Why Akira Kurosawa’s Ran remains one of cinema’s… | Little White Lies

In Praise Of

Why Aki­ra Kurosawa’s Ran remains one of cinema’s great epics

23 Mar 2016

Words by Oscar Rickett

Rolling hills covered in lush, dark green vegetation with splashes of red accents in the foreground.
Rolling hills covered in lush, dark green vegetation with splashes of red accents in the foreground.
The Japan­ese director’s bleak and beau­ti­ful 1985 film returns to cinemas.

Tak­en from the Japan­ese word for tur­moil’, Ran unfolds slow­ly over the best part of three hours. Its sto­ry is grand but its plot is rel­a­tive­ly sim­ple. It is Aki­ra Kurosawa’s epic retelling of William Shakespeare’s King Lear’, inter­wo­ven with the his­to­ry of Japan’s 16th cen­tu­ry Civ­il Wars and the leg­end of Morikawa, a feu­dal war­lord who had three sons as opposed to Lear’s three daugh­ters. Hideto­ra, the Lear fig­ure, gives up his pow­er and divides his king­dom among his prog­e­ny. Tur­moil ensues.

In its new­ly restored 4k for­mat, Ran is return­ing to cin­e­mas this month to coin­cide with Shakespeare’s 400th anniver­sary. It is Kurosawa’s final mas­ter­piece, a stun­ning med­i­ta­tion on mankind’s capac­i­ty for relent­less destruc­tion made by a 75-year old direc­tor who had come to feel pro­found­ly trou­bled by the world around him, had tried to kill him­self a decade ear­li­er and who was strug­gling to finance his films.

Man is born cry­ing. When he has cried enough, he dies,” observes Kyoa­mi, the fool. Like his Shake­speare­an coun­ter­part, he remains by his king’s side and has all the best lines. A kind of dis­tressed nihilism runs through the film. Walk­ing through a land­scape of ash and smoke, Kyoami’s mas­ter Hideto­ra, old and strick­en, turns to him and says, I am lost”. Such is the human con­di­tion,” comes Kyoami’s reply. It’s a seri­ous line but also one of the film’s few jokes.

These obser­va­tions sit per­fect­ly with­in the epic frame­work of the film. With a bud­get of $12 mil­lion, Ran was Kurosawa’s most expen­sive film and was, at the time, the most expen­sive Japan­ese movie ever made. Every aspect of the film is grand: the ideas, the emo­tions, the aes­thet­ic and even the move­ment of the actors, which is pro­nounced and delib­er­ate, indica­tive of some over­rid­ing trait pos­sessed by the char­ac­ter they are playing.

It is also a film unafraid to deal with the kinds of ques­tions his­toric writ­ers since Homer have grap­pled with, par­tic­u­lar­ly humanity’s seem­ing­ly end­less capac­i­ty for self-destruc­tion. This could eas­i­ly have led to a pon­der­ous, pompous or sim­ply flat piece of work. Mod­ern day block­busters, many of which owe so much to Ran, so often fall into this trap. They have all the visu­al grandeur with­out the intel­lec­tu­al weight.

Ran has Shake­speare at its source and is dri­ven not just by the stag­ger­ing beau­ty of its images but by the all-encom­pass­ing tragedy of its sto­ry. There is no easy get-out for the view­er either, no reas­sur­ing sal­va­tion. The amoral­i­ty of the film reflects the amoral­i­ty of life. We don’t leave the cin­e­ma feel­ing like we’ve been giv­en a nice com­fort­ing shot of cul­tur­al opi­um, but instead star­ing into the dark heart of humanity.

By the mid-’80s, Kuro­sawa was prac­ti­cal­ly blind. A painter before he turned film­mak­er, the Japan­ese auteur drew and paint­ed thou­sands of images to show his team what he want­ed Ran to look like. This process trans­fers to the expe­ri­ence of watch­ing the film, which at times feels clos­er to perus­ing tra­di­tion­al Japan­ese paint­ing or Euro­pean impres­sion­ists and expres­sion­ists in the ever-mov­ing halls of a gallery. This expe­ri­ence recalls, in its more pas­toral, Euro­pean moments, Kubrick’s com­po­si­tions in Stan­ley Kubrick’s Bar­ry Lyn­don. In the bat­tle scenes, the colour, smoke, scale and weapon­ry are rem­i­nis­cent of direc­tor Sergei Bondarchuk’s Waterloo.

For the war­riors of Ran, there is the hope of some kind of glo­ry in bat­tle, fol­lowed by an hon­ourable death, though a dev­as­tat­ing twist calls this into ques­tion, act­ing like a punch to the stom­ach. The fate of those out­side the army is sug­gest­ed by Tsu­ru­maru, a char­ac­ter who has been left blind and alone by Hidetora’s war­mon­ger­ing. He has long hair and del­i­cate fea­tures. He is vul­ner­a­ble, as we all are, to the dev­as­ta­tion of the world around us. Shorn of his final pro­tec­tion, a pic­ture of the Bud­dha, we last see him tee­ter­ing on the edge of a precipice. In this world, we are alone, we can­not see. The Bud­dha has no place in these lands.

Ran is released in the UK on 1 April and will be avail­able on DVD and Blu-ray from 2 May. To find out where the film is screen­ing near you vis­it inde​pen​dentcin​e​maof​fice​.org​.uk

You might like

Accessibility Settings

Text

Applies the Open Dyslexic font, designed to improve readability for individuals with dyslexia.

Applies a more readable font throughout the website, improving readability.

Underlines links throughout the website, making them easier to distinguish.

Adjusts the font size for improved readability.

Visuals

Reduces animations and disables autoplaying videos across the website, reducing distractions and improving focus.

Reduces the colour saturation throughout the website to create a more soothing visual experience.

Increases the contrast of elements on the website, making text and interface elements easier to distinguish.