he had lied to the authorities and was in fact, present through the whole ordeal, watching hidden from behind a nearby bush. He claims that after the bandit raped the woman he begged her to marry him. Saying it was not her decision she ran and freed the Samurai. It was clear that the woman wished the men to duel to the death for her but the Samurai insists that he was unwilling to die for such a woman and he was more upset over the loss of his horse than the loss of his wife. The bandit now seems to lose all interest in the woman and turns to leave with a rather confused look on his face. The woman continues to weep uncontrollably and tries to follow him but he insists she doesn’t follow him. When the Samurai yells at the woman to stop weeping the bandit tells him to stop bullying her because she is a woman and women can’t help it. The following few minutes are among the most disturbing of the whole film. The woman breaks out into a fit of ghastly uncontrollable laughter as she taunts both men, questioning their manhood. She claims that her husband is not a real man because he will not fight for her honour and that the bandit is no better because he is only half heartedly a bandit and lost his interest in an instant. She coaxes the men into a fight but from her expression we clearly see that she regrets this decision as soon as the duel begins. The men engage in a pathetic struggle and Tajomaru wins the battle but it is by no means honourable. He kills the samurai in cold blood as he is attempting to flee into the bushes. The woman screams in horror at the sight of her husband’s death and flees into the forest. Tajomaru limps away and the scene ends.
As we are brought yet again back to the gatehouse the woodcutter’s story is (although at an end) interrupted by the sound of a baby crying. The three men search the ruins and find an abandoned baby nearby. The commoner steals the baby’s clothes and a valuable ruby that is protecting it. The woodcutter protests but as he does the commoner demands to know what happened to the Samurai’s expensive knife. When quizzed the woodcutter is stumped for words and the commoner realizes that the woodcutter himself is a thief and that is why he did not come forth to the authorities with his version of the story. The commoner states that all men are selfish and that all men are only looking out for themselves and leaves laughing just like we saw the bandit at the beginning of the film. The priest, disturbed by all the lies and misleading, seems to be losing his faith in humanity, holds onto the baby comforting it as best as he can. When the woodcutter tries to take the child from him he shouts for him to leave as he is upset that the man not only lied but is indeed a thief. When the woodcutter replies that he has six children of his own at home and he is sorry for his mistakes the priest claims that his faith in humanity has been restored and he hands the child over. The men bow and the woodcutter leaves with the baby cradled in his arms. As he leaves with the priest still in view behind him the rain has stopped and he has a smile on his face.
Kurosawa’s influence of silent film and modern art can clearly be seen in Rashomon. He realised that sound added a great many complexities to film and had to be managed with great care. Every sound effect and piece of music plays as important a part in the telling of the story as does each line of dialogue. Kurosawa uses very minimalist sets which are clearly seen in the police courtyard as we only see the wall behind the witnesses. He also never includes any shots of the interrogating police or even includes any of their dialogue which only adds to his chosen approaches effect.
There are numerous very intelligent shot compositions and combinations of shots used to great effect in Rashomon and a lot of greys in the black and white photography. In one scene we see simultaneous close ups of the bandit, the wife and the Samurai symbolising the triangular relationship between the three characters. It was also the first film to shoot directly into the sun and when the natural light was not strong enough Kurosawa insisted on using mirrors to reflect even more light onto the characters. The rain in the film was tinted slightly black because the lenses could not pick up the water droplets without adding dye. There are some beautiful camera movements particularly as we follow the woodcutter through the forest at the beginning of the film including several aesthetically pleasing tracking shots that look upward through the canopy of trees, again some pointing directly into the sun. Some have claimed that the film is an allegory of Japans defeat in World War 2, but its source material, a short story named “In a Grove” by Ryunosuke Akutagawa predates the film adaptation by twenty eight years.
Music is frequently used throughout the film to help depict certain aspects of the story and is used as a sort of onomatopoeic tool to emphasise emotion, hostility and movement. The rain plays an important part in setting the subdued mood at the beginning of the film and indeed throughout the story as it breaks away from the recounting of the distorted tale and brings us back to the present, to the three men. It acts as a rest from the lies of the three involved parties while giving a somewhat tranquil feeling to the present in order for us to think about what we have just been told.
Rashomon is undoubtedly one of the most influential Japanese films of all time having spawned an American remake, The Outrage by Martin Ritt 1964, and lending its structure to many more films over the years. Films noted to have either been directly influenced by Rashomon or indeed borrowed from it’s narrative include, The Usual Suspects, Vantage point, Basic and even the animated retelling of the Little Red Riding Hood story Hoodwinked.
