RAN (1985) — Chaos is Inherited from One Generation to the Next
(This review was written as a report in my East Asian Cinema class, so certain restrictions apply.)
In its day, Akira Kurosawa’s RAN (1985) was the most expensive Japanese film ever made. The film was based on Shakespeare’s King Lear; his third Shakespeare adaptation after Throne of Blood (1957) was based on Macbeth, and The Bad Sleep Well (1960) was based on Hamlet. In this film, he tells of an aging warlord named Hidetora (Tatsuya Nakadai) in feudal Japan, heavily inspired by Mōri Motonari, who, as a final act, divides his kingdom among his two eldest sons, his third and youngest being exiled after disrespecting his wishes. Hidetora has lived a life of destruction over his land, having overthrown others to build his kingdom. Now, in his old age, he is powerless as his sons go to war to seize power over the kingdom, and he must confront the ghosts of his past created by the chaos he inflicted during his rule.
Although the film was inspired by Shakespeare and feudal Japanese warlords, it was as much about Kurosawa himself during one of the darkest periods in his life. In hindsight, he is seen as a legend of cinema; however, his golden years were from 1950–1965, during which he made many of his greatest works, including Rashomon (1950), Ikiru (1952), Seven Samurai (1954), and Yojimbo (1961), to name a few. From 1965–1985, he only made four films. Kurosawa found himself ousted by the Japanese film industry as he was considered old-fashioned amidst the evolving landscape. His attempt at creating an independent production with Dodes’ka-den (1970) flopped, and a year later, he attempted suicide. During the production of RAN, he found himself at a point in his life where the people he knew were dying, including his wife of 39 years, Yōko Yaguchi. As the story goes, he took one day off to mourn her death and returned to work the next day, having not missed a single day of production afterward.
Kurosawa’s desperate grip on his remaining life is felt in this film. Hidetora knows he has more years behind him than ahead of him, so he attempts to make peace with his remaining time. In a tragic twist of fate, the same destruction he enacted to build his peaceful kingdom transcends to the next generation as his two eldest sons, Taro (Akira Terao) and Jiro (Jinpachi Nezu), wage war and ultimately destroy the kingdom. Hidetora’s descent into madness is haunting, and anyone who watches the film isn’t likely to forget the images of his shell-shocked face as white as a ghost, combined with a kabuki-like acting style where the expressions are gigantic. In some ways, his descent into madness is almost comical, such as when his fool Kyoami (Pîtâ) tells him to jump off a cliff, and he does. However, the tragedy comes through because it reflects the sad nature of humanity and having to face the end of mortality, as Kurosawa was facing at this point.
Kurosawa is legendary for his staging and framing of action and movement. Many books have been written about his techniques, but what separates RAN from previous efforts is his approach to the action. At this time, Kurosawa was losing his eyesight, and in a sense, this blindness translates into the film’s visual landscape. Smoke emanating from fire and guns fills the air, and the land turns grey like ashes. This is contrasted with the earlier images of these vast, beautiful landscapes of green hills and forests high on the mountaintops. The colors vibrate strongly, especially with the costume design by Emi Wada, who would go on to create extravagant costumes for other films such as Hero (2002) and House of Flying Daggers (2004). The longer the film goes, the more these colors become the most prominent feature in the images, and in turn, it signals to us that death and chaos are overtaking the land and its inhabitants.
The first battle scene, where Taro and Jiro’s armies invade Hidetora’s castle, perfectly demonstrates Kuroswa’s literal and figurative viewpoint. The shot compositions are kept very simple so that through all of the chaos with dark greys overtaking the land and castle, we can’t focus on the details except for the colors. We see the yellow and red flags of the soldiers and the blood-soaked terrain as people die. All the while, instead of listening to the diegetic world, it becomes silenced, drowned out by the haunting score by Tōru Takemitsu. These are abstract expressions, of course, but what we feel is what’s most important; the death and decay of one era of peace and the dawning of a new era ruled by maniacal power.
Compared to Shakespeare’s King Lear, RAN deviates in many distinct ways. Critic Stanley Kauffmann says the change is from the spiritual to the physical, whereas Anthony Davies says the shift is from the past to the future. “Kurosawa’s insistence on giving his characters and their motivations a past does shift substantially the dramatic focus of RAN,” says Davies, “The action as it develops is consistently rooted in the past. In King Lear, the concentration of dramatic development, commencing with the king’s urge for his daughters to endorse formally their love for him, thrusts forward into the future.” (Davies 23). In his attempt to create peace, Hidetora created destruction and brought pain upon others to build his kingdom. Now, with his sons betraying him in the act of attaining power, he faces the same terror he inflicted so long ago.
Two central side characters exemplify the pain Hidetora’s rule brought; Lady Kaede (Mieko Harada) and Tsurumaru (Mansai Nomura). As we’re told, Lady Kaede was the daughter of a lord conquered by Hidetora and is now made to be a wife to the eldest son Taro in the castle her family once ruled. She, quite literally, has a craving for blood to exact vengeance for what became of her family. Her character seems more reminiscent of Lady Macbeth with her violent and manipulative ways. Tsurumaru, on the other hand, doesn’t get the luxury of being a vengeful player because he was blinded as a boy by Hidetora. His sister believes in the ideals taught by Buddha and persists him to believe as well, but as much as he tries, he cannot rid himself of hatred. Between these two characters, there are physical and spiritual forces that arise out of Hidetora’s past actions.
Ultimately, the sad truth RAN demonstrates is how men and women may die, but war and chaos never will. In one moment toward the end of the film, a character chastises the Gods above for allowing these atrocities to exist, to which another character shoots him down for blasphemy. The Gods don’t laugh at our suffering; they weep for us. They give us everything we need, but humanity would rather create suffering over peace, as it has been since the beginning of humankind. In creating suffering or peace through wars and violence, innocent people get caught in the slaughter as destruction is inherited from one generation to the next. If the final image of the film tells us anything, it’s that we are all blindly walking into the abyss ever so gently, left with the harrowing truth that the forces of nature and human nature will destroy us.
For Kurosawa, RAN was a film to save his life at a point when he needed it as he faced his own darkness. Initially, he intended it to be his final film, but in the years that followed, he would make three more: Dreams (1990), Rhapsody in August (1991), and Madadayo (1993), all of which vary in quality. It could be argued he should’ve gone out with RAN, but I won’t criticize him for it. If anything, I’m nothing but grateful that he was able to create one more masterpiece before all was lost.