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Rashomon, directed by Akira Kurosawa, is considered one of the greatest films ever made.
What is so great about Rashomon?
I grade a film on four criteria. These are:
- Technical artistry
- Storytelling artistry
- Entertainment and
- Art
A film must ace all four to be great. If you want to know the details of what makes a film read this:
Technical artistry
Rashomon was a breath of fresh air to world cinema. Before it, not many film snobs respected films from Asia. Rashomon showed what directors beyond Hollywood and Europe could achieve; that you could tell a story in a different way.
There were many innovations in Rashomon. The most popular, and probably the least important, is that it is widely regarded as the first film in which the camera was pointed at the sun. It’s not an exposure challenge, because anyone with a camera can expose the sun. Photochemical film was extremely combustible, and old film still is. You could ruin your film and your health, so it was rarely attempted.
Kurosawa had many films as director under his belt, so he knew he could experiment a bit and burn a few cameras without getting fired.
Lighting-wise, the dappled lighting that’s so consistent across Rashomon is extremely hard to achieve. Cinematographer Kazuo Miyagawa used large mirrors to reflect sunlight, because nothing else could provide that much light for the lens aperture they were working with. There were no HMI’s in those days, and Rashomon was mostly shot in a real forest for budgetary reasons. The studio financed this crazy experiment because his earlier films were hits, but they weren’t that suicidal with their money.
The amount of effort that went into positioning and repositioning those mirrors with the wind blowing through the forest is well documented. That’s the kind of director Kurosawa was, a perfectionist.
The dappled light brings a magical feel to the entire forest, as if the characters are deep in its clutches and can’t escape. The forest is all around them, like a dream, and this feeling can’t be shaken off.
Contrast that to the courtyard scenes in open daylight with the sky clear and visible. This is where the truth might be revealed. What truth? I’ll talk about that a bit later.
Kurosawa and Miyagawa employed deep focus in Rashomon. Most everything in the frame is in focus. Later in his career Kurosawa moved towards telephoto lenses, but for most of Rashomon, it was the standard set of focal lengths you’d have found in most films. I‘ve explained this in greater detail in my video on the lenses Akira Kurosawa used. You’ll find it in Wolfcrow Lifetime Access (members only):
The next big innovation was the rain. Kurosawa drained all the water they had ordered in testing alone, so they had to get water from a nearby reservoir. They mixed black paint with the water so you could see the raindrops on camera. Otherwise, the drops wouldn’t really be visible. Using large black droplets sells the effect of a terrible downpour as if you’re witnessing the real thing. It starts off Rashomon with a bang and you know you’re watching something special.
Wind and rain were Kurosawa staples. He uses them not just for effect but also as a storytelling device. E.g., the bandit blames the breeze for what he did later that day.
The production design was sparse but important. The broken gate, named “Rashomon”, was an extant gate at the time that was referenced and reconstructed for the film. It was built during the Heian period and fell into ruin in the 12th century, which is the period the film is set in.
Kurosawa could have really used any era for this story, but he deliberately sets it in a period of turmoil and chaos where man has to be constantly on guard against his fellow men. You can’t trust anybody, and that is the very core of Rashomon.
Storytelling artistry
Rashomon is a story of a rape and murder. There are four witnesses – a woodcutter, a Samurai, his wife and a bandit.
Here’s the problem. Their stories don’t match. The murderer changes identity depending on whose story we’re watching. This phenomenon is something police officers face daily in a crime scene with witnesses. It’s hard for people to agree on the details, even the most obvious ones. Today, the name for this problem is the “Rashomon effect” – the unreliability of witnesses.
Rashomon is structured as a murder mystery. I got a bit cheeky a few years ago and found a solution to the mystery. I made a video about it, and also explained the importance of Rashomon as a work of art. You’ll find it in Wolfcrow Lifetime Access (members only):
Back to the story. Whom do we believe? Every story is plausible, because all we can do is depend on the accounts of each eye witness. This means the actors playing those roles must be terrific, and they are. Toshiro Mifune is at his best here. He had to add layers and slight changes to his character depending whose point of view is being told. To many he was the standout.
To me, though, I was mesmerized most by the work of Machiko Kyô. Not only does she stand toe to toe with Mifune, I believe she outclasses him.
Editing is another incredible draw in Rashomon. Each story finds a different rhythm in the edit. What I’ll highlight here is pure Kurosawa.
Early in the film, he tricks the viewer into a trance-like state as Takashi Shimura, playing the woodcutter, walks into the forest. Without actually realizing it, we slip into a maze, and at the end of it we don’t remember how we got there. There are many shots in this montage, all meticulously planned and executed, including this long tracking shot.
The payoff comes later in another scene where the wife holds a knife, and is in a trance of her own – as she sways to and fro, from side to side. It’s an incredible scene, because once your attention is drawn to it, you can never unsee it.
I was lucky enough to watch Rashomon on the large screen, I was totally into it. I didn’t know one could use pure cinema to tell stories in powerful ways – and this scene in Rashomon is the amalgamation of all things great about pure cinema – cinematography, acting, music and editing. No dialogue.
There are many other examples. I’ll just one more that younger audiences might recognize. The Mexican stand-off, or any gunfight ever, is a core construct in Rashomon. It is displayed in many forms – almost always there’s anticipation and suspense, and it is all created by just cutting on the look – a popular editing concept Godard spoke about.
Entertainment
Rashomon is a thoroughly entertaining film. The murder mystery and fast pacing is great fun even today. A lot of people will be surprised to learn the average shot length in Rashomon is shorter than the average at the time. It’s closer to how films are paced today. It’s re-watchable not only for its finer points but also as a mystery you’ll be itching to solve.
It did well in Japan on release and made money for the studio. So the experiment paid off. It also established Kurosawa as a director to watch, and it propelled his career to heights no other director has matched, artistically speaking of course.
Art
Which brings us to the question, is Rashomon art?
Kurosawa borrowed from two short stories to write Rashomon, but this union of sound and image won’t be found in any book.
When Kurosawa first presented his assistants with the script of Rashomon, they had no clue what it meant. Very few people thought it was going to turn out good, let alone great. They didn’t understand that words just tell a story, the director brings it to life.
That’s the hand of the artist. Like many of Kurosawa’s films, Rashomon is the perfect marriage of entertainment and art, which is why it is third on my list of 100 films to see before you die:
Thanks for this nice interpretation. This question was always haunting me ?….
You’re welcome!