Sunday, January 18, 2004
DVD ALERT: I got hooked on Japanese director Akira Kurosawa through Yojimbo, a gorgeously done action film which inspired the so-called "spaghetti Western" genre, but I kept hearing intriguing things about a film called Ikiru, which finally got it's American DVD release on January 6 (and means "to live", if you were wondering). It's the type of film that makes critics' polls constantly, but not the type that shows up at even the most open-midned Blockbuster, probably because it's a Japanese film without rubber monsters or wide-eyed cartoons with huge guns. That's okay, because if you bite the hook at all, you'll want to own a copy, so you can revisit it without having to hunt it down. It's not a slam-bang "flick" to rush through; at 140 minutes, I don't think taking it in a rush is even possible. Kurosawa takes his time telling his melancholy but ultimately life-affirming story of a terminally ill civil servant and his quest to do one important, lasting thing before he dies.
This is a theme that always resonates with me, especially when it's done with as much care and detail as it is here. I might have a different set of images to carry with me the next time I watch Ikiru, though. Not long after I got through the movie, a woman my mother worked with for years died on the job. They found her in her office fairly soon after she died, and it turned out she had known she had a terminal disease for quite awhile, but never told anybody. The year before, she had treated her entire family to a vacation, and in full hindsight it was obvious she wanted everybody do have one last happy memory of the family together.
When I heard this story, I kept thinking of Mr. Watanabe, the old man fighting the indifference around him and his weakening body to make something good happen in the world, instead of just making pieces of paper move around the office. It was a small thing he wanted to do, but it was something real. The next time I watch the film, I'll probably be thinking of that woman bringing her family together one last time, sharing that week in each other's company while they could.
A little maudlin, I know, but that's what happens at 4 am sometimes...
This is a theme that always resonates with me, especially when it's done with as much care and detail as it is here. I might have a different set of images to carry with me the next time I watch Ikiru, though. Not long after I got through the movie, a woman my mother worked with for years died on the job. They found her in her office fairly soon after she died, and it turned out she had known she had a terminal disease for quite awhile, but never told anybody. The year before, she had treated her entire family to a vacation, and in full hindsight it was obvious she wanted everybody do have one last happy memory of the family together.
When I heard this story, I kept thinking of Mr. Watanabe, the old man fighting the indifference around him and his weakening body to make something good happen in the world, instead of just making pieces of paper move around the office. It was a small thing he wanted to do, but it was something real. The next time I watch the film, I'll probably be thinking of that woman bringing her family together one last time, sharing that week in each other's company while they could.
A little maudlin, I know, but that's what happens at 4 am sometimes...
|| Eric 4:01 AM#
