| Without a doubt,
Ikiru is my favorite Toho film,
Kurosawa film and film altogether. Only two
films have actually had me seriously reflecting
on life, existence and humanity. The first is
this film; the second is Ghost
in the Shell 2: Innocence
(2004). Ikiru surpasses genius in nearly
all areas. The story is both brilliant and poetic;
the acting is extraordinary as is the character
development and the score works brilliantly with
the film.
The story revolves around Kanji
Watanabe, a man who has basically sold his soul
to Japan's postwar bureaucratic system. His life
is devoid of any major accomplishments, save for
perhaps the fact he’s never taken a day
off work for nearly 30 years.
Watanabe, who has been feeling
strange lately, goes to see a doctor. In the waiting
room, a patient chats with him a little about
stomach cancer. The symptoms the patient describes
perfectly coincide with those of Watanabe. According
to the patient, he has no more than a year to
live.
Shocked, Watanabe returns home
and reflects on his son, Mitsuo, who has married,
grown apart from him and is planning to obtain
a large sum of money from him to buy a better
house. Watanabe realizes that this is partially
his own fault, since a majority of his time was
spent toiling away in the office and not with
his child.
Watanabe draws a large sum of money
from his bank account and heads to a local bar,
planning to drink himself to death. There, he
meets a writer who, feeling pity for the man,
takes him for a night on the town. The two visit
various nightclubs and bars and there, Watanabe
discovers things and feelings previously alien
to him.
Kanji soon encounters Toyo Odagiri,
a former co-worker of his. Her happy, carefree
personality hits a chord in him and he takes her
out to various places, worrying Mitsuo and his
wife, Kazue, who fear that a woman in their father’s
life would interfere with their obtaining his
inheritance. Toyo soon grows tired of Kanji and
almost disgusted with him. On their last night
out, Watanabe reveals to her his secret and asks
her what he should do with the time he has left.
At Toyo’s suggestion that he make something,
Watanabe realizes what he must do: devote his
time to the construction of a children’s
park desired by the public, but doing this requires
going up against his fellow bureaucrats and their
soulless system.
The story is absolutely wonderful,
allowing no points for the audience to lose interest.
From the beginning, it sucks you into its world,
allowing you to feel like you’re actually
in the film discovering the beauty of life along
with Watanabe, but also feeling his pain like
it was your own. There are plenty of emotional
moments as well. The scene in the nightclub where
Watanabe requests an old song from his youth,
only to find it holds a great significance, is
the closest I’ve come to crying in a movie.
The acting is beyond superb. Takashi
Shimura gives the performance of his career,
portraying everything about his character perfectly:
his awkward speech patterns and movements, his
soulless, almost chilling facial expressions and
of course, his grief. The rest of the actors do
exceptionally well with their roles as well. Miki
Odagiri coveys Toyo’s cheery personality
flawlessly without being too over the top, as
does Yunosuke Ito, who could have been hard to
take seriously in the scenes when he’s drunk,
but yet manages to stay classy, yet still be humorous.
Nobuo Kaneko and Kyoko Seki do a wonderful job
portraying their selfish characters, Mitsuo and
Kazue Watanabe. The performances allow us to dislike
them, but not despise them as they portray a kind
of humanity. The rest of the cast all do commendable
jobs. There’s not one bad performance.
Like most of Kurosawa’s films,
Ikiru is chock full of character development.
Kanji Watanabe is a fantastic, multi-layered character
and perhaps Kurosawa’s ultimate hero, conquering
not a horde of bandits or gangs, but himself,
life and the system, which is in my eyes, a greater
achievement. He starts out an empty shell, but
slowly evolves into a hero, shedding his old persona
(symbolized by his new hat) and achieving a perfect
understanding of life and how to live it, conveyed
in his final scene on the swing. The supporting
cast is given a good chunk of development as well.
Toyo Odagiri is a sort of anomaly among the bureaucrats,
possessing, unlike them, personality and a cheery
outlook on life. The character isn’t one
note though; she takes a serious turn in the last
50 minutes of the film. Mitsuo and Kazue Watanabe
function pretty much as a single entity, but are
still greatly fleshed out. Both are selfish and
ungrateful to their father for the things he’s
sacrificed for them: women, time and ultimately,
his own soul. Their motivation for obtaining Watanabe’s
inheritance though, is perfectly reasonable, bringing
an extra dimension to the characters. The author
is more of a plot device than a character, taking
Watanabe out and allowing him to truly live for
the first time, but he still is given a bit of
development, feeling pity and great respect for
Watanabe, whose plight causes the author to rethink
his own life.
Fumio
Hayasaka’s score, like most of his others,
is unmemorable but works perfectly as an enhancer.
The Life is Brief song however, is absolutely
brilliant, with its somber melody and lyrics that
touched my very soul. The rest of the themes serve
to enhance emotions in the viewer triggered by
the film, elevating the dread when Watanabe discovers
he has cancer, the sorrow when he reflects on
his son and the energy and humor when Watanabe
and the author visit various nightclubs.
Ikiru for me is one of
those films that transcends art and becomes a
reflection of life itself, forcing me to contemplate
my existence. What minor flaws are present in
the film are more than compensated for by the
poetic story, brilliant acting, well rounded characters
and well done score. I ask, no, beg anyone who
reads this review to somehow get a hold of a copy
of Ikiru, I guarantee it will have you
thinking for days. |
(5/5)