My 30 Favourite Films (Part 2)

Rashomon (1950, Akira Kurosawa)

I am not too concerned with giving any kind of ranking for this list, however I will be exceptional in this case. Rashomon is probably my favourite film ever made making the the number one film here. 

From the very first shot this film captivated me, mysterious and engulfing. Truly my favourite opening of all time.

I love every aspect of this film, from it's genius screenplay, to its amazing performances (Tishiro Mifune is almost literally feral in this film), and the stunning cinematography.

Sheer beauty on celluloid.




Tokyo Story (1953, Yasujiro Ozu)

Ozu is a filmmaker that I am very cautious of. Mainly because I feel I could very easily become totally obsessed with him. His films embody and encapsulate the human spirit like few others, and his eye for detail is exquisite. 

I plan on updating this list next year, and if I do expect a lot more Ozu to appear.

This film is simply gorgeous. Tender, solemn and brimming with dignity.









The Bad Sleep Well (1960, Akira Kurosawa)

Yet another Japanese film, and another from director Akira Kurosawa. This is easily his most overlooked film, an incredibly crafted noire with some of the best performances and writing you will see in any thriller. 

Psychologically challenging and heartbreaking by the end, with a lot of credit going to Toshiro Mifune, who is always incredible to behold.

Kurosawa took a screenplay loosely based on Hamlet and transformed it into something new and wonderful.






Persona (1966, Ingmar Bergman)

Easily the least accessible film on this list. Persona is disjointed, pretentious and obscure.

It is also revealing, daring and shows the great Bergman at the very heights of his powers. Things are done in this film that astonish me, and terrify me. Probably the sharpest and most daring film on this entire list.

Sadly this is the only Bergman film on the list, I had to be very picky and restrictive on that front. A true shame.








Kes (1969. Ken Loach)

One of the simplest films on the list, along with Tokyo Story. A simple look into the raw human experience of a boy in an impoverished environment.

Heartbreakingly real and filmed with expert care and attention.

Not a flashy film, but one that gives a window into another world, one of the things that films are amazing at doing.











By Jack D. Phillips
Next is my favourite decade in all of cinema, the 1970's.

The Men Who Tread on the Tiger’s Tail (1945)

Although rather weak

compared to his later

 work, this

early period piece shows hints of what would

come for the great artist.

It is fair to say that I am huge fan of director Akira Kurosawa. This however marks my first foray into the director's early work, perhaps the least discussed period of the filmmaker's entire career. Despite being ignored by many, from what I have read almost every film in this period is subject to polarising opinions from fans and critics alike. This film for example has been called Kurosawa's weakest film by Tony Zhou (a Youtube film critic that I am a huge fan of), and one of his best early offerings by Stuart Galbraith IV, the author of a highly extensive biography of the director. So now it is time for me to offer my own thoughts on this polarising film.

For a start it is worth noting that this film was made at the height of the second world war, and as such amidst terrible working/living conditions. This sadly shows in the final film, which was clearly filmed entirely on a fairly cheap sound stage. Furthermore, the audio quality itself is sometimes quite poor. Holding these shaky elements against the film feels unfair, however it does still negatively impact the film's attempt to create an authentic period setting.

To counter the films weak technical elements, it boasts a simple yet elegant screenplay. The story is one of honour, loyalty and the lengths one must go to in order to fulfil their duty. It is a compelling tale, and it held my interest throughout. However this may have been aided by the film's slim running time, so short that I doubt it is even possible to lose interest before the end. I do give the film credit for telling a fairly epic story despite this limit running time, establishing the backstory efficiently in an opening narration and leaving just enough breathing room to establish some personality within the characters, although it is still fairly minimal in the scheme of things. Overall, I feel this film's narrative is one of it's better elements and I praise the film for it's efficient, although far from spectacular, storytelling.

The film's cinematography is quite fantastic in my view. This early in his career Kurosawa had already learned how to keep a film engaging through simple camera moves and story enhancing shot compositions. Alongside the film's phenomenal editing, which is beautifully paced and constantly interesting from start to finish, I would certainly recommend watching this film in particular if you want to know how to enhance a film's impact through cuts and shots alone.

So far I have described some of the film's strongest elements, however things fall apart in when I move onto the subject of the lead performances. For some strange reason, although the narrative has a clearly defined main character, the film adds a comedic relief character

who was not present in the films source material. This character dominates the screen for huge chunks of the film, and I found him insufferable. The actor mugs and overacts in way which I did not even think possible, and is clear to me that Kurosawa did not know how to integrate this guy into the story properly. This comedic character legitimately ruins parts of the film for me, his presence is truly baffling.

Outside of the terrible comedic elements, Denjirô Ôkôchi is excellent as the lead despite being pushed aside, and his ability to hold the viewers eye is really quite remarkable. Furthermore, Takeshi Shimura and Masayuki Mori appear in two very minor roles. They do very little, however it is nice to see two of Kurosawa's greatest collaborators lending their talents in the background. To be bold, one could even call Shimura's performance here a very early prototype to his work on Seven Samurai, as I saw the same gravity and dignity here that made that performance so sublime.

In the end, this film should probably best be remembered as an interesting little experiment from Kurosawa's early career. Many of his talents were honed in this film, and judging by the relative lack of comedic relief in his later films it is safe to assume that the director identified some of his weaknesses. Hardly a masterwork, but still certainly worth seeing for hardcore fans of Kurosawa.

By Jack D. Phillips

A Zoom Film Review

Stray Dog (1949)

A dynamic and 

tightly controlled 

noire and a strong
continuation on the
ideas set up in Drunken Angel.











Considered by many to be one of Kurosawa's greatest noires, and a prime specimen of post-war Japanese cinema, this film is one of the most respected films in Kurosawa's entire
filmography.  So the what are my thoughts on one of Kurosawa's most beloved early works?

To begin, the two lead performances from Tishiro Mifune and Takashi Shimura are truly fantastic. Mifune is in my eyes one of the all time greatest actors and he does not disappoint here. His stature and facial expressions steal every single scene he is in, and his energy and passion is emitted in every line of dialogue. This role is notable for being on one his more restrained and respectable, focusing on his youthful innocence rather than his feral energy, and he sells the youth and drive of his character very well indeed. Shimura is also fantastic as the wise, yet loose, older policeman who acts as Mifune's mentor throughout the film. Shimura's charm and charisma is on full display in this film and he balances both experience and intuitive genius perfectly in this film. Overall, I would say that this film features one of the best character dynamics in any Kurosaw film, and marks the point in his career where the director perfected his ability to etch out distinct, realistic and memorable characters in his films.

Beyond the two lead performances, the aspect of the film which impressed me the most was it's editing and pacing. At key points in the film the narrative gives way to montages showing the poverty stricken, post-war world the film inhabits. These montages held my interest remarkably well and are some of the film's most memorable sequences, and stand as a key example of how to bring an environment to life in a cinematic manner. Furthermore, these scenes reminded me of a similarly atmospheric and potent sequence from Ghost in the Shell, a film which I am sure took inspiration from these captivating moments of captured reality.

Beyond these montages, the film is edited in a remarkably modern fashion. I have watched modern crime-noires which were edited in a far more shoddy fashion than this film, and it really stands as a testament to Kurosawa's ability as an editor (this man really was a jack of all trades wasn't he?). The film's tension grows at exactly the perfect pace, in synchrony with the weight on the shoulders of Mifune's character. This film stands as a primary example of how to intertwine character development with the film's core narrative, in a way that can only be described as alive.

Finally, the film is perhaps best remembered for it's climax. A raw sequence of pain and astonishingly restrained violence, forming one of the all-time great endings to a crime film. This ending is what makes the film truly great, and acts as a crescendo to the perfectly built tension and character.

In conclusion, I respect this film and would say it more than earns it's place as one of Kuroswa's greats. However, I feel I must agree with Kurosawa himself, who never really thought highly of this film. It is hard to describe what the issue is, however when compared to his previous masterpiece, Drunken Angel, this film cannot help but feel a little artificial in my eyes, serving it's genre more than forming it's own distinct identity. This film pushed the technical boundaries of the noire genre in a real way, and cemented Kurosawa's mastery, however I respect it more than love it. This is a great film, but not one of Kurosawa's many masterpieces in my eyes.

By Jack D. Phillips
A Zoom Film Review

Yojimbo (1961)

One of Kurosawa's

most well known films

is a fun and

perfectly balanced

proto-action film.

At the time of it's release, Yojimbo was the highest grossing Kurosawa film in Japan and it remains one of the filmmakers most well known films to this day. It is also one of Kurosawa's most influential films, being the direct inspiration for Sergio Leone's Dollars Trilogy, the trilogy which breathed new life into the American western. Therefore it is quiet hard to remove Yojimbo from it's historical significance. However, I'm going to try.

Like many Kurosawa films, Toshiro Mifune (who now has a comfy seat waiting for whenever I bring him up) is the star and gives a phenomenal performance, perhaps his most iconic of all. Sanjuro is a selfish, cynical and manipulative drifter who leeches off the gang leaders of the film's town setting, and loves every second of it. Mifune is having a blast with this role, and yet is still able to give an underlying hint of nobility and justice to the character. Sanjuro is perhaps the perfect image of the travelling vagabond, one of the most enduring characters in modern culture directly because of this film. Other than Sanjuro, the film is occupied by several other characters who would go on to become highly recognisable icons with other westerns/samurai films. It is truly fascinating to witness where all these recognisable character archetypes originate from, and how wonderfully their first incarnations were portrayed.

Outside of the performances, the film features some of Kurosawa's most sturdy cinematography. The film has a very horizontal aesthetic, with a large focus upon horizontal lines and sweeping empty streets. This style would later evolve into the iconic showdown at the end of The Good, The Bad and the Ugly. Similar to the acing, it is stunning to see where such a well known and finely tuned visual style was birthed from, and how effective it was even at that point. The use of weather within this film is particularly impressive, rain emphasizing tension and frustration and mist showing the growing intensity and impending violence of the situation.

Yoimbo offers some of the most impressive scenes within Kurosawa's filmography. Particularly the rivalry between Sanjuro and the revolver twirling brother of one of the mob bosses. Merely with the blocking of the actors and the framing of the image, a powerful rivalry between the witty samurai and the powerful gun-warrior. Also, the earth-shattering sequence which shows Sanjuro at his lowest point is genuinely hard to watch and serves to harshly cut through the lighthearted and darkly-comedic tone of the film up to that point. Mifune owns these scenes with his posture and physical presence, two aspects of the actor which I don not think he has been matched on by any other.

In conclusion, Yojimbo is another of Kurosawa's masterpieces and has become a pillar of film culture. I personally would not hold it as one of my favourite Kurosawa's, I tend to prefer either his more epic and bombastic films or his tight character dramas. Despite this however, this is a must see in my eyes and deserves all the attention it has received since it's release.

By Jack D. Phillips
A Zoom Film Review

Masterpiece Corner: The Bad Sleeps Well

Kurosawa's great cinematic tragedy

The Bad Sleeps Well is one of the less talked about films from the legendary filmmaker Akira Kurosawa. Despite it's relative obscurity amongst his other peak period films, The Bad Sleeps Well is a highly important film within Kurosawa's filmography. It showed a return to the thriller and noir genres after eleven years of absence (the last film he did in this style was Stray Dog in 1949) and is one of the most narratively complex films Kurosawa ever made. It is also one of the small handful of Shakespeare adaptations Kurosawa made throughout his career, this being an adaptation of Hamlet, and is the film which takes the most liberties with it's source material. So with all that context out of the way, here is my analysis on one of my favourite of all of Kurosawa's films. (Spoilers from this point onward)

The Bad Sleeps Well features all the typical Kurosawa regulars. Takeshi Shimura and Toshiro Mifune are obviously here, as this film was at the peak of the trios legendary collaborative period. However The Bad Sleeps Well is also a meeting point for several actors who previously collaborated with Kurosawa, including Masayuki Mori (Rashomon), Ko Nishimura (who would later appear in Yojimbo), Kamatari Fujiwara (Seven Samurai) and Takeshi Kato, who was actually a surprisingly frequent collaborator as I discovered. This cast results in a film which has a very comfortable feel, filled with actors who Kurosawa had either already worked with or would later go on to work with again. It is clear that Kurosawa wanted his adaptation of one of the most well known tragedies of all time, and his genre return to be handled by only those he trusted the most.

In terms of the actual quality of those performances, and the characters associated with them, they are all truly mesmerising. Toshiro Mifune is one of the all time great actors, and here he gives perhaps the most complex performance of his career. The character of Nishi (our resident Hamlet equivalent) goes through many changes throughout the film. He starts off unassumingly distant and formal, growing more malicious and icy as his plan takes shape. After his cover is blown and the situation changes dramatically Mifune is able to show the oppressed happiness and regrets of the character. This effectively reverse engineers the character, showing us the calculated and harsh retributionist and then giving a glimpse at the regrets and pains that gave birth to this coldness. The character's tragic end at the hands of the powers he was attempting to destroy is a sad idea to contemplate, yet seems fitting for a character who has given himself entirely to a life of vengeance. The Bad Sleep Well gives Mifune one of his most tragic and layered roles, and he thrives when given such lush material. His posture, his facial expressions and his subtle mannerisms all give vital insights into this highly fascinating character. I can honestly say that if there was ever to be a single film which proves how special Mifune was, this would be it.

The film is also littered with many other juicy performances and characters. There is not a failure among them, and they each supporting character goes through a journey throughout the film. Despite the incredibly rich material given to Mifune, the film is also notable for how much significant material is given to the other actors. Shimura is given a slimy and rat-like executive character, a clever twist on the benevolent and wise characters he was typically known to play. Kato is wry and confident as Nishi's closest accomplice, representing the final vestige of Nishi's past (quite literally as the two characters switched names before the events of the film) and is the only character able to bring out the latent joy and contentment of Nishi's younger years. Fujiwara's character acts as the film's voice of reason, however he also drinks from the well of vengeance that has tainted Nishi and is subject to the same melancholic nostalgia to a life before this bleak narrative began. Fianally, Mori is given the film's most villainous role, a character that breathes selfishness and exudes an unspeakable pitifulness. His victory is a completely hollow one, adding to the tragedy of the film's finale. No character escapes the conclusion unscathed and the destructive nature of vengeance and deceit is inflicted upon all the players in the film's vile game of cat and mouse.

At the film's end, Nishi's quest to dismantle the corrupt and erroneous corporation which stole his life from him fails. It fails due to a moment of emotional weakness on Nishi's part, as he attempts to restore his relationship with his wife and build a future for himself.  For a tragedy to succeed the character's must feel secure, 99% certain that their plan will prevail. However we the audience, aware of the 1% the character's have overlooked, are powerless as our protagonists ultimate weakness results in their downfall. The Bad Sleeps Well is not quite that simple however. Here, the protagonist is not a force of good, regardless of what he believes. Nishi is a psychological torturer, breaking a man potentially forever, and his reckless vengeance leaves his childhood friend without an identity or a future. Furthermore, the villain gains nothing from his victory, in fact he probably suffers even more as a result. His home life is forever torn asunder and his career (which he spent the film fighting to protect) is called into question regardless.

The Bad Sleeps Well is the beautifully shot, visually told story of a man attempting to fight the corporate machine at their own game. However it ends with lives ruined, families destroyed and futures ended. The film poignantly sets it's final act with the ruins of a factory, bombed during WWII. This serves as the ultimate visual metaphor as to what remains of the character's lives after the screen finally fades to black. Ikiru ends with a final hopeful reminder that all a person's good work will always be remembered, regardless of how cruel the world is. The Bad Sleeps Well shows a world where good intentions, no matter how pure, result in desolation  and misery. The Bad Sleeps Well is not my favourite Kurosawa film, however it is very close.

By Jack D. Phillips

Masterpiece Corner #1