Welcome to Stuff to Blow Your Mind, a production of iHeartRadio.
Hey you welcome to Weird House Cinema.
This is Rob Lamb and this is Joe McCormick. And today on Weird House Cinema, we're going to be talking about Akira Kurosawa's nineteen ninety anthology film Dreams, which is exactly what it says on the box. This is a collection of eight short vignettes that take the form of dreams and nightmares. I had never seen this film before this week when I picked it out for the show, and I love this movie. But if you watch it, you should know what you're getting into, especially if you've
liked other Corosawa movies. This is not Seven Samurai that's like, you know, a gripping, exciting story. This is a movie that really asks for your patients as an audience member. The pace is moody and slow. There is no central or overarching plot. There are some themes and character types that recur, but each of the eight short stories is essentially self contained, and they partake of extremely varied tones, settings, and pacing. Some of the stories are like a weird
kind of improvisational fairy tale. Some are frightening, baffling encounters with monstrous entities. Some are kind of idyllic meetings between a curious protagonist and a thoughtful character, and some are apocalyptic visions of a doomed earth. You really get all different kinds of dreams in this movie.
Yeah, Yeah, this is a great film. I'm so glad you picked this one, Joe. This is not a Chrosall film I'd ever seen either. Generally, I'd seen just a handful of his Samurai epics, Throne of Blood being from years back.
But it's of my favorites too.
Yeah, but I had not. I had not rewatched or watched any Krosawa recently, so it was great to dive into this one. And yeah, I absolutely agree. This movie is true to the title, just steeped in the texture of dream in a way that is I think, far far more sublime than the mere trappings of the cinematic
dream sequence. Curasawa, with signature excellence here generates a strong ambience of dreams, often, or at least it seems to me, with a one two punch of first intriguing monotony and then this emotional upwelling.
Oh yeah, I think I know what you mean that many of these stories have a kind of earlier middle section where something is kind of either slow and contemplative or frustratingly repetitive and monotonous, and then suddenly there is a breakthrough. There's some kind of catharsis where something of powerful emotional significance happens.
Yeah. Yeah, And I found this very very interesting and very true to my experiences with dreams and my recollection of my own dreams. Intriguing monotony. Here is not a dig at the picture or a kursawa. I think it's it's ultimately kind of a revelation that we see dreams presented in this manner, where like you know, generally our dream the dreams that we have night to night are not worthy of cinematic adaptation, but I think people may
recognize this basic form. Like I had this dream and I was like I was trying to put together some Ikia furniture and I couldn't put it together. And this just kept happening for what seemed like hours, and then my dad showed up and I had a conversation with my long deceased father, that sort of thing, you know, with so like a one two punch of monotony, lost in some sort of an environment or a situation that may not have anything that's really driving it forward, and
then there's some sort of emotional upwelling. It's almost like the dream is the garden of the subconscious, populated seemingly by weeds of various thoughts, memories, and observations, and then some powerful emotional resonance emerges through and into this dream garden, taking on its trapping.
I think that's a great way to put it. Yeah, a lot of these stories are like that.
Yeah, and that that emotional upwelling. It might be love, it might be fear, it might be regret. So in any way, what I'm trying to say is yes to all of that. Dreams is not a fast paced film. If you're more familiar with Chrosawa's action and drama films, this is a different beast. I also want to highlight that I watched this film with a fever. I'm I've just returned from some extensive travel and something came back with me, and this is a This is a good
fever film. I have to say. If you find yourself sort of drifting in and out, this is the perfect film to do it. There was a time or two where I caught myself falling asleep a little bit, which sometimes happens when you become horizontal and you watch films. But it's extra interesting with this picture because like Kurrasawa has already put you into the monotony of the dream sequence, you know, into the dream world, and so you find yourself slipping into that dream world for real.
I feel like all of them would be good to fall asleep and then wake up again, to accept Mount Fuji and Red. That one's got to be real tough to kind of suddenly realize what's going on.
Yeah, that one was, we'll get to that one. That one was the rougher one for me. But anyway, this is our first Karrosawa film on Weird House Cinema. We've of course mentioned him numerous times in passing on the show because, of course, a it's impossible to discuss Japanese
cinema without acknowledging a Kira Kurosawa. And you know, it's certainly the case too with something like a Godzilla film, even because those several of the Godzilla films we've talked about in the show were filmed by Ishil Hondakrasawa's friend and a frequent collaborator under tow Host Studios. And then on top of all of this, it's ultimately impop well to discuss cinema at all without eventually referencing Krosawa, as he's one of the most famed and influential filmmakers of all time.
Yeah. I would say the majority of his films, at least the ones I've seen, are not really in the weird house cinema space, and that I absolutely love them. But they're a little bit more straightforwardly realism bound, you know, they're often realistic period stories. They don't really get into the kind of weird genres we talk about, though there are some very weird things in Throne of Blood, even though it is basically a Macbeth adaptation.
Yeah, Throwing of Blood is the one that previously I considered that to be the Corosawa film we might get to. But this, I think was isn't even better fit for this.
Oh yeah, because obviously this is dreams, and what's weirder than dreams? I mean, dreams are dreams are the classic weird house cinema. Before there was cinema, there was the weird house cinema of the inner space.
That's true. Oh, by the way, this is a Cura Krosawa's Dreams, or sometimes just Dreams. It's often referenced by that title. Not to be confused with nineteen ninety five's Memories, an excellent animated anthology from Kutserhiro Otamo. These are two very different films, but I have caught myself on multiple occasions confusing the two titles in my mind. So I suspect I'm not alone here. Memories is anime and it's excellent.
It's also an anthology. This is live action and it's Corsawa, and it's also an anthology.
So I thought it might be good at the top here to go ahead and do a brief rundown of the eight different dreams in this movie, with like a one or two sentence summary of each, just so that we can refer back to them more easily as we go along, talking about the themes and the connections and stuff, and then we can talk about the plot in more detail later on. But okay, so the eight segments are.
The first one is called Sunshine through the Rain. In this one, a young boy wanders into the forest during a sunshower when it's raining, but the sun is shining against his mother's ad vice, and he witnesses the marriage ceremony of the fox spirits, which is something he should not have seen. This first segment may be my favorite segment of all. I'm really excited to talk more about it.
The second segment is the Peach Orchard. This takes place on a festival day in Japan called the Day of Hinomatsuri or the Dolls Day festival, sometimes the Girl's Day festival. On this day, a boy follows a spectral girl dressed in pink and white out to the terraces where a peach orchard used to grow, and the spirits of the now destroyed peach trees appear in the form of dolls and perform They talk to him, and they perform a
traditional dance. The third segment is called the Blizzard. In this segment, a group of four mountain climbers are struggling to reach camp in the middle of a terrible snowstorm, and the climbers they're overwhelmed by the snow. They begin to succumb to the cold, and their leader has a blood curdling vision of a snow witch. In the fourth
meant the tunnel. While walking home after the end of a war, presumably World War II, a Japanese military officer has to pass through a tunnel on a mountain road. There he meets first an angry dog strapped with explosives, and then a soldier, and then a company of soldiers who died under his command. The fifth segment crows. This one is more lighthearted. A painter is looking at the works of How are we going to say his name in this episode? I always Vincent the painter, Vincent van
goch or Vincent van Go. I'm just going to say van Go. I know that's not the correct original pronunciation. I'm sorry. That's how I always learned it when I was growing up the paintings of Vincent van Go. He looks at these paintings, he admires them, and then he sort of appears within the artistic world of van Go and then finally meets the artist and learns things about his vision and kind of interfaces with his view of art and the world. After that, we get a segment
called Mount fou and Red. This is where the terror really ramps up. Our Corrosawa surrogate here in many of these segments are probably in all of them, you can view the protagonist as some form of Kurusawa himself, either as a child or a sort of alternate life version of himself. In this segment, our surrogate finds himself in
a massive crowd of people fleeing a disaster. We see Mount Fuji in the distance appear glowing hot, framed by explosions, and then a man in a suit appears to explain that these explosions are caused by a meltdown at a nuclear power plant, and the people are being killed by clouds full of radioactive isotopes, and it just gets worse
from there. Next we have the Weeping Demon. In this segment, a man is climbing across a craggy, desolate landscape of rocks and gravel, and he encounters a monstrous man with a horn on his head. We learn that the man has been mutated by nuclear fallout, and against a backdrop of giant dandelions, he explains the cannibalistic hell of the radioactive desert, and then in the final segment, we get a rapid sort of down shift back into out of
all the horrors, into a more contemplative mode. This is a segment called the Village of the Watermills, where our Kurosawa protagonist kind of ambles into an idyllic rural village along a river and he meets a wise old man and observes the local customs.
I mean, no surprise, but Christawa really nailed it here with the order. It's just it's the perfect There's no other order for these sequences that would make sense.
I think you may have more to say about this because you were watching the documentary, But I have read that there were originally intended to be more dreams that appeared in the film, but the segments got paired back as production went along, in some cases, I think at the writing stage. In some cases after some things were shot. But you know, whatever the original intentions, it does feel complete and cohesive to me with this set of aid even though I now know there were originally going to
be more. This just feels right. Somehow it got to the right place.
Yeah, And from what I understand of Krisawa's approach to filmmaking, this seems to line up with the way he approached things like you just sort of fine tune it as you go, and then the eventual final form presents itself to you, and in that case, these are the segments, and this is the ore.
That's interesting, And this might not actually be a contradiction, but I've always read about Kurrasawa as a very meticulously planning in advance kind of filmmaker that like he can sort of see all the shots in his head ahead of time, and he sort of is editing in his mind ahead of time. Have you read similar things?
Yeah, yeah, absolutely it was. I had not really consumed much about the man or his approach to filmmaking prior to checking out a couple of the documentaries on the Criterion collection disc for this film, which I'll reference here in a bit, But uh, there's a behind the scenes, some behind the scenes footage where you could see him in action shooting with the picture, and then there's a uh, there's a great twenty eleven documentary as well titled Kurrasawa's
Way that you know, gets into this a bit as well. And Yeah, one of the things that I found very interesting is that like he's apparently, you know, very much kind of a loner, a man of few words. There, you know, he would what he would say about his process and A and and certainly in his directorial approach was often succinct and to the point. But uh, but
he wasn't. He was admittedly like not somebody that would talk about theory a lot like it kind of like he sees it in his head, he knows exactly how he wants it to work, and then you know, some amount of experimentation finding that that form. But he's he's not spouting a lot of theory. He's not then doing a lot of a film theory analysis of what worked
and what didn't. And it's kind of left to all of the people that he influenced to come back and continually rewatch and describe exactly what he was doing.
Yeah, I was thinking about how, you know, sometimes people break down filmmakers into oh, I don't know, I guess the rough division would be like technical filmmakers versus humanistic filmmakers, those who are more concerned with the technical expression of
an artistic vision. You know, they're using their techniques and their skills to sort of put what they see in their head on the screen, versus the humanistic vision that is more concerned with themes and characters and film as narrative and film as kind of I don't know, an abstract product, something that you could explain and talk about and interpret the meaning of. And I think you could easily make the case that Corrusawa is very much both.
Like you could make the argument that he is one more than the other, but in both directions.
Yeah, yeah, like he has he certainly has all those technical abilities and those exceptional at them, but they're they're kind of they kind of almost seems like they're internalized to a degree to where it's like all this is going on inside. And again he's not discussing the theory of how it's all coming together, but it certainly comes together.
You know. I had typed up a list of themes I saw emerging in multiple segments of the film that I was maybe going to talk about here, but actually I think we should save that for later in the episode, after we talk about the plot in a little more detail, or the plots all right, So we would usually say an elevator pitch here, I think we've sort of already given it. It's Kira Kurosawa takes you on a tour of his dreams.
Yeah, I would also submit, oops, I had another dream.
They they do like there's a transition that often pops in to just say I had another dream.
All right, if you would like to watch Dreams the cure Crosawa's Dreams. Fortunately, this one's widely available, various streaming options out there. We can watch it digitally. I watched it on the Criterion Collection Blu Ray, which I written from Atlanta's own videodrome. Some excellent extras on this disc, as you'd expect, and I'll be referencing some of those. It's must purchase for anyone, or must rent for anyone who wants to go for a deeper dive into this movie.
As of this recording, the film is not on Criterion Channel, but as with any streaming service, titles come and go there. I don't know if that's simply the case, or it has something to do with the Warner Brothers aspect of this production. I'm not sure, but yeah, you can definitely get it on Criterion Collection, Blu ray or DVD, but it's not on Criterion Channel right now, all right?
Should we talk about the connections.
Yeah, let's get into it starting, I guess with Kira Kurosawa, the director and writer who lived nineteen ten through nineteen ninety eight, and I really have to preface here and say that it feels really challenging to do any sort of brief summary of such a cinematic icon. But you know, here it goes. This brief summary year based on some information that I read at the excellent Akira Kurosawa dot info page, which is really good, as well as the
extras on the disc that I just referenced. So, Krasawa was the youngest child and a moderately wealthy Japanese family descended from the former samurai class. His initial creative interest was painting, which is interesting given one of our segments in this film, but he followed his gifted older brother,
Hego in his passion for cinema. Hago worked as an on site silent film narrator or benshi at this time and apparently enjoyed some amount of success there, and as Akira lived with him at the time, he was able to gain entry into an array of films, plays, and circus performances, which he would later cite as being very
influential on his craft. Now, Hago's work dried up with the decline of silent films during the nineteen thirties, Akira moved back with his parents and two of his sisters, and Hago sadly died by suicide in nineteen thirty three. In nineteen thirty five, the Kurra Crosawa answered an advert in the newspaper from Photo Chemical Laboratories PCL. This is what would go on to become Toho Studios. They were seeking new assistant directors to engage in a mentor apprenticeship program,
and so Akira submitted an essay. I've read that it was kind of a cheeky submission where he's like, the prompt was something like what would you do to fix a Japanese cinema And he's like, it can't be fixed or something. I don't know, but at any rate he won them over. He received a callback, and he went on to work with numerous established and up and coming directors.
A special note his mentor, Kajiro Yamamoto. Kurosawa also took to screenwriting during this time, saw the value of that, and he served as a second unit or assistant director on numerous films and wrote screenplays for a handful of films before co writing and filming his first directorial effort with nineteen forty three's Sanshiro Sugata, a serious judo drama. I've not seen this one, but I've seen some clips from it, and they discussed it in the extras on
the disc. It would spawn a nineteen forty five sequel, which he also co wrote and directed. In the twenty eleven documentary Kursawa's Way on the Criterion Collection disc, they point out this picture's sublime portrayal of action. So it's a judo film. It's a wrestling picture, but like a serious one, not like a Santo picture or some of the latter, you know, Japanese pro wrestling of pictures and
so forth. But the action is really interesting because it has pointed out in this documentary, there's less of a focus on the actual grappling, or certainly the most impactful physical moments of the grappling war on audience responses, audio, emotional responses to the impact. So we won't actually see the impact. We'll see how people respond to it, and then we'll see sort of the results of that impact,
which is very interesting. So Kisawa's wartime work included propaganda films, which apparently also included, to varying degrees, the Judo Pictures, especially the sequel. His work during this time sometimes was seen as too Western by sensors, and his nineteen forty five film The Men Who Tread on the Tiger's Tail, a period piece, managed to run a foul of both imperial Japanese sensors and then subsequently American occupation sensors, for being in one case too democratic and then in the
other case too feudal. I guess this is often the case. If you're managing to piss everyone off, maybe you're doing something right.
Now.
We can't walk through every kisaw Will picture, but we might reasonably summarize his post post war work along the stepping stones of No Regrets for Our Youth in forty six, the award winning One Wonderful Sunday from forty six as Well, I Believe, and then nineteen forty eight Drunken Angel, considered by many to be his first major work and his first picture to feature Toshiro Mafuni, who Kurosawa would famously utilize in many of his masterpieces to come, including nineteen
fifties Raschaman, which earned him international acclaim, including recognition at the Academy Awards in nineteen fifty two, and from there, Kirasawa went on to write and direct some of the best regarded films in cinema history, including but not limited to, fifty four to seven Samurai, fifty seven's Throwne of Blood, fifty eight's The Hidden Fortress, sixty one's Yojimbo, sixty threes, High and Low, nineteen eighties Kejimusha, The Shadow Warrior, and
nineteen eighty five's Ron. These decades entailed various ups and down industry changes, some unsuccessful Hollywood projects, most notably Runaway Train, which would ultimately be directed by another director nineteen eighty five, various setbacks and excursion of the Soviet Union to shoot nineteen seventy five's durso Uzala, and a comeback partially produced by influential American directors who he had heavily influenced himself.
And this was increasingly important as Japanese studios were in this time less likely to back him, and so he was increasingly turning to outside and foreign financers. And certainly that's the case with Dreams.
Was it the case with his later films that they were regarded both in Japan and internationally as masterpieces, But they also didn't make a lot of money.
Yeah, yeah, I've read. I was looking at like some contemporary Ebert reviews talking about like what happens when you have like a master who you know, keeps doing their own thing, but you know, doesn't necessarily it is not necessarily chasing what the audience wants. Then maybe some of that. I was looking at some information about how this film Dreams was received, and I've seen it described as kind of like a largely muted response both domestically and internationally.
But at the same time, there was like a lot of excitement for it, especially among directors who admired his work so much. And another interesting wrinkle is that apparently, I mean, this comes as a surprise I think for many because I know when I started watching Krosawa films, they were airing i think on Turner Classic Movies and
or American Movie Classics. Even it seems weird that they would be on American movie class American Movie Classic showed a lot of different films, but at any rate, I had ready access to them on television on cable, and nowadays, you know, you have all these excellent criterion collection editions. But apparently for a while they weren't all necessarily available on home video, with the exception of Dreams because of the Warner Brothers connection.
Oh I see.
So even if the initial response was kind of muted, more and more people had the opportunity to Sea Dreams, and of course it gradually earned it more of a following, and I think is also seen as this interesting outlier in Corosawa's filmography. You know, there's nothing else quite like it among his other titles.
My general impression is that a lot of critics don't put it at like his in his top tier list, you know, it's not in a lot of people's top five Corosawa movies or whatever, but that it is nowadays widely respected.
Yeah. I mean, it's one of those filmographers though, right where it's like, if you're talking about the seventh best Carrosawa film, you're still talking about a great motion picture.
Yeah. So.
Krissawa was honored at the sixty second Academy Awards in nineteen ninety and he went on to complete two more films, nineteen ninety one's Rhapsody in August and nineteen ninety three's Maddeo. He was working on The Sea Is Watching in nineteen ninety five, when he apparently suffered a fall, leaving him unabuilt to direct, and his health rapidly declined in the following years, and he passed away in nineteen ninety eight.
The Sea Is Watching would ultimately be made in two thousand and two by a different director, among a couple of other posthumous screenplay credits. Now, to come back to something I was talking about here earlier, one of the things driven home by numerous Japanese and international directors in Kursaw was way the documentary is that he is really
the epitome of a director's director. I imagine you could take that a step further now and say that he's a director's director's director, or to that effect.
Meaning he is appreciated, especially by other practitioners of the art form, not just by audiences, but especially like people who make films really admire the way he makes films.
Yeah, it seems really difficult to overstress his influence on modern cinema and directors around the world, Directors who would often and continue to analyze every minute detail of how his direction of actors, lighting, framing, use of space and everything else came together on the screen and it can almost be invisible, I think to many of us, because if you're watching a Krosawa film, I mean, its magic
is going to work on you. You are going to You're not going to necessarily unless you're, you know, making an effort to You're just it's going to. Its spell is going to work. You're not going to be maybe thinking about how he's shooting everything. Because in part of it, too, I think, is because he was so influential, many of the things he did simply became more or less standards of filmmaking.
Yeah, I mean, it's true that a lot of times good technical directing does not really call attention to itself. It manifests in utter absorption in the narrative and content.
Yeah, and so you're.
Watching seven Samurai, you might not be thinking a lot about the you know, how every shot is being framed and how he captures movement and light and stuff, But you know that your attention is held very closely, and that's sort of like how it comes through to the average viewer.
Absolutely. All right, let's move on to some other folks involved in this picture with with less detail we've covered the big one here, of course, is Shuro Honda. Who lived nineteen eleven through nineteen ninety three. Famed director of Godzilla, who we've discussed in the show I think three different times, most recently in our discussion of nineteen sixty four's matha Versus Godzilla. He was a creative consultant on this picture.
I think I read that especially his experience in the military was used to choreograph the sequence called the Tunnel where we see military, we see army members marching information.
Yeah. Yeah. And also, you know, I have to say that the Mount Fuji segment also feels very Honda like. You can imagine him at least standing in the background nodding and being like, yep, you've nailed at Krisawa on that one, all right. Getting into the actors here, starting with the Dreamer, generally credited as I because we keep having that dead for us, where we read the words I had another dream, and then here's our dreamer, our dream walker. I. Our Dreamer is played by Akira Tera
Hope born nineteen forty seven. Born into successful acting family. He's also a musician, having been in the nineteen sixties band The Savage Joe. I included an album cover from The Savage They don't look very savage. They look just like some very clean cut guys here. Yeah, they look like they're they're ready to head down to the sokop. Yeah.
But he subsequently launched a successful solo career, and I think in this he took on a more edgy persona and often had kind of like a like a nihilistic kind of like dressed in black, wearing sunglasses thing going.
On, holding a twelve string guitar, looking like nothing matters.
Yeah. So yeah, successful musician, award winning musician, and then as an actor. He debuted in nineteen sixty eight The Sands of Krobi and later appeared in Karasawa was Ron. He's also in nineteen ninety six's Rebirth of Mathra and two thousand and four's cas hern This is one Caserne is not. I haven't seen either of these two films, actually, but cass Herne is one that I've seen get video stores for years because it has some sort of like a space ninja on it. I don't know much about it.
If you out there are fans, write in and tell me all about it.
You know. I was gonna say in talking about the themes of the film that one of them is the self as both fluid and constant. The protagonist in each of these dreams, I think you could say, is the same person and yet is also quite different and both in terms of apparent life history, some aspects of personality seem to change. Sometimes the protagonist is assertive, sometimes the
protagonist is quite passive. That just varies a lot between the segments, and there's no narrative continuity between them, but there is a kind of thematic continuity, like the segments are strung together by associations and preoccupations rather than causality. And so this was making me think. I was trying to the performance, like, do the events of one dream
at all affect the protagonist in a different dream? And I think you could see it going both ways, Like the events of the movie never seem to be literally additive, and yet they may be kind of like the other dreams are kind of stirring in the memory of the protagonist in the other segments. You know, I don't know exactly how you would read that into Tara Oh's performance here,
but that does feel right. It feels like it's part of his story that there is I don't know, somehow, like not complete conscious knowledge of what was dreamt in the other dreams, but a kind of vague sense of I've had a feeling like this before.
Yeah, And I mean that's the way it often feels with dreams. You know, you might bring the content of one dream into the next. And also, at least in my own experience, like, sometimes you're you, and the dreams sometimes you're less you. And then so I feel like this character is you know sometimes you know. I think in general we can think of him as a Krosawa
stand in. Sometimes he's more of a voyeuristic figure or even an avatar by which we experience the dream, though his role is more personal and intense in certain segments, namely the Tunnel, which we'll get to.
Yeah, definitely, I certainly had the Tunnel in mind for his more like assertive and active roles. But almost always, and I guess this is often true of dreams, he's more reacting than acting on the world, and often reacting with a kind of futility. Yeah.
Yeah, Because again, there's all these or most of these dreams, if not all of them, they begin with the sense of being trapped in something like we're maybe not trapped trapped is too strong a word, too nightmarish, like you know, in the texture of dreams, like sometimes you're just there and you're a part of it. I don't know, it's hard to really state it, but anyway, yeah, I liked his performance. It kind of the exact details of it change from sequence to sequence, and then to be clear,
in subsequences. I the Dreamer is played by a child a couple of different actors I believe, Mitsunori Issaki born seventy seven, and then another actor by the name of Toshiko Nakano playing younger versions of the Dreamer.
I think you could argue that the segments of the film are roughly chronological in terms of the protagonists age. I don't know if exactly, but like the first one, the protagonist is the youngest, the second one, he's the second youngest, and then becomes an adult, and it does seem to progress through a kind of maturity arc in life from there.
Yeah, I believe so, all right, Rolling through some of the other performances here, of note, we have Metsuko Basho as the Dreamer's mother in the first sequence born nineteen forty six, Japanese Academy Award winning actress, whose credits include nineteen seventy nine s Vengeance's Mine, nineteen eighty's Kja Musha, and a voice roll in two thousand and six is Tales from Earth. See that's a Goro Miyazaki.
Film adapted from the Ursula of the Win.
Yes, Yes, Yeah, Then of course eventually we're gonna get our yuki Ono the snow Fairy or the snow Woman the snow Witch. More on the details of this character in a bit, but this is of course a yokai that pops up throughout Japanese media, played here by Miko Harada born nineteen fifty eight. She was also coming off a major role in Kurosawa's Ron, and her other credits include seventy nine's The Inferno, nineteen eighty eight's Tokyo The
Last Megalopolis. That's one I haven't seen, but that one's kind of famous for a couple of different reasons, including the fact that hr Giger designed something for it, twenty twelve's Helter Skelter, and Oh, I don't know anything about this one, but sometimes the title just catches you twenty sixteens. If Katz disappeared from the world, I'm enthralled. I need to know more about that one, but anyway, she's won
multiple acting award in her native Japan. All right. In the tunnel sequence, we have a ghostly figure from the past that shows up, Private Naguchi played by Yoshitaka Sushi born nineteen fifty five, another Ron cast member who was also in a number of other pictures, including two other Kurosawa pictures, sixty five's Red Beard and nineteen seventies Dotsukatton. Now late in the picture, we're going to have an old man character who is fabulous, played by Chishu Ryu,
who lived nineteen oh four through nineteen ninety three. Award winning and long lasting Japanese actor, his work spans six decades, and his other credits include Red Beard, nineteen fifty three's Tokyo Story and nineteen eighty five's Mishima, a Life in four chapters. He also appeared in Vim Vendors Until the End of the World in nineteen ninety one.
And in many ways, this old man is kind of the soul of the movie, especially appearing as he does in the last segment.
Yeah, he's terrific. I really love this performance. This guy's great and.
He has some opinion. He's of all the segment. He's just like saying opinions into the camera.
Yes, but he's great.
It's got that quality of like he's old, let him talk.
Yeah, yeah, and I think he may have. I think this guy speaks more than anyone else in the picture. I don't know. We get a lot as well from the Crying Demon. And this character was played by Chosuki Ikaria, who lived nineteen thirty one through two thousand and four. His other credits in Beclue, nineteen ninety one's My Son's and nineteen ninety eight's Base Side Shakedown.
You know, one thing I didn't know about the cast when I pictured this movie is that it was going to have Martin Scorsese acting in it.
Yeah. Yeah, yeah, playing Vincent van Go. You have legendary American director and noted Corosala admire. Yeah, he's definitely in that documentary Krosawa's way talking about his experience on the film and his admiration for Krosawa's work. And it's interesting because, yeah, so Scorsese himself an admire of Corosawa and study or of Corosawa's work here playing a master painter admired by the dreamer, and so it's kind of a neat inversion there, literally following the master into his work here.
Yes. Yeah, is it true that he interrupted making Goodfellas to like fly in to shoot this.
Oh I didn't read that, but that sounds or hear that in the doc, but that that sounds likely. Yes, I mean that's the kind of respect that all of these directors had for him.
I also found Scorsese's screen presence interesting because he does not come in the way sometimes like a well known director cameo and acting can feel where it's like, oh, I don't know, it's like I'm the big important person now here. I'm ego crashing into the scene and taking it over. He feels very in service of the scene. He feels it's one of those performances where it feels like he is just trying to do what Corrosawa wants of him and is telling him to do.
Yeah, Martin Scorsese occasionally does these little acting but sometimes playing a fictional version of himself, sometimes playing a fictional
a different character. But he's generally pretty good. Sometimes it's certainly a little broader in his performance, but yeah, that's a good point is he does seem to be essentially trying to play Vincent van Go here, and I was also thinking this is also perfect like dream logic, you know, like I had a dream last night and I was having a conversation with Vincent van Go, but he was also somehow Martin Scorsese at the same time. Yes, that's
kind of the vibe here. Another fun little cameo, I guess would say in that particular segment, the woman in the fields that the dreamer initially interacts with before being sent in the direction of Vincent van Go is played by Catherine Cadau. Kursaw was longtime personal translator and director of that twenty eleven documentary Charsawa's Way.
Oh. Interesting, So she's the one washing washing in the river who tells him that tells him to stay away from van Go because he's a madman.
Yes, yeah, yeah, I just came out of the asylum. Yeah. Oh. And then getting to the music, the music here is of course terrific, and the composer credited is Shinichiro Akibi born nineteen forty three, Japanese composer whose film work includes Chris always Keji Musha Rhapsody in August and Madeo. His other scores include TV's Future Boy Conan from nineteen seventy eight that was an early directorial effort from Hayo Miyazaki,
and two thousand and seven's Glory to the Filmmaker. He won the Japanese Academy Award for composing multiple times.
I think in addition to some original compositions, this movie does also feature some classical compositions. Like I think there's some Chapan in it and stuff. But yes, the music is wonderful special. Oh, it's wonderful throughout, especially thinking of the mysterious music in the very first segment.
Also, I love the funeral procession music at the end. I'm not sure, yes, I'm not sure at different points in the film whether we're looking at the composed score or needle drop score, but at any rate, it's all really good.
Yeah.
Finally, I also want to note that if you start looking at the special effects credits on this film, you'll notice a lot of Western names via those connections that Kurosawa had with George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. Its industrial light and magic handling the special effects on this, you know, Otherwise Japanese production. Apparently they did this at cost, though I have to say watching the picture, I mean, it's
not like you really notice. It's not like ILM came in and made all the Fox people look like wookies or anything. I don't know. It's like the effects are I guess, really good and often invisible.
They're very organic. Yeah. Yeah, the effects feel almost humble in a way. Does that make sense, not flashy, just kind of manifesting. I don't know.
Yeah. There is some behind the scenes footage on the Criterion collection just showing Carosawa directing the scenes where we have the makeup effects for the Fox people as well as the hornet demons, and you know, he's he seems to be like, you know, sort of tweaking things a little bit, and in the case of the demons, saying like, let's tone it down a little bit, like essentially they look too much like monsters. We want we want the
viewers to understand that these are humans. So I get the impression that carasaw will, maybe even's head of them, scale back a little bit on things, because you know, often I think it's the case in this picture that otherworldly beings they do have a kind of like stage presence, Like they certainly come off like human beings in makeup,
and there's not there. There doesn't seem to be an overt attempt to portray them as overtly otherworldly beings, Like there's a humanity to them that I guess is essential here.
Yeah, yeah, that's right. Should we jump into the plot.
Let's do it?
Okay? So, as I mentioned, there are these eight segments. We're going to talk about some of them, I think, in more detail than others. I wanted to start off talking about the first one. I love all the segments in this movie, but the very first one is probably my favorite. So I want to kind of look at it in some detail. And this is the one called Sunshine through the Rain. So it begins with a young boy coming out the front door of his house looking like he wants to go play outside. But just as
he is heading out, it starts to rain. And I don't know, somehow that beginning in itself, even before we really are thinking of this as a dream, that's so evocative of childchildhood, you know, the feeling of wanting to go outside and play and it starts raining, Or at least it was for me. I don't know that that feels like such a familiar and cutting kind of frustration.
So the boy, he's come out the door of his house, but he stands under an archway in the gate that goes around the outside of the home, and he's watching the rain come down, and it is a sunshower, so the sun is shining even though there is precipitation. And then from the background, we see the boy's mother emerge from the house and she hurries out into the courtyard to gather some baskets of something. I think maybe she was drying some kind of food items in the sun
or something. And she's pulling the baskets inside, and she calls out to the boy and she says, you're staying home. The sun is shining, but it's raining. Foxes hold their wedding processions in this weather and they don't like anyone to see them. If you do, they'll be very angry. And she runs back inside. So actually, maybe here should we do a little sidebar on the folklore of the Kitsuni no yumeiri. This is the fox's wedding.
Yeah, yeah, Katsuni we've discussed on the show before. We're talking about fox spirits In Japanese traditions, so yo kai with supernatural abilities often depicted as tricksters, though in this case not so much tricksters and more in line with sort of global traditions of like fairy folk of the unseen world who are out there going through their rights and observations, and sometimes humans can see into their world, but perhaps at their peril.
Yeah. Yeah, I think that's a good way to put it. So he's received this warning, but the young boy, he is maybe not deterred. He looks out at the downpour. He stands there and stares for a bit, and then he wanders off into the forest.
Yeah. I mean mom's warning here was kind of asking for it, like, don't go outside now because there are fox spirits out there.
You might see something amazing. Yeah, And I love the scene in the forest here. So the forest is eerie and just pulsing with magic. So the trees are enormous.
We don't see really the tops of the trees. We just see these column like trunks, and the ground is covered in sprouting plants with long green leaves that come up to the boy's waist, and we can see sheets of rain and mist are billowing sideways through the gaps between the trees, and then you can also see individual shafts of sunlight crossing down through holes in the canopy, and all this together makes the air appear to have a kind of silky, shimmering texture. It's so beautiful and
it looks like a place absolutely where magic happens. And as we watch the scene, there is just this mounting sense of the strange and unreal. For example, one thing, you see a close up of the boy who is he's walking silently through the woods. He's looking around, not saying anything, and I noticed he's dry. It's raining, but he's not wet. There's no music, no talking, just this kind of soft skittering sound of rain on the leaves, and the boy just keeps looking around, wide eyed, like
he is expecting to see something. And then he does see something. There's a bank of white mist, and through it he sees the outline of a shrine carved in stone. And then slowly music begins. We hear drums and a wood block and a flute playing a slow, mysterious melody. The rhythm on the drums in the woodblocks is also kind of slow and stuttering, and over the background of this music, the boy watches a procession of figures slowly
marching out of the fog. They are human dancer in fox makeup rob as you were saying there, they're distinctly human in forms, so they didn't try to make them quadrupedal or anything. They're standing upright basically human, but their faces are painted a rosy white color, with red fur over their noses and cheeks, and they have whiskers. The women are wearing veils over their heads, and the men wear a sort of disc shaped hat. The first two
men in the procession are carrying these cylindrical objects. I'm not sure what these are, but they might be some form of paper lantern. I know that fox wedding processions in folklore are sometimes said to be carrying paper lanterns like you can see them as dancing lights.
Yeah, I think that's what this is supposed to be.
And their style of dancing is so interesting and evocative. There are these slow, almost glacial movements as they march along, and then sudden moves where they bend and twist and assume a pose, all looking in the same direction. I think this is supposed to evoke when a wild animal senses your presence or gets spooked and then suddenly like flinches and freezes looking at you. Did you take the same thing from it?
Rob, That's a good point, you know. I don't think I've literally put that together when I was watching it, but I think it's a great read. I will note that this is definitely one of the many sequences in the picture that feels like it could possibly go on forever in a good way, in that dream sense where it's like this is this is happening, and and you're
just in it. You know, who knows if the dream is going to is going to continue on to some point of emotional upwelling, though of course it will in this case.
Lost time, very little consciousness of past or future. You're just you're just stuck in this moment. And the boy is watching this procession from behind a tree. He's very cautious. He's trying to hide, and the dancers keep stopping and suddenly looking in his direction, but at first he stays hidden until the last time they stop and sudden he's caught. They all turn and look at him, and the boy panics and runs away back home.
This is not played for horror or anything but and again the makeup is is subtle, and it's definitely holding back, but it is a frightening sequence in its own way, Like that, you know, the child has seen into a world he should not bear witness too, and they have looked back and seen him as well.
But when he gets home, the danger is not over. Actually that you might think, Okay, he's escaped, he's back home now. When he gets back to the house, he finds his mother waiting for him at the front gate, and she's looking very stern, and he approaches her kind of bashfully, like he knows he's done something wrong. But she does not comfort him. Her face is very stiff and her expression is cold, and she says, you saw it, didn't you. You saw something you shouldn't have. I can't
have such a child in my house. And angry fox came looking for you. He left this, And then from a pouch in her sleeve, the mother produces a tonto knife. The boy takes it and he pulls the knife from the sheath and the mother says, you're to a tone by cutting your belly open. And I was like, WHOA. That hits hard because this is a little child. This is not like a you know, not even like an like the little kid, and it hits hard. But this to me felt so real as a child's dream turning
into a nightmare. It is so much more unacceptably threatening and dangerous than adults like to imagine children's dreams are. But this is, I mean, this is what I remember children's dreams being like that. There's a way that the child's mind is sort of uncensored. It is it like it goes to much more bold and horrible and frightening place, says than adults want a child's mind to go to.
And this felt like a real dream in multiple ways, with like the you know, the threat that you have to cut your own belly open, but also in the in the way that the mother is not comforting, like he's done something bad and the mother has become alien and threatening to him.
Yeah.
Yeah, But then here in the dream, the mother offers an alternative. She says, she says, go quickly and ask their forgiveness. Give that back to them, talking about the knife, give that back to them, and beg for your life on your knees. And then the mother literally turns her back on the boy. She turns her back on him and goes inside and starts to close the gate in her son's face. And as she's closing the doors of the gate, she says, they rarely forgive even trivial things.
You must go prepared to die for your sin. And then as the gate is almost nearly shut all the way, she says that until they forgive him, she can't let him back in. And then finally the boy speaks. He pleads that he doesn't know where their home is, but the mother says, of course you do. Their home is
beneath the rainbow. And so now we and the gate shuts, and so, now afraid and alone, the boy sets out again into the woods with the deadly knife in his hands, and eventually he comes to a clearing and it's a meadow full of flowers. It's just huge mass of flowers, millions of flowers, all in bloom in spring colors yellow, white, pink, and violet, and this mysterious music swells and then we can see the boy from behind. This is probably the
most iconic shot from the film. The boy is now entering a narrow valley framed by dark mountains, and in the middle ground there there's the meadow of the spring flowers, and a rainbow bends over the field. And this has got to be the most beautiful and certainly the most frightening use of a rainbow in a film that I can think of, because it's a rainbow that's obviously not just a disconnected vision that is pretty to look at,
as rainbows are often in movies. This is a place, and it is the spectral castle of the vengeful Fox Spirits. And the boy stands there facing the rainbow. He's clutching the knife. He is amazed and afraid, and he begins again to walk to its center, and the music is swelling up with these ominous notes on the woodwinds and then fade to black. Yeah, and that's the end, So
we never see him face the fox Spirits. In the true essence of a dream, these vignettes often begin in the middle of the action, or begin with a kind of unexplained arrival, and they often stop right in the middle of the story as well, usually right as the tension is kind of rising to its peak.
Yeah, I mean, that's the way it often is in dreams. How how many times have any of you ever had a dream that finished had a third act you know, sometimes I guess that's the case, but generally it's like things kind of peter out or shift. And yeah, I agree,
very strong opening segment here. I agree on the danger and seriousness of children's dreams displayed here, and it seems a fitting way too, to look at the way that children are you eventually thrust, maybe without warning, into you know, out of their lives of protected curiosity and into a more serious world of reality. Though of course in this case it's it's it's not quite reality. It's a supernatural threat.
But still it's like his world of just sort of play and curiosity has suddenly taken this sharp turn into a into threatening confines.
Yeah, I agree with all that, and I just love so many things about this opening. The way it captures this authentic feeling of a child's imagination and dream world, the way that there is a thin line between beauty and amazement and absolute horror, and that the way the story can just shift back and forth between the or kind of capture them both at the same time, especially with the image of the rainbow.
Yeah. Absolutely, And again you have such an ominous use of the rainbow here, This rainbow gait to a certain degree of more adult world.
Okay, do you want to look at the peach orchard? The next one in order. So this one also begins with a young boy in a house a little bit older than the boy in the previous dream, and it starts with him taking a tray of cakes to his big sister and her friends. And this episode takes place on Hina Matsuri or Doll's Day, also known as Girls' Day. I didn't know anything about this beforehand, so I had to look it up. But this is a festival celebrated
at the transition from winter to spring. I think these days it's often on March third, where families pray for the well being of their daughters. It's sort of a health and well being of our Daughter's Day. And the festival includes the display of dolls known as Hena Nino or Hena doll, which are styled after the imperial court
of the Hayan period. So the protagonist, the boy, he brings a tray of goodies to his older sister who is with her friends, and they're in a room with a tiered display of Hena dolls in the background, and the boy stops to look at the dolls and there's kind of a strangeness, a music sting that indicates something is a little striking or unusual. And then he realizes that he brought more food to his sister and her
friends than is needed. He thought that she had five friends with her, but there are only four friends there now, and he insists that he saw another girl with them earlier, but the sister tells him no, there are no other girls here. He is being strange. But then he sees the girl again. The other girl is dressed in pink and white, and she's watching him from the hallway, but she disappears when he tries to get his sister to look and see the.
Other girl is already a little creepy.
Yeah. Yes, So he follows the girl in pink out through the back door, out into the bamboo forest, all the way to a green hillside with tiered terraces, much like the tiered display with the Hena dolls in the house, and the hill is covered in soft grass, and when he arrives at the hillside, he's sort of ambushed by a mass of people. They all come running out on the terraces and they are dressed up like the Hena dolls, but in life size, and I think there's sort of
an Emperor doll Man, the leader of them all. He addresses the boy sternly, and he says that they will never return to his house again because his family cut down the peach orchard that used to be on this hill. And he explains that they are the spirits of the peach trees, which are celebrated on the Dolls Day festival. And there seems to be kind of an implication that because of the family's treachery, they will also withhold their blessings from the family, and the boy begins to cry,
and the Emperor yells at him. He tells him it's too late for tears. But then the Queen Doll remembers something. She says, this is the same boy who cried for the trees when they were being cut down. They say they remember he even pleaded with his family not to do it, not to cut down the orchard, and the Emperor at first he scoffs at this. He says that was only because the boy knew he would stop getting peaches to eat, and all of the members of the
court laugh at him, but the boy protests. He says no, He says you can buy peaches at the store, but where can you buy a whole orchard of trees in bloom. He says he was crying because he loved the trees at themselves as living things, and then he starts to cry again. And then the doll people seem sort of ashamed. You can see them sort of looking at their feet and hanging their heads. And the emperor accepts the boy's explanation.
He says he's a good boy and that he will be allowed to see the orchard in bloom one last time. And then there's a dance with all of the figures taking place on the terraces, and they perform these choreographed movements to symbolize the flowering of the trees. And then at the end of the dance, the boy sees the peach trees blossoming again, and there are petals falling everywhere. He also sees the girl in pink, and he tries to run after her, but suddenly he's back in the
real world and all the trees are chopped down. Now they're just bare stumps, all except one. There's one tree that has a limb covered in flowers, kind of bouncing in the wind. And he goes over to it and he looks at it, and the end, what was going to happen next we don't get to see.
This is also a strong segment. I mean, like they're all strong. It's not like there's a week one in the bunch. This one maybe hit me. I think is weirder just because I wasn't familiar with the traditions, and also I think my fever might have been spiking a little bit during the sequence as well. But yeah, I also really loved this one. Similar in some ways in theme to the first Sega segment.
I thought this one was interesting because the Peach spirits themselves seem to abide by a kind of child's internal logic. The way that they think that he's actually a good boy because he cried because of the trees themselves and not because of just wanting to eat peaches. I don't know. That just feels like such a like a kid's way of thinking about this thing. Yeah, all right. The next segment is the Blizzard. I think we can be a
little bit more cursory and talking about this one. Basically, it is four mountain climbers who are going up this mountain. They get hit by this blizzard. They're struggling in the snow. We see for a long time just them fighting against the wind and the snow, trying to make their way up hill but it is and they're trying to make the way to camp, but they can't see which way
they're going. There's disagreement about whether they're on the right track, and eventually they begin to sort of get snowed in. They succumb to the snow and they're being covered up and they're freezing, and they sort of settle down, and there's the implication that if they do this and they don't reach camp, they're going to die. And then we see things from the perspective of the lead climber. It's sort of the leader of all of them, who's been
trying to rally his friends to keep going. We see a figure begins to sort of put blankets over him, these shimmering blankets and shawls that go over his body
like layers of snow. And this is from what I've read, this is supposed to be a traditional figure from Japanese folklore known as the yuki onna, which might be like the snow princess or snow fairy, snow witch, something like that, the snow spirit, who I think is often threatening in nature and here or she's ambiguous at first, but then I think by the end we can learn as definitely a threatening figure.
Yeah, my understanding is that it does kind of vary. So. Yuki Ona is a pretty famous yokai, generally regarded as a yo kai because she's often more of a personification of the snow or of blizzards, though some tellings depict her as more of a yuri or a ghost that of a woman who died in the snow. As Heroko, Yoda and Matt All discussed in the book Yokai Attack. There as many different versions of this tale, as there
are mountains in Japan. The tale of the Yukiyono was famously adapted in the nineteen sixty five film Kaitan, which we might come back to. The core stories involve her sparing a handsome young man during a blizzard like after like brutally killing his compatriots with winter powers, but then sparing him on the condition that he never tell anyone about this, and so the young man survives, and then, as luck would have it, he meets a beautiful young
woman the next day. The two fall in love, they're married, they eventually have children, and yet the whole time, this need to tell the story of the woman in the snow steadily builds up inside him, till one day he breaks and he tells his wife about what happened in the snow that day. And I don't want to spoil anything, because it's pretty pretty amazing, but essentially we see the ramifications of him breaking his promise to the YUKIONO.
Oh well, the Yukiona in this segment is is quite scary, and eventually though the climber does sort of overcome her influence. She's sort of lulling him to sleep in the snow, and there's one moment when she is sort of defeated or blown away. She turns into some kind of white cloth. It's like a white piece of clothing or flag or something, and just like blows away in the wind. But then the man wakes up after the blizzard is gone, and
he sort of tries to he revives his compatriots. I think they're all still alive, and he sort of shakes them, tries to get them to wake up, and then they realize their camp is like right there, they're right beside it and they didn't know because of the storm. A lot of reviewers flag this, I at least from what I've seen online, as their least favorite segment. I think primarily because of how slow and monotonous parts of it are.
Like it is very dreamlike in that respect, especially in the first half of them just fighting through the snow and the wind is blowing. But I don't know. I like this segment, and I really like the part where the snow witch speaks. You know, when the snow witch comes up over him while he's lying down. She's putting the shawls over him, and there's some kind of modulation on her voice, like it's doubled or something, so it sounds very strange. And you hear her saying, the snow
is warm. It's so frightening.
Yeah, yeah. And my understanding is that that this it's sort of like the general vibes of the Yukiona. It's kind of a take on hypothermia and the idea of like giving in to death in the cold snow zihia. It's pretty creepy stuff.
The snow is warm. Okay. Next segment is the tunnel. As we explained, this one begins with a military officer walking by himself on an empty road that cuts through the mountains, we somehow understand I think that he is coming home from war. I would guess by his uniform that it's World War two, And he seems weary and beaten down, but he's still kind of clutching a sense of formal dignity, has a kind of headheld high aspect that some of the other characters and protagonists here wouldn't
necessarily have. And as he comes up the road, he faces the entrance to a tunnel. It's hard to say exactly why, but there is something really just cursed and ominous about this tunnel. I don't think it's a set made for the film. It looks like it's probably just a real concrete tunnel somewhere.
Yeah, but what a location. It's amazing, like just again, so ominous, and you know, it reads on so many levels, like like what is this? Is it a gateway to the underworld? It is nothing else, literally a gateway through the mountain. Yeah, so many ways to take it apart.
Don't go in there. But then from inside he hears howling and whimpering, the sounds of a dog, and then a dog runs out of the tunnel, and this is from what I've read, supposed to be an anti tank dog. So it is a dog strapped with timed explosives, which was explored and then there were many of these trained as a weapon by multiple armies in World War Two. I'm not sure how much they were actually used in combat,
but they were at least trained. So in this case, it is a dog with a kind of saddle on its back, covered in pockets, and the pockets are stuffed with grenades. It is a bleak and horrifying image.
Yeah, and certainly fits with some of the themes explored in the picture about humanity's relationship to nature. Here a great example of nature being twisted beyond mere domestication into actual weaponization. Pretty horrific.
So the dog approaches the officer and snarls at him, but does not attack, and then the officer walks on
into the tunnnnel, which is cavernous and echoing. We see these tracking, these moving shots going through the tunnel, just looking up at the ceiling of the tunnel as kind of light plays on it as he's walking along, and we can see the officer's breath, we hear his boots kind of clapping and reverberating as he makes his way down to the other end, and then we see at the emerging side of the tunnel the sky is dark blue and illuminated by a red lamp, which I thought
was interesting. Kind of reminds me of that Charles Dickens ghost story we talked about last October, the signalman with the ghost or the premonition appearing by the red light at the end of the rail tunnel. And so after the commander comes out the other end of the passage, he stops because he hears steps behind him. Who's that He turns around to see and it is a ghost. It is a soldier in combat uniform with rifle and helmet and his skin painted blue blue fleshed being who
should not be and the commander recognizes him. This is someone known to the protagonist. This is Private Naguchi, but Private Naguchi was killed in action and Noguchi is confused. He believes maybe he is still alive. He remembers going home after the war and being given rice cakes by his mother, remembers being comforted by his mother, but the commander has to explain to him, no, that was a dream you had. This is a dream about you know, the dreams of others. That was a dream you had.
You were shot in battle and you passed out, and you woke up, and you told me you had that dream where you went home and saw your mother and she gave you rice cakes. Then you died in my arms a few minutes later, and Noguchi is so confused. He's he points out a light in the mountains beyond and he says, that's that's my parents' home, that house right there where the light is. But the commander argues
with him. He tells him that he has to act up, that he is dead and he has to go to his rest, and he eventually the ghost seems to give in. He turns about face and he walks back into the tunnel. But it's not over because then here comes everyone, the entire company who served under this commander, and they come marching out of the tunnel. Information they're you know, they're like calling out drill instructions. They call him marching and
they stand in order in front of him. And here there's a confrontation where ultimately the commander has to accept his responsibility for their death in battle, where he says he would like to blame the stupidity of war for the deaths of his men, but he knows in his heart that he bears personal responsibility for sending them into certain doom because it was it was a feudal attempt,
but he sent them into battle anyway. And I feel like this moment highlights a theme that I think appears in multiple segments of this movie, which is the theme of individual responsibility versus a kind of collective blame or stupidity. Specifically, like there's a theme of the inadequacy of placing blame
for tragedies on abstract, impersonal forces or diffuse collectives. So there's the case here, But then the same thing happens in the next segment in Mount Fujian Red where or actually two segments later, where there's like a bureaucratic man in a suit and glasses who kind of contrasts a force of impersonal stupidity and arrogance that allowed the nuclear meltdown in that segment to occur. But then he acknowledges that he is personally to blame somehow, though he doesn't
explain how. And this seems to be something that's on the dreamer's mind. It's one of these themes that comes up in multiple cases.
Yeah, yeah, I want to also flag he hear that the makeup for the soldiers the ghosts here is really really well done. It is it is again you get a sense of Corosawa pulling back from anything too monstrous, like these are not like, this is not zombie makeup or what you might think of a zombie makeup. It really but it's also not like straight up kobuki makeup either. It's kind of like somewhere in this perfect place between kabuki makeup and like just a corpse like.
Pallor Yeah, the blueness of their makeup is so interesting. Is a color choice. It doesn't exactly suggest rot. It suggests a kind of changedness and like become a different kind of being. Yeah, but anyway, so the commander accepts his responsibility and he orders his men to turn about face and to march back into the tunnel, to essentially accept their destruction and go into death, go into their rest.
And then you might think the encounter is over, but there is another escalation because we get the return of the dog. So the anti tank dog runs back out again and begins it starts snarling and menacing the officer, and once again it just ends at this moment of heightened menace where we don't know how it resolves.
Great segment though, really everyone in it is stellar, just the I mean everything about it, the way it's framed, the costuming, the location they use, just everything lines up on this one for sure.
The next segment is Crows. This is the one that has the paintings of Vincent veng Go. So it begins with the Khorsaur protagonist in a museum looking at Vengo's paintings. He's looking at starry Night and one of his self portraits.
Then he experiences a little Stendel syndrome and just walks right into that thing.
He goes into the paintings. I think the first one he enters is so Vengo did a number of paintings of the bridge at Arla ar l e s if I'm saying that right, Arla's or Arla, And I think the specific one that he appears in is the Langlowy Bridge at Arla with women washing. So that's a painting you can look up if you want. It shows like a bridge with a sort of you know, drawbridge characteristic
that can be raised so boats can pass underneath. But there's a carriage, a horse drawn carriage on the wooden part of the bridge, and then down in the foreground there are women washing clothes in the river. And our protagonist just sort of wanders into this scene and it's reproduced in a spectacular way. I love the way that the color qualities of the van Go paintings are recreated in the sets and the lighting that Kusawa puts together here.
Yes, agreed, And I also like this is a nice pivot from the more serious, or at least the more dramatic vibes of the last segment. Yeah.
So the protagonist here wants to meet ven Go and he wanders around looking for him. He asks the locals where he is. They say he's a madman. But he finds van Go in a wheat field painting or observing the wheat field and talking about painting. This a major visual theme here is van Go's painting wheat field with crows, which shows like, you know, these the tall staves of wheed and then the crows flying up out of them
into a blue sky. The version we see a van Go portrayed by Martin Scorsese, and this vignette seems to resemble the figure, at least as I found in a Vango painting called Painter on the Road to Tarasan or Terrascon. Again, I'm not sure how to say that, but he's got a you know, a wide straw hat and just a lot of stuff with him. You know, he's got all his gear and his painting and a satchel and all that. The VANGOI meet is very distracted, you know, he's never
really giving the protagonist his full attention. His attention is on the scene and the landscape. And there's a lot of idea of like, you know, what's really valuable here is this scene and its beauty, and I must consume it and process it and turn it into something and that's what that's what matters. And I'm sort of halfway giving you enough attention to talk to you, but only about what I I'm.
Doing, doesn't he This is the part we have a line where old Marty van Go says, well, why aren't you painting? Like you got your stuff? Like what are you doing out here? Like this is this is why we're here, This is the reason we exist. Get to paint?
Why are you talking to me? Why aren't you painting? Yeah? I think that's a nice little, uh, gentle self criticism here from Corsawa. You know that apparently Corsawa was personally very interested in Vango, like he had read a lot of his letters and stuff and was interested in the man's life as well as to his work.
Yeah, and again makes sense given Chrisau was an early interest and in a career as a painter before pivoting to a film.
Next couple of segments, Mount Fujian Read and The Weeping Demon, or sort of the nuclear horror segments. So Mount Fujian Read. As I said, the protagonist just finds himself in the middle of a disaster scene. I think when we first see him, everybody else is running in one direction and he's walking in the opposite direction. He's like the only one. He's going against the flow of the crowd, and he
sees Mount Fuji just it looks like hot lava. It's just you know, glowing hot, and there are these explosions, and he learns that it's due to a nuclear meltdown. And as we talked about, they have these discussions. A man in a suit appears and he kind of explains things.
There's this long digression about the different colored like the different colors of fog and what radioactive isotopes they represent, and how each one kills you in different ways, and they're like, well, we color coded them so you can know which type of fog is killing you, but it
doesn't help you survive. It seems to be some kind of commentary on like the absurdity of like false senses of security provided by technology and that there are these, you know, threats that people just kind of rush into and we're given false assurance that it's going to be okay, but in fact that that was all you know, that was all just rosy talk, and in fact this is real stupidity and people are really to blame for this disaster.
I mean, there's a lot to unpack here with just the symbolism of all of this. Because Mount Fuji, of course is a dormant volcano. It's the tallest peak in Japan. I believes the last eruption was seventeen oh seven, But at the same time it is very much a symbol of Japan. And then on top of that we have the like the dream logic here as well of the mountain we learn is not actually erupting. It is nuclear
meltdowns happening like behind the mountain. But at the same time everything has like the flavor of volcanic eruptions, so it's like both things at once without being either.
This one also has that horrifying sense of futility because it ends with a really just gut wrenching scene with there's like a woman with two children who have joined him, and the protagonist is trying to protect them as like the fog clouds billow toward them, and he's in this utterly feudal gesture. He's like waving at the fog clouds with his jacket, trying to fan them away. But there's a sense that everyone is just doomed and there's nothing
anyone can do. Again, ends right at the height of the action, and then goes on to the next segment, another nuclear horror segment called The Weeping Demon, where our protagonist is wandering in this volcanic landscape very much it's almost like the slopes of Mount Fuji maybe, where there's a kind of dark volcanic soil and all these rocks and mist and fog billowing everywhere, and he encounters this monstrous looking figure with a horn on his head, which
I think is initially styled to be some sort of some kind of onny.
Yeah, definitely some onny vibes to this creature. I also have to flag that I again am sick and I had a few while watching this film. I think my eyes shut for a second at the very end of the Mount Fuji segment and then reopened during the Weeping Demon, and I thought it was one segment, but there is kind of like a similar vibe, like he's heading off into the nuclear waste at the end of Mount Fuji and now here we are in a different atomic wasteland.
Yeah. And then after this we get a long discourse from the demon as he explains this hell they have created. He sort of explains himself as a mutated product of radiation. And then they sit under these tree sized dandelions that are twisted and mutated by the radioactive fallout. And then he talks about these different kinds of demons, these like grades of demons. The demon with one horn is scary, but the demons with one horn get eaten by the
demons who have two or three horns. And they're also hungry, and then we see there's like a scene where the demon is like, come, I'll show you, and he leads the protagonists to this overlook where they look down at these gross like pools of pink and red water, where all of these demons are like running around them in circles in a way that suggests representations from Dante's Inferno, where you know, in hell you will have the damned sort of like running in pointless circles around something.
Uh and it uh.
And it's like they're they're calling out, they're you know, they're ready, they're gonna come eat them soon. But they're in pain themselves. They're suffering. Their their horns cause them pain. And we learned so many things. The demon explains he was again there's this thing of like eyebear individual responsibility. He explains, I was a farmer who destroyed my harvest
as part of a scheme to keep prices high. And and but they talk about other people who did other things who may have become even worse kinds of demons themselves. And so another just bleak, horrifying segment that also ends with the demon just menacing the Krusauur protagonist and the protagonist is running away down the side of the mountain, looking constantly like he's about to go headlong and tumble away.
Yeah, he's like he's berating him right, like, get out of here. Do you want to become a demon too?
Yeah?
So this one was at once like as bleak as the previous segment, but also since we had these monster like beings, it also felt like a little more escapist. So I was again, all of these segments are excellently put together, but in a way, this one felt like a nice turn away from the seriousness of the previous Mount Fuji sequence.
And then we get a very sharp turn into different territory for the last sequence, which is the Village of the Watermills. So our protagonist here the Dreamer, arrives by
foot in a small rural village beside a river. There are these old wooden water wheels turning in the current, and I guess they're running mills, and they're flowers blooming everywhere, and kursaw, what really takes time to show us the nature around there, to show us like green water plants waving in the stream, kind of like hair blowing in
the wind. And the dreamer comes in and he watches the children as they sort of gather on a little island in the stream that's bridged, you know that they reach by bridge and they pick flowers there, and they take the flowers and they lay them all on a stone. It's a very just beautiful, kind of gentle scene. And the dreamer meets an old man who's working on a water wheel mechanism of some kind, and they have a long conversation where the old man just kind of explains
his philosophy. They talk about all kinds of things. He A big part of it is him talking about how they don't need technology in this village. The man's like, don't you have electricity here? And the man's like, we don't need it and he's like, yeah, but what about at night when it gets dark? And the guy's like,
night is supposed to be dark. And so the main thrust of the old Man's philosophy is that people and people in the cities think that labor saving technology will make them happy, but secretly it just makes them more miserable, and they don't realize it until they have already destroyed the natural world and they can't get it back.
Yeah, this segment is great in so many ways, like it's it's definitely another rumination on this idea of the idyllic rural Japan versus modern urban Japan, something that you see in multiple studio ghibli pictures. So if any of you are certainly more familiar with the works of Miyazaki,
you've seen this kind of vibe. And I believe and I would go as far as to say, like this the sequence too, like it feels very much in line with like a Miyazaki film too, and that we have just such vibrant colors, like this is the world in full bloom. This is like it is almost like an Eden to some extent. And oh and by the way, I should mention that that documentary Cursaw Was Way also
features interview segments with me asz Aki. He's one of the many directors who talks about his admiration for Cursawa's work.
This segment absolutely has strong me az Aki vibes, yeah, in that love for verdant nature and the environmentalist outlook and all that sort of thing. And then also I think in this next moment, because after this, the protagonist hears what sounds like a celebration, He hears laughter and shouting and happy music, and the old man explains to him, actually, what he's hearing is a funeral. It's a good, happy funeral,
and this is another part of his philosophy. He says, well, when someone dies young, it's sad, but when someone dies in old age, it's a joyous occasion because they lived a full life. So the people march and they sing happy songs. And the woman who died in the funeral that's being celebrated today was almost one hundred years old. In fact, she was this old man's first love when they were both very young. She broke his heart she married another, and then he just laughs about it.
I love his laugh here.
Yeah, there's also The protagonist asks the old man about the stone where the children laid the flowers, and the man tells the story. He says that long ago a traveler came to the village, much like our dreamer here, but he arrived sick like he brought the sickness of the modern world with him, and he collapsed and died beside the river, and the people took pity on him and they buried him right where he fell, and the stone is his grave marker, and the children place flowers
on it. It's hard not to think about the man who died as being kind of suggested as another version of the visitor of the dreamer here and then from here, the old man goes off to celebrate the death of his first love, and the traveler watches the funeral march and listens to the happy music, and he feels kind of infused with the goodness and the happiness of this place, and we hear the music as well. That's the end.
The music is so terrific here, as I mentioned earlier, like I don't know exactly what you call this type of song, like how this factors into traditional Japanese music, But it's very joyous, like the old man explains it, like this is a celebration of life, and you totally feel it. You see it on the faces of all of the villagers in this procession. It's just such a great vibe.
I want to come back to that joy in just a minute, but I guess before we wrap up, I just wanted to mention a couple of the other interesting themes and threads I saw tying together these very different narratives. One thing that I noticed, Rob, did you notice this theme of the dilemma of being destroyed versus being transformed.
That like, in several of the more nightmarish scenes, especially, there is a dilemma faced by the characters in which they can either be annihilated, they can cease to exist or live on transformed into something tortured and unnatural. This is a major theme of the Weeping Demon. It comes up in Mount Fuji and Red, where they talk about the idea of immediate death versus a slow death from
the effects of radiation. It comes up in the Tunnel because the dead soldiers can't acknowledge that they are dead and they must cease to exist. Thus they go on in this baffled, twisted state of blue undeath. This clearly seems to be something that is on Krosova's mind. Another thing is across multiple scenes, I noticed a repeated theme of people getting no help from authorities and in fact
authority figures suggesting that you must die like. There are multiple scenes where someone is denied aid by someone who should help them, or by an authority figure like a parent the mother in the first sequence, or a government official or a military commander.
And a corporate world.
Yes. In all these cases, the authority figure suggests there is nothing I can do to help you, and you must die. But then finally, and I think this brings us back to the last segment. There is a more theme that you get in both negative and positive visions, and it's something about the holiness of nature, something about how the holiness of nature is not appreciated, but that
there is promise in coming to see it. And so I think the clear statement of the idea is that the natural world is absolutely vital to us, but that we remain blind to how important it is until we have already destroyed it. This theme is made very plain in the speech given by the old Man and the final Dream, where he's talking about the virtues of living simply and being in harmony with nature. He talks about the false promise of happiness through technology and convenience and materialism.
But you see this theme occur at different levels through I think most of the segments, like the boy in the peach orchard is redeemed by proving that he hated the idea of cutting down the peach trees, and that he loved the orchard for the living beauty of the plants, not just for the produce. Not just for the material, you know, the peaches they grew.
And in that segment we see that some level of regeneration is possible, like the we see that one plant that is growing back the promise of the future. Yeah.
And in the crows segment also this is part of what van Go like, he discusses this kind of almost life or death drive to find purpose and positive meaning in life by like seeking out what's beautiful and valuable in nature and kind of processing it through, you know, to take that scene of nature and to make it part of himself and to make himself part of it.
Yeah.
And then of course that brings us back to the funeral at the end. There's something relieving and gorgeous and cathartic about the funeral because it suggests a kind of a way of happiness, happiness and purpose and goodness even in death, by finding your life in the kind of state that these villagers find it that you know that they live in harmony with nature, and they realize they see beauty around them and they take part of it. They don't, you know, they don't remain blind to it.
They become part of it and they work with it, and it makes even death a happy thing.
Yeah, yeah, return to nature or return to traditional values. This is you see this as a recurring theme in Japanese media of this time period especially, but also I think globally as well. I mean, this idea of of returning to nature, returning to the garden, you know, you see that certainly throughout the later half of the twentieth century and on through storytelling today. I don't think it's a revelation that thankfully we've completely abandoned.
Or could hope to put into a kind of happy synthesis, because I also don't think it's quite fair to fully embrace, like the the philosophy that all labor saving conveniences are bad or something, you know, that happiness is necessarily through like destroying all machines and not having electricity. I mean, maybe it is, but I'm not sure that's the case.
But certainly there is a lot of wisdom in the movies plea to be more conscious and protective of nature and to see ourselves as being in an absolutely vital kind of personal relationship with it, each one of us, and also together as a community.
Yeah, absolutely, that's the dream. Anyway, in this case, Kurosawa's Dreams.
All right, well, I guess that's what I've got on Dreams. Rob is the is the cold medicine flagging? Yeah?
Probably so, I believe. I believe I'm running out of energy here, but this is a great one. I'm so glad you picked Dreams for us to watch here for this episode of Weird House Cinema. Again, it's widely available, It's well worth watching, and again it's really hard to think of. I love dream sequences in films and television, but I find it rare that a filmmaker actually captures some true essence of dream and a character of Saul absolutely nails it here. Yeah, yeah, all right, we're gonna
gohe and close it up. But hey, we'll be back next week with another cinematic masterpiece. Stay tuned for that one. Just a reminder that Weird House Cinema this is the episode that publishes on Fridays and the Stuff to Blow your Mind podcast feed. We're also experimenting with a standalone playlist of Weird House Cinema, so you can find Weird House Cinema listed separately on whatever platform it is you having to get your podcasts at. So check that out and if you are on a letterbox dot com. You
can find us there. We are Weird House. That's our username, and there's a list of all the films we've covered thus far, and sometimes a peek ahead at what's coming up next.
Huge thanks as always to our excellent audio producer JJ Posway. If you were like to get in touch with us with feedback on this episode or any other, to suggest a topic for the future, or just to say hello, you can email us at contact at stuff to Blow your Mind dot com.
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