(THIS ARTICLE IS MACHINE TRANSLATED by Google from Norwegian)
Film writer Gunnar Iversen has dealt with selected eras and hooks of film history in the past. With Rashomon and the history of the Japanese film is given a broad insight into a rich film heritage and culture, from Edison's viewership was introduced in 1897 and to this day, with personalities such as Takashi Miike and Hirokazu Koreeda at the forefront. Using Aki Kurosawa's breakthrough film as a gateway is highly understandable: It was Rashomon (1950) that first opened the eyes of the world to the Japanese film market. Much to the surprise of many, the film received the prestigious Gold Lion during the Venice Film Festival in 1951, and was to stand for posterity as one of the great classics in film history. This was not only unexpected; the director himself was skeptical. Rashomon represented something completely new in the West. It was exotic, but at the same time subject to American censorship. Fortunately, Kurosawa's classic can just be seen as a movie that did not succumb to the "democratizing" American hand during the occupation period. But so unknown was the Japanese film for the West that several Western critics could not even interpret Rashomons ambiguous symbolism in light of its contemporary and context, nor from the period to which it was added. Rashomon is unique in that the merged impressions from both the East and the West, from the modern and the traditional – and, as many prove today, criticized the American censorship.
Kiss of Death. Iversen calls Rashomon "A mirror for the present". He obviously refers to what several film theorists have pointed out is a hidden social criticism. Among other things, many have thought that the barbarian bandit Tajomaru (Toshirô Mifune), who with his unnatural, exaggerated and not least Japanese way of translating can be seen as a caricature of an invader – namely the Americans. In the period just before the Korean War, the Americans were at the bottom of their popularity curve in Japan. They did not become more popular by their rules and requirements regarding the Japanese film: they did not like men and women holding hands or kissing, and therefore wanted to inject kissing scenes as part of a "democratization process". Kissing they would surely get in Rashomon. It was the first time this was an ingredient in a Kurosawa film, and it also came in its most brutal form: as an introduction to a rape. "This is how the stage becomes something other than a democratization process, but rather a comment on the occupation," Iversen concludes.
Besides being a potentially very political film, is Rashomon, as Iversen points out, also innovative purely artistically. It breaks with conventions for the two traditional genre film genres that were prevalent at the time, namely the period film – jidaigeki, and the samurai movie – chanbara. There are several indicators that the film is neither one nor the other. Code of Honor bushido is, for example, totally absent, and the two men who abruptly end up in a sword duel are far from samurai to be reckoned with. In addition, the film is set in a different era than the usual costume drama, namely the Heian era (795–1185) – and honestly, there are not many magnificent costumes to count in the film. Then we have not even started talking about the aesthetics and the role of music for the film's distinctiveness.
Feminist gaze. Japanese film is, as Iversen indicates and emphatically illustrates with his book, much more than Kurosawa and Rashomon. For example, Japanese film history contains many leading authors who have left strong traces. Given the clearly male-dominated film environment that we also see today, it is interesting to take a look back at the first and second golden ages, where "women's film" was a separate theme, divided into strict sub-genres such as haha-mono eiga (suffering mothers) and tsuma-mono eiga (Wife movies). Kenji Mizoguchi stepped in and pointed out the oppression of women with films about the most horrific fates of women, permeated by social criticism with kicks to patriarchy. Yasujiro Ozu is also highlighted as one of the obviously few film directors in the film's history who has created his very own visual style, and who dared to point critically at a society built on power and class differences, such as in the film I was born, but… (1932)
The Japanese formula. Horror, anime, samurai movie, experiment, costume drama, monster movie and softcore porn. Despite the divergent genre division and aesthetics – all Japanese film adaptations have a tension between the East and the West. This is something we keep coming back to Rashomon and the history of Japanese film. The strong inspiration from the Hollywood tradition, both technically and artistically, has been central to the flourishing and direction of Japanese film. At the same time, it has been true to its cultural heritage, which is both borrowed from and frequently referred to.
"Women's film" was a separate theme, with sub-genres such as haha-mono eiga (suffering mothers) and tsuma-mono eiga (Wife movies).
There is a lot to learn from Japan's unique film history. Perhaps most important to note behind the ear is that investing in originality can contribute to success. Downturns in an industry come as a result of competition and digitalisation. The one-sided focus on genre films and superhero franchises we see internationally today does not make the situation any less precarious for producers and filmmakers who want to make independent films with a unique design language and narrative style. But even though today's streaming services are competitors to the cinema, and the market wants films that appeal to their audiences, this does not have to mean that film consumers are not open to original stories and new impressions. We may not be as narrow-minded as Netflix's algorithms work out. I have little faith that exposing an audience to the same stereotypical stories subject to a given set of aesthetic rules will lead to increased cinema joy and curiosity. The big company Nikkatsu did not succeed in focusing exclusively on soft porn films when they were in a desperate crisis. Kurosawa Rashomon was also not very well received at home when it first arrived. But when seen in a different context with other eyes, its success was abruptly a fact. We must not forget that Kurosawa managed to turn away from an aesthetic dictatorship that prevailed in Rashomons contemporary – an aesthetic codex that was not only created by the Americans. Despite its poor odds, a film that few believed in, or had seen before, became an audience success. That story is allowed to be inspired by.
