Red Beard (Akahige, 1965)
Kurosawa Akira
Japan
185 mins, black and white, Japanese (English subtitles)
If there ever was a film that reminded me of Dostoevsky, then RED BEARD is the one. It is a film of becomings, of realization of one's own place in this world as revealed through seemingly unrelated incidents, and of dissatisfaction with the comfortable, but erroneous, ideas of the good that we hold dear. In spite of its didacticism at time, the film draws careful, but ultimately unclear, distinctions between good and evil. As in many other works, Kurosawa depicts a hell on earth, in which goodness is the only weapon against the wretchedness of existence. But this is no ordinary goodness, it is not for meek Good Samaritans to have it; it is a rage against the bad: the brutality, and the nastiness of the lives of the poor.
At the end of the Tokugawa period, the young doctor Yasumoto (Yuzo Kayama), fresh out of the Dutch medical school at Nagasaki, ends up at a godforsaken country clinic against his wishes. The place is run by the dictatorial doctor Kyojio Niide (Toshiro Mifune), commonly known as "Red Beard," whom the arrogant youth quickly comes to resent and despise. With sights set as high as the Shogun's court, nursing the impoverished sick is the last thing on Yasumoto's mind. When he is nearly killed by an insane patient, however, he begins to question his integrity (as he allowed himself to be seduced by the story of the mad woman, played superbly by Kyoko Kagawa) and decides to lend a hand at the clinic. His life immediately goes into high gear and he encounters the depth of suffering and misery the likes of which he has not even imagined.
Kurosawa tells several unrelated stories that all serve as vehicles for the transformation of the main characters. There's the story of the woman who was forced to marry her mother's lover. Then there is the sadly beautiful story of Sahachi (Tsutomu Yamazaki) and Onaka (Miyuki Kuwano). This narrative, told in elaborate flashbacks, is one of the most touching in the film. The painful happiness is overwhelming, just like the accidental meeting of the now separated lovers, and the resolute end, to which Onaka brought her life. This scene has got to be one of the most poetic suicides ever filmed. Through his learning of these lives, Yasumoto slowly comes to realize that the only good is living for the sake of others. Thus, when his own challenge comes, he is more or less prepared to take it on.
Otoyo (Terumi Niki) is an abused twelve-year old girl, whom Red Beard rescues from a teahouse. She has only seen terrifying cruelty, and she cannot even communicate with people. She is so far gone spiritually, that she does not understand kindness and treats it with suspicion and anger. It is trying for Yasumoto, and not until Dr. Niide demonstrates that fortitude and patience can overcome any barrier, does he scrape up enough courage to do what is right. His awakening, which immediately throws him into physical sickness, is an opportunity for the girl to heal emotionally as she tends to him. The convalescence produces a new doctor and a new life in Otoyo. Eventually, Yasumoto turns his back on his plans for glorious, but empty, future at the Shogun's Court, and stays on with Dr. Niide at the poor clinic, the place where he is needed most.
Even though I should not call this film a tearjerker, I was weeping within the first half hour. Kurosawa's kindness and humanism shine through even the darkest moments of this film, and this faith is so touching, it is irresistible. I detect and hate sappy sentimentality fairly easily, and it is hard to make a dramatic statement without lapsing into some cliché about the plight of the common folk. At the beginning, it appeared as if the director was going to deliver some stale sermon about the poor people (he's been known to do that) and the lack of societal responsibility in caring for them (he's been known for that as well). There are times where the dialogue is quite blunt, but the movie is not a piece of Communist propaganda. It is a voyage of self-discovery driven by the horror and the goodness of the life and people around. It is tempting to over-characterize Dr. Niide, or compare the film to other similar (and lesser) fare, but despite the title, Red Beard is not the protagonist, he is just the beacon. He is an opportunity for Yasumoto to grow up, a process, which Dr. Niide himself acknowledges as quite painful.
The cinematography is meticulous, the sets are so elaborate, that in the two years of filming, some parts never even made it to film. There are many poignant scenes in RED BEARD but two stick out in my mind. One (actually, a few) is the flashback of Sahachi's story, especially when Onaka walks away from him after their accidental encounter. The pain was palpable, and yet had a dreamy quality that made one feel as if this was not the end of it. Of course, as I mentioned, her suicide via embrace was stunning. The other beautiful scene was when the cooks and Otoyo were shouting into the well, hoping to bring back Choji's (Yoshitaka Zushi) soul before it left the world forever. It was both frightening and touching. Perhaps not surprisingly, their faith was rewarded. This film is a masterpiece.
April 30, 2001. BLS