Comparing Kurosawa’s Lower Depths to Jean Renoir’s is like comparing apples to oranges. Despite having come from the same origin – Russian author Maxim Gorky’s political play of the same name – the two are vastly different. Renoir’s more romanticized take feels a bit mainstream and accessible compared to Kurosawa’s bleak, yet comedic vision, but the play itself isn’t meant to be taken as an accessible piece of entertainment. In a way, it practically circumvents what audiences expect from this sort of genre, so in that respect Kurosawa’s adaptation falls more in line with what Gorky was probably trying to present.
While Renoir handles the plot the way films are conventionally handled – implementing key plot developments, back-story, character growth, etc. – Kurosawa handles it more theatrically, but genuinely, confining the action almost claustrophobically so and treating the characters as standard, immoral outcasts rather than plot devices that push the story forward. In fact, there’s little progression, if any, in Kurosawa’s adaptation; we’re introduced to a group of destitute individuals wrapped up in their own concerns and ideals and they never really develop in any remarkable way. But I suppose this sobering portrait of the proletariat lifestyle is what Gorky had in mind.
Instead of spotlighting a single character – like Renoir mostly does with the thief – Kurosawa has created more of an ensemble film that lapses between the eccentric conversations of lower-class denizens living in a shabby tenement during Edo-period Japan. The members of this complex include a gambler, a prostitute, a tinker, an alcoholic actor, and a thief named Sutekichi played by Toshiro Mifune in what many consider to be his finest performance. At the core of their miserable lives is the tenement’s depraved landlady Osugi (Isuzu Yamada) who Sutekichi is secretly having an affair with. There’s also a wandering priest who drops in to serve as the “wise old sage” figure or mediator in this case, but once things go awry and Osugi discovers that Sutekichi has been unfaithful, drama ensues, hysteria breaks out, and the priest hightails it, realizing the tenants are beyond help.
Trying to distinguish tone here may turn off a few viewers, but I believe Kurosawa knew exactly what sort of atmosphere he wanted to establish in Depths. It's a tragicomedy, and although it has the air of a theatrical play, the way Mifune and his co-stars behave comes across far more authentic than their French counterparts. Their indifference is precise and unabashed, yet comically dispersed throughout the film. Kurosawa also incorporates cruelty as a function to examine these characters and peel them wide open, ultimately revealing very little, if anything redeeming about them. He certainly has the edge on Renoir when it comes to characterization, because instead of getting wound up in the romanticism of it all, we’re constantly learning more about these individuals through dialogue. The ending – which is the most chilling I’ve seen in some time – especially typifies how indifferent these people are toward human compassion.
Ironically enough, faith is the only substance these characters have in seeking greater things life, yet their unwillingness to reach out from the lower depths and actually make something of themselves is what hampers their resolve. Naturally, the priest is the sole presence of “faith” or religion in the tenement so he makes several attempts at imbuing optimism into everyone's lives, but fails on almost every level. Then there's the manner in which these characters strive to strip away each other's faith, which is a bit saddening considering faith is essentially their only means of living.
In the end, the idea of faith poses a question of realizing illusion – making dreams reality – and I found that to be the deepest aspect of Gorky’s play that Renoir failed to properly touch on. Kurosawa makes it fairly clear that most of Gorky's characters have this deluded sense of satisfaction in life and have no intentions of reforming the way they live. It’s depressing to watch, but the light moments tend to edge out the more somber ones.
Again, I don’t see much point in comparing Kurosawa’s Depths to Renoir’s because they’re two entirely different beasts. But if I had to choose the better film, I’d probably go with Kurosawa’s mostly because he seems to hit the mark where Renoir misses cerebrally. Renoir’s Depths sort of panders to the conventions of cinema, but it’s still quality filmmaking; just not thought-provoking. Not without its faults, Kurosawa’s can be unbearably slow at times, but at least he makes an effort to remain faithful to the source material.
8/10
No comments:
Post a Comment