A.K. (1985) Movie Script
1
This is what I always say
to my film crews.
To create something,
it must be based on memories...
Every night we watched TV,
and the tale it told
clashed with our everyday reality:
the black slopes of Mount Fuji,
historical characters
and the presence
of Akira Kurosawa.
30th October 1984.
Scene 40.
An old father shares his kingdom
among his three sons.
Shunning the most loyal, he faces
the ingratitude of the two others.
A familiar-sounding story...
Kurogane is there,
so he glances at Kurogane.
That's when I say "action".
Shall we do it like that, then?
When you're over there,
if you keep still it doesn't work.
...but for me to leave!
Open the gates!
Yes, that's good.
And then walk over there. Right?
Turn back unintentionally,
and then show surprise, OK?
That's important.
A long rehearsal.
Kurosawa often rehearses his actors
for hours,
just for one take.
No back-up takes.
The back-up is all in the rehearsing.
Tatsuya Nakadai plays Hidetora.
He's King Lear and not King Lear,
more like his echo,
bouncing among these castles
that Kurosawa has had built
on Mount Fuji's slopes.
Nakadai, the doppelganger hero
of Kagemusha,
has worked for Kurosawa
for over 20 years.
He's not the only example on the set
of this continuity.
Four of them?
Yes, four.
During this rehearsal
Nakadai gets his lines wrong,
using a more modern word
than the one he should say.
Kurosawa courteously
corrects him each time.
We shall try to convey
As you look at his face,
you stop straining and grow sad.
Go!
Too long.
- Open the gates!
- "Unlatch."
Yes. "Unlatch the gates."
Keep that posture.
Like this?
Careful when you turn back!
I understand.
I shouldn't come this way?
- Like this?
- Yes.
And at that point...
You've been looking down,
but you straighten your body.
From the body first? I get it.
Unlatch the gates!
The bleeding doesn't look right
with his back to the camera.
Fix that, please.
Seen from the side,
one masks the other one.
I'd like one to be
half a pace behind the other.
Utter nonsense!
We'd be pleased to accept,
if you are alone, Father.
You are retired, Father.
You don't need your soldiers.
Open the gates!
"Unlatch."
Our work tools off the set:
these fragile cassettes recorded
by those close to Kurosawa
of conversations with him,
clips of the film Ran itself,
not yet pinned down,
and our miraculous video player
on which we watch his old films,
again and again.
- This and this are the same.
- Why?
I've got the same thing.
- That's mine!
- Is it?
We don't know how many there are.
Anyone without armour?
This horse? It's Saito's.
Idiot! Sorry.
We must avoid stealing
a beauty which is not ours,
playing with the backlighting.
Of course, something of the film's
beauty will get through,
but we shall try to show
what we see just as we see it.
Don't make me laugh!
I'm doing my best.
That's gone brown.
It's this shape because of my wig.
Where's the wig? Here?
My hair's long.
- This is real hair, this is the wig.
- More like an extension.
- This here is real hair.
- And from here it's a wig?
A U-shape...
- It's smooth.
- As long as you can't see the join.
Ouch!
- It's slipped!
- No, it hasn't, you liar!
And that?
That's my own.
- How about this here?
- Here?
1st November 1984,
10 in the morning.
Scene 53.
The troops
of Hidetora 's first son
- one dash on a yellow pennant -
gather in front
of the third son's castle.
Infantry and cavalry manoeuvre
on Mount Fuji's black soil.
The sky is overcast,
as required.
A light mist
lingers at ground level.
We don't yet know how quickly
the seasons here can change.
Where should they all go?
Where should they go?
This way.
We're going to start shooting!
Those at the sides, watch carefully!
Maybe you weren't told earlier,
but when you're standing
keep your left hand
on the hilt of your sword.
And your right hand
is 10 centimetres lower.
And when you're carrying your spear,
hold it with your left hand.
With your left hand,
on your right shoulder.
If you do that,
the tip will be at the right height.
This is the most important point.
Look carefully to left and right,
and don't hit the man's legs
in front.
Then put your left hand
back to the hilt.
Shall we change the course, then?
Well, this is the direction
they come...
That's the way.
It goes like this...
And Yonoda is right there.
Everyone turn right!
Kurosawa commands.
Since The Seven Samurai,
he's filmed important scenes
with three cameras.
For him, that's three
different angles to control,
for us, three chances
of ending up in the shot!
All day long we see him battling
the filmmaker's usual demons:
the actor sounding wrong,
the horse stumbling,
unwelcome gusts of wind
and the sun hiding during rehearsals
but coming out for takes.
This is best for us both!
Your voice is too high.
Say it lower.
If your voice is too high-pitched,
you have less presence.
Right now... no?
I don't know if it's my age,
but I've never been so exhausted
on a film set.
Glimpsing the peak
makes the mountain harder to climb.
And the slope of Mount Fuji
is so steep
that it's really hard
to walk forward.
I keep sliding down.
And the air pressure
is very different.
I thought I was going deaf,
but I held my nose and breathed,
and it clicked.
Like being on a plane.
Anyway, I've walked a lot.
- A little bit more.
- Move forward!
When it becomes necessary
to scatter cement powder
for the horses' hooves
to kick up,
assistant director and continuity
get stuck in with the grips.
It's as if everyone, despite
their professional credentials,
considers the film
a collective enterprise,
for which no task is too menial.
We see Kurosawa 's closest aide
helping with the make-up,
the gaffer cutting the grass
with the set designer,
the clapper boy
rehearsing stunts...
Most unusual!
Ready?
Everybody ready?
Say it clearly.
Get them to turn along this line.
OK, understood!
You forget everything!
Come on the inside.
Join the formation.
What are you doing? Get over here!
You should be behind this horse.
Is there a gap there?
Then move the horse forward.
Just wait a little bit longer.
Just wait a little bit longer.
Just when everything's ready,
the wind dies away.
The flag's not fluttering, is it?
No, we're waiting for the wind.
I know there's no wind.
- Is it moving?
- It's fluttering.
It's whipping!
Ready!
Start!
Open the gates!
Ton-chan, this way! Move forward!
Odo! Move forward,
closer to the wall!
Not too far that way.
Come this way, to the camera.
There are plenty of young faces
in the crew,
but most of Kurosawa 's people
have been with him
for a dozen films.
Ishiro Honda,
the creator of Godzilla,
was an assistant with him
in the 1930s.
Asakazu Nakai
filmed The Seven Samurai,
Cobweb Castle and Kagemusha,
along with Takao Saito.
Only they could interpret
the three-camera instructions.
Yoshiro Muraki is always
production designer.
For Red Beard, he filled
the drawers with real medicine,
even though the drawers
were never opened.
The sound for The Hidden Fortress,
Kagemusha and Dodesukaden
was recorded by Fumio Yanoguchi.
The gaffer Takeharu Sano
only began with Kagemusha,
but he's now one
of the loyal inner circle.
Seven, like the Samurai.
The seventh is Teruyo Nogami,
on the set, at the editing,
technician,
diplomat and confidante,
and the veteran, since she was
continuity girl on Rashomon.
Fumiaka Okada was already
assistant director on Kagemusha.
Yes, that's the position.
OK, let's take one step forward.
One step forward!
We marvel:
"Those eyes saw Mifune shot
with arrows in Cobweb Castle,
or watched him run through
a young Nakadai in Sanjuro.
Those are the ears which recorded
the little song in Dodeskaden.
While editing this film,
we heard of Yanoguchi's death.
We remember his wit,
his kindness,
his elegance,
like a slim old cat,
and we dedicate to his memory
these shots of him working.
We get to know
the little solar system
orbiting around Kurosawa:
his chef,
the man who forecasts the weather,
Vittorio, the Italian assistant
who runs everywhere,
a visiting producer,
and some characters whose importance
we are not yet fully aware of:
the horses.
And, at the centre
of the system: Sensei.
We have also got in the habit
of calling him sensei, "master".
In all disciplines,
from ikebana to martial arts,
the sensei,
reaching technical perfection,
attains a sort of spiritual bonus.
The aura of respect
around Kurosawa
is totally unlike the fear
which those who lack his genius
like to impose on their film sets.
Like the sword masters of old,
Sensei ignores distractions.
He talks about the job in hand,
he reflects on experiences...
Asked why he does this or that,
he says, "It came naturally."
Are you all resting?
Until three o'clock, all right?
I wish the set
went on a bit further.
- Horsemen!
- Yes!
With the spearmen!
I don't want it to look
like they're just shooting horses.
It looks like a castle in the fog.
It only comes this far across...
Let me see...
We could do something bold,
and add some on.
We could trim this a bit.
It's not the right side but it's OK,
because we only need roofs.
When the sun comes out,
start shooting.
Here, thanks.
The speed and the simplicity
of the means are impressive.
The crew moves between castles,
dismantling and transporting
gantries and spotlights.
And, in less time
than a game of billiards,
Sensei has shot
seven battle scenes.
As if they all had a double,
a handyman kagemusha!
Like this?
Yes, that's it. Do it like that.
You should be watching like this,
hold the sword and charge!
The second son
dismisses the vassals
who have betrayed
his brother for him,
for the good reason that they
could very well betray him too.
Sensei is in an excellent mood.
It won't last.
Oh, sorry!
Let's do that again.
And don't leave Ito
behind the other three.
Not one after the other.
Can't you come forward together?
On the horses.
Both together.
Calm down, Ikoma!
If the person on the horse is tense,
that's bound to happen.
Now go back.
Go back, I said.
More clearly.
If you're facing that way,
we can't see.
No! Everyone on the horses
is too tense.
It makes the horses skittish.
Ride them more calmly.
I always end up using horses.
Maybe it's because I like them.
Especially Yama-san's horses.
The horse
is sort of the main character.
It's nice
before we start shooting.
Early morning, still dark,
leaving the hotel...
Driving up Mount Fuji
in the early light of day.
People opening up
the cars and trucks,
taking out their armour and so on...
Actors in armour,
leading their horses.
Stop it! What a silly horse you are!
Wait, stay there... That's it.
We put those braziers
on the set.
Soldiers standing around braziers...
That's a good scene.
Soldiers standing around
in that wide open space.
An excellent scene, but no one
would think of filming that.
There have been
lots of horses in Kurosawa 's life,
since this childhood scene.
Horses are not rare in cinema.
But is it just by chance
that when "Macbeth" Mifune
is mulling over ideas of murder
stirred up by his wife,
a white horse paces round and round
in the courtyard behind him?
Is it by chance
that twice in Kagemusha,
a horse denounces the impostor
by throwing him?
Or, rather, the imposter is fishing
for proof of his authenticity.
Once the sentence is passed,
the truth-revealing horse
remains like a black devil
in a shot of horses and rain
familiar to us from elsewhere.
When John Ford met Kurosawa,
he said,
"You really like rain."
Sensei replied,
"You've watched my films carefully."
16th November, 10 in the morning.
Does he like this rain, which has
stopped filming for two days?
Toru Takemitsu,
composer of the original music,
fragments of which you've been
hearing during this film,
comes to get a feel for the set.
He hasn't seen the castles before.
Makie:
the traditional art
of applying gold to lacquervvork.
Kurosawa wants a night scene
to evoke this effect.
To this end, he's having
a field of wild grass painted gold.
The whole crew
become jolly harvesters,
like in a Soviet film of the 1950s.
We'll soon be finished.
If the bottom leaves are good,
keep them.
I'll use them by the water.
The young leaves are good.
Careful not to damage the ears.
Sensei meditates among the grass.
He waits for the tracking shot
to be ready,
looks through the camera,
asks for more track to be added,
goes back to meditating,
returns to the camera...
It's noon. Night falls at five.
Honma, can you bring me
one more box!
For this scene
Sensei has drawn a moon,
the like of which
no one has seen since Mlis.
By 8, all is ready for a first take.
Whenever you're ready!
Ready...
Start!
Light torches!
Yes. That was fine, wasn't it?
Nice work, Mr Moon!
"Nice work, Mr Moon!" says Sensei.
It's 10 p.m. and they pack up.
Kurosawa gives his instructions
for the next day.
He's been commanding operations
since 10 this morning.
This scene is cut
during the editing.
1st September 1923.
A huge earthquake hit the Japanese
coast from Yokohama to Tokyo.
Then came the fires,
and a night of horror - a date
in the history of human stupidity.
The citizens of Tokyo massacred
hundreds of Koreans
whom they blamed
for the earthquake.
A "final solution" for immigration
before its time.
The next day,
13-year-old Akira Kurosawa
was taken round the ruins
by his brother.
He wanted to close his eyes
to the swollen, disfigured bodies
in the Sumida River,
but his brother made him
keep his eyes open.
In his autobiography, Kurosawa
recalled his brother's words:
"Shut your eyes to scary things
and you'll be more frightened.
Look directly at them and nothing
will scare you ever again."
9th November 1984.
Over 60 years after
his first encounter with horror,
Sensei must once again tackle
human cruelty in his film.
Hey, check that leg!
Turn the face to the ground.
A bit more.
He doesn't like us lingering
on this aspect of his work,
as if he were obsessed
with violence.
For him, he says, these are mere
technical problems to be solved.
He's already on the ground
when he's like that?
That's enough, isn't it?
We'll do your back later.
The smoke is supposed
to be in the shot.
The smoke is out of the frame.
Dai-chan, to the right!
Watch carefully.
The smoke's staying too low.
You weren't watching
where it was going.
It's no good like that.
Just keep calm.
Camera here, object here,
and the smoke in between.
You should walk through once.
I hate the sight of blood.
I was once told,
by Masayuki Mori,
that I'm someone
who's easily scared.
And he asked me if...
if I hated bloody scenes
and things like that.
I said he was right.
I asked him how he knew
and he said,
"Because you have a vivid memory."
I don't know if I get scared
because I pay close attention,
or if I pay close attention
because I'm scared!
Probably, when I'm on the set,
I can express that sort of thing
in great detail in my films.
I don't really know.
But I don't like it at all.
A close-up! You're being filmed!
Don't look at the camera.
No one'll see you in the film.
Make the most of it!
Do they know your name?
- Write your name for them.
- On your chest.
NAMELESS WARRIORS ON MOUNT FUJI
- He should come forward.
- Kato, move forward!
Come this way.
This way.
Those people there
aren't in the shot.
Where do you think
you're running to?
Come from the left.
We're setting up the shot!
Get back! Get back!
You didn't move back in time,
and this happens!
I can't see the horses or anything.
Ready...
Start!
Cut!
Niizaki, there's no point
falling down there.
He acted it well.
Ready...
Start!
Cut!
OK, then... Bring some cold water.
Bring us some cold water.
- How's the fire?
- The people behind?
Wait for it...
Draw your bows!
Fire!
One side isn't alight.
Wonderful!
Yes, that way, that way...
It's really hard to wind!
You have to wind
as fast as he's running.
Ready!
Ready...
Start!
The lunch break also offers
the chance to warm up.
Hot soup, rice
and lunch boxes stacked
with neatness and precision.
It's getting colder
on the slopes of Mount Fuji,
which is never caught on film,
but whose presence weighs on us.
Its snowcap has doubled in size,
and everyone knows
that snow would stop filming.
Kurosawa is now also battling
against the weather.
Each foggy day is a serious threat
to the film.
Anyone not finished their lunch yet?
Once you take your clothes off,
you don't feel the cold any more.
One o'clock.
Shooting is called off,
and in the icy wind
the extras get dressed quickly.
In the fog, the archers could
no longer see their arrowheads.
Nothing could be done.
The horses go back
in their trailers.
Brought from America
in the spring,
they've known Kyushu's summer heat
and charged heroically on grass.
Now they are on the moon.
We watched as this polar station
quickly emptied.
In 30 minutes
the armour was gathered up,
the arrows packed away,
the spears tied in bundles.
The crew's cars and extras' buses
moved out
like a military convoy.
An orderly retreat.
Today, the fog won.
The fight between film and fog
becomes a guerrilla combat.
Sensei keeps his troops
always at the ready.
A clearing means a take.
Sometimes he improvises,
shooting a misty shot
to edit into the smoky scenes.
He hacks his film out of the weather
like a sculptor.
Get your bows ready.
Keep that rhythm.
Everyone do it together.
- Ready to go!
- OK!
Ready...
Start!
Horses!
And finally, the fog capitulates.
Stamp your feet!
With the sun back,
Sano's assistants draw
coloured strips on the reflectors,
his own invention for giving
each character a leitmotif of light.
These are the preparations
for the taking of the third castle
by the troops of two brothers,
in noise and fury,
in the chaos which gives
the film its title: Ran.
Like every morning at 10,
the white Mercedes drops Sensei off
by the first castle.
He is happy now.
Even the fog is on his side.
Once more he'll struggle
up the slopes of Mount Fuji,
once more he'll use horses
to depict the incisive movements
of these ancient Japanese warriors.
Sensei must indeed be happy.
Good morning.
How did the warriors of that time
come by that military spirit?
They had to be prepared
to die without hesitation.
Or, paradoxically,
they couldn't survive.
The concept of good and bad...
wasn't the same as nowadays.
They were more pragmatic.
When you look at
an ancient Warrior's writings,
you can see
how extraordinary he was.
But to a modern eye,
he may look
like a traitor and so on.
Merely to survive in that era
was very hard.
Everyone studied a lot.
They were all very well educated.
You can see that in their writings.
We'll start giving commands,
from "forward" to "stop".
Please pay attention.
Number one troop!
Second spear corps! Everyone!
When I say "forward", start stamping.
Forward!
One, two...
Left, right, left, right...
All in the same rhythm!
Left, right...
Everybody...
Stop!
That was excellent.
When you're climbing
the horses will slow down,
so don't follow too close behind.
Try to keep
the tops of the poles still.
I know it's difficult,
but do your best.
We don't need smoke at the back!
We don't need smoke there!
Who decided to do that?
We only need smoke at the front,
not at the back!
Time to eat!
We'll carry on after eating!
But we'll eat first!
So I saw this sign
which said "computer",
but when I picked up the handset,
the spring
wasn't even working properly!
The spirit of cinema is to show
people what they want to see.
Everyone's forgotten that.
If it's theatre,
you watch from certain angles.
There's the stage, the curtain,
the audience's seats...
They're the restrictions of theatre.
But cinema is different.
The cameras can get in
from every direction.
That's the character of cinema.
Ready...
Start!
Cut, cut!
A horse fell.
Cut!
Stop slowly!
This is what I always say
to my film crews.
To create something,
it must be based on memories...
Every night we watched TV,
and the tale it told
clashed with our everyday reality:
the black slopes of Mount Fuji,
historical characters
and the presence
of Akira Kurosawa.
30th October 1984.
Scene 40.
An old father shares his kingdom
among his three sons.
Shunning the most loyal, he faces
the ingratitude of the two others.
A familiar-sounding story...
Kurogane is there,
so he glances at Kurogane.
That's when I say "action".
Shall we do it like that, then?
When you're over there,
if you keep still it doesn't work.
...but for me to leave!
Open the gates!
Yes, that's good.
And then walk over there. Right?
Turn back unintentionally,
and then show surprise, OK?
That's important.
A long rehearsal.
Kurosawa often rehearses his actors
for hours,
just for one take.
No back-up takes.
The back-up is all in the rehearsing.
Tatsuya Nakadai plays Hidetora.
He's King Lear and not King Lear,
more like his echo,
bouncing among these castles
that Kurosawa has had built
on Mount Fuji's slopes.
Nakadai, the doppelganger hero
of Kagemusha,
has worked for Kurosawa
for over 20 years.
He's not the only example on the set
of this continuity.
Four of them?
Yes, four.
During this rehearsal
Nakadai gets his lines wrong,
using a more modern word
than the one he should say.
Kurosawa courteously
corrects him each time.
We shall try to convey
As you look at his face,
you stop straining and grow sad.
Go!
Too long.
- Open the gates!
- "Unlatch."
Yes. "Unlatch the gates."
Keep that posture.
Like this?
Careful when you turn back!
I understand.
I shouldn't come this way?
- Like this?
- Yes.
And at that point...
You've been looking down,
but you straighten your body.
From the body first? I get it.
Unlatch the gates!
The bleeding doesn't look right
with his back to the camera.
Fix that, please.
Seen from the side,
one masks the other one.
I'd like one to be
half a pace behind the other.
Utter nonsense!
We'd be pleased to accept,
if you are alone, Father.
You are retired, Father.
You don't need your soldiers.
Open the gates!
"Unlatch."
Our work tools off the set:
these fragile cassettes recorded
by those close to Kurosawa
of conversations with him,
clips of the film Ran itself,
not yet pinned down,
and our miraculous video player
on which we watch his old films,
again and again.
- This and this are the same.
- Why?
I've got the same thing.
- That's mine!
- Is it?
We don't know how many there are.
Anyone without armour?
This horse? It's Saito's.
Idiot! Sorry.
We must avoid stealing
a beauty which is not ours,
playing with the backlighting.
Of course, something of the film's
beauty will get through,
but we shall try to show
what we see just as we see it.
Don't make me laugh!
I'm doing my best.
That's gone brown.
It's this shape because of my wig.
Where's the wig? Here?
My hair's long.
- This is real hair, this is the wig.
- More like an extension.
- This here is real hair.
- And from here it's a wig?
A U-shape...
- It's smooth.
- As long as you can't see the join.
Ouch!
- It's slipped!
- No, it hasn't, you liar!
And that?
That's my own.
- How about this here?
- Here?
1st November 1984,
10 in the morning.
Scene 53.
The troops
of Hidetora 's first son
- one dash on a yellow pennant -
gather in front
of the third son's castle.
Infantry and cavalry manoeuvre
on Mount Fuji's black soil.
The sky is overcast,
as required.
A light mist
lingers at ground level.
We don't yet know how quickly
the seasons here can change.
Where should they all go?
Where should they go?
This way.
We're going to start shooting!
Those at the sides, watch carefully!
Maybe you weren't told earlier,
but when you're standing
keep your left hand
on the hilt of your sword.
And your right hand
is 10 centimetres lower.
And when you're carrying your spear,
hold it with your left hand.
With your left hand,
on your right shoulder.
If you do that,
the tip will be at the right height.
This is the most important point.
Look carefully to left and right,
and don't hit the man's legs
in front.
Then put your left hand
back to the hilt.
Shall we change the course, then?
Well, this is the direction
they come...
That's the way.
It goes like this...
And Yonoda is right there.
Everyone turn right!
Kurosawa commands.
Since The Seven Samurai,
he's filmed important scenes
with three cameras.
For him, that's three
different angles to control,
for us, three chances
of ending up in the shot!
All day long we see him battling
the filmmaker's usual demons:
the actor sounding wrong,
the horse stumbling,
unwelcome gusts of wind
and the sun hiding during rehearsals
but coming out for takes.
This is best for us both!
Your voice is too high.
Say it lower.
If your voice is too high-pitched,
you have less presence.
Right now... no?
I don't know if it's my age,
but I've never been so exhausted
on a film set.
Glimpsing the peak
makes the mountain harder to climb.
And the slope of Mount Fuji
is so steep
that it's really hard
to walk forward.
I keep sliding down.
And the air pressure
is very different.
I thought I was going deaf,
but I held my nose and breathed,
and it clicked.
Like being on a plane.
Anyway, I've walked a lot.
- A little bit more.
- Move forward!
When it becomes necessary
to scatter cement powder
for the horses' hooves
to kick up,
assistant director and continuity
get stuck in with the grips.
It's as if everyone, despite
their professional credentials,
considers the film
a collective enterprise,
for which no task is too menial.
We see Kurosawa 's closest aide
helping with the make-up,
the gaffer cutting the grass
with the set designer,
the clapper boy
rehearsing stunts...
Most unusual!
Ready?
Everybody ready?
Say it clearly.
Get them to turn along this line.
OK, understood!
You forget everything!
Come on the inside.
Join the formation.
What are you doing? Get over here!
You should be behind this horse.
Is there a gap there?
Then move the horse forward.
Just wait a little bit longer.
Just wait a little bit longer.
Just when everything's ready,
the wind dies away.
The flag's not fluttering, is it?
No, we're waiting for the wind.
I know there's no wind.
- Is it moving?
- It's fluttering.
It's whipping!
Ready!
Start!
Open the gates!
Ton-chan, this way! Move forward!
Odo! Move forward,
closer to the wall!
Not too far that way.
Come this way, to the camera.
There are plenty of young faces
in the crew,
but most of Kurosawa 's people
have been with him
for a dozen films.
Ishiro Honda,
the creator of Godzilla,
was an assistant with him
in the 1930s.
Asakazu Nakai
filmed The Seven Samurai,
Cobweb Castle and Kagemusha,
along with Takao Saito.
Only they could interpret
the three-camera instructions.
Yoshiro Muraki is always
production designer.
For Red Beard, he filled
the drawers with real medicine,
even though the drawers
were never opened.
The sound for The Hidden Fortress,
Kagemusha and Dodesukaden
was recorded by Fumio Yanoguchi.
The gaffer Takeharu Sano
only began with Kagemusha,
but he's now one
of the loyal inner circle.
Seven, like the Samurai.
The seventh is Teruyo Nogami,
on the set, at the editing,
technician,
diplomat and confidante,
and the veteran, since she was
continuity girl on Rashomon.
Fumiaka Okada was already
assistant director on Kagemusha.
Yes, that's the position.
OK, let's take one step forward.
One step forward!
We marvel:
"Those eyes saw Mifune shot
with arrows in Cobweb Castle,
or watched him run through
a young Nakadai in Sanjuro.
Those are the ears which recorded
the little song in Dodeskaden.
While editing this film,
we heard of Yanoguchi's death.
We remember his wit,
his kindness,
his elegance,
like a slim old cat,
and we dedicate to his memory
these shots of him working.
We get to know
the little solar system
orbiting around Kurosawa:
his chef,
the man who forecasts the weather,
Vittorio, the Italian assistant
who runs everywhere,
a visiting producer,
and some characters whose importance
we are not yet fully aware of:
the horses.
And, at the centre
of the system: Sensei.
We have also got in the habit
of calling him sensei, "master".
In all disciplines,
from ikebana to martial arts,
the sensei,
reaching technical perfection,
attains a sort of spiritual bonus.
The aura of respect
around Kurosawa
is totally unlike the fear
which those who lack his genius
like to impose on their film sets.
Like the sword masters of old,
Sensei ignores distractions.
He talks about the job in hand,
he reflects on experiences...
Asked why he does this or that,
he says, "It came naturally."
Are you all resting?
Until three o'clock, all right?
I wish the set
went on a bit further.
- Horsemen!
- Yes!
With the spearmen!
I don't want it to look
like they're just shooting horses.
It looks like a castle in the fog.
It only comes this far across...
Let me see...
We could do something bold,
and add some on.
We could trim this a bit.
It's not the right side but it's OK,
because we only need roofs.
When the sun comes out,
start shooting.
Here, thanks.
The speed and the simplicity
of the means are impressive.
The crew moves between castles,
dismantling and transporting
gantries and spotlights.
And, in less time
than a game of billiards,
Sensei has shot
seven battle scenes.
As if they all had a double,
a handyman kagemusha!
Like this?
Yes, that's it. Do it like that.
You should be watching like this,
hold the sword and charge!
The second son
dismisses the vassals
who have betrayed
his brother for him,
for the good reason that they
could very well betray him too.
Sensei is in an excellent mood.
It won't last.
Oh, sorry!
Let's do that again.
And don't leave Ito
behind the other three.
Not one after the other.
Can't you come forward together?
On the horses.
Both together.
Calm down, Ikoma!
If the person on the horse is tense,
that's bound to happen.
Now go back.
Go back, I said.
More clearly.
If you're facing that way,
we can't see.
No! Everyone on the horses
is too tense.
It makes the horses skittish.
Ride them more calmly.
I always end up using horses.
Maybe it's because I like them.
Especially Yama-san's horses.
The horse
is sort of the main character.
It's nice
before we start shooting.
Early morning, still dark,
leaving the hotel...
Driving up Mount Fuji
in the early light of day.
People opening up
the cars and trucks,
taking out their armour and so on...
Actors in armour,
leading their horses.
Stop it! What a silly horse you are!
Wait, stay there... That's it.
We put those braziers
on the set.
Soldiers standing around braziers...
That's a good scene.
Soldiers standing around
in that wide open space.
An excellent scene, but no one
would think of filming that.
There have been
lots of horses in Kurosawa 's life,
since this childhood scene.
Horses are not rare in cinema.
But is it just by chance
that when "Macbeth" Mifune
is mulling over ideas of murder
stirred up by his wife,
a white horse paces round and round
in the courtyard behind him?
Is it by chance
that twice in Kagemusha,
a horse denounces the impostor
by throwing him?
Or, rather, the imposter is fishing
for proof of his authenticity.
Once the sentence is passed,
the truth-revealing horse
remains like a black devil
in a shot of horses and rain
familiar to us from elsewhere.
When John Ford met Kurosawa,
he said,
"You really like rain."
Sensei replied,
"You've watched my films carefully."
16th November, 10 in the morning.
Does he like this rain, which has
stopped filming for two days?
Toru Takemitsu,
composer of the original music,
fragments of which you've been
hearing during this film,
comes to get a feel for the set.
He hasn't seen the castles before.
Makie:
the traditional art
of applying gold to lacquervvork.
Kurosawa wants a night scene
to evoke this effect.
To this end, he's having
a field of wild grass painted gold.
The whole crew
become jolly harvesters,
like in a Soviet film of the 1950s.
We'll soon be finished.
If the bottom leaves are good,
keep them.
I'll use them by the water.
The young leaves are good.
Careful not to damage the ears.
Sensei meditates among the grass.
He waits for the tracking shot
to be ready,
looks through the camera,
asks for more track to be added,
goes back to meditating,
returns to the camera...
It's noon. Night falls at five.
Honma, can you bring me
one more box!
For this scene
Sensei has drawn a moon,
the like of which
no one has seen since Mlis.
By 8, all is ready for a first take.
Whenever you're ready!
Ready...
Start!
Light torches!
Yes. That was fine, wasn't it?
Nice work, Mr Moon!
"Nice work, Mr Moon!" says Sensei.
It's 10 p.m. and they pack up.
Kurosawa gives his instructions
for the next day.
He's been commanding operations
since 10 this morning.
This scene is cut
during the editing.
1st September 1923.
A huge earthquake hit the Japanese
coast from Yokohama to Tokyo.
Then came the fires,
and a night of horror - a date
in the history of human stupidity.
The citizens of Tokyo massacred
hundreds of Koreans
whom they blamed
for the earthquake.
A "final solution" for immigration
before its time.
The next day,
13-year-old Akira Kurosawa
was taken round the ruins
by his brother.
He wanted to close his eyes
to the swollen, disfigured bodies
in the Sumida River,
but his brother made him
keep his eyes open.
In his autobiography, Kurosawa
recalled his brother's words:
"Shut your eyes to scary things
and you'll be more frightened.
Look directly at them and nothing
will scare you ever again."
9th November 1984.
Over 60 years after
his first encounter with horror,
Sensei must once again tackle
human cruelty in his film.
Hey, check that leg!
Turn the face to the ground.
A bit more.
He doesn't like us lingering
on this aspect of his work,
as if he were obsessed
with violence.
For him, he says, these are mere
technical problems to be solved.
He's already on the ground
when he's like that?
That's enough, isn't it?
We'll do your back later.
The smoke is supposed
to be in the shot.
The smoke is out of the frame.
Dai-chan, to the right!
Watch carefully.
The smoke's staying too low.
You weren't watching
where it was going.
It's no good like that.
Just keep calm.
Camera here, object here,
and the smoke in between.
You should walk through once.
I hate the sight of blood.
I was once told,
by Masayuki Mori,
that I'm someone
who's easily scared.
And he asked me if...
if I hated bloody scenes
and things like that.
I said he was right.
I asked him how he knew
and he said,
"Because you have a vivid memory."
I don't know if I get scared
because I pay close attention,
or if I pay close attention
because I'm scared!
Probably, when I'm on the set,
I can express that sort of thing
in great detail in my films.
I don't really know.
But I don't like it at all.
A close-up! You're being filmed!
Don't look at the camera.
No one'll see you in the film.
Make the most of it!
Do they know your name?
- Write your name for them.
- On your chest.
NAMELESS WARRIORS ON MOUNT FUJI
- He should come forward.
- Kato, move forward!
Come this way.
This way.
Those people there
aren't in the shot.
Where do you think
you're running to?
Come from the left.
We're setting up the shot!
Get back! Get back!
You didn't move back in time,
and this happens!
I can't see the horses or anything.
Ready...
Start!
Cut!
Niizaki, there's no point
falling down there.
He acted it well.
Ready...
Start!
Cut!
OK, then... Bring some cold water.
Bring us some cold water.
- How's the fire?
- The people behind?
Wait for it...
Draw your bows!
Fire!
One side isn't alight.
Wonderful!
Yes, that way, that way...
It's really hard to wind!
You have to wind
as fast as he's running.
Ready!
Ready...
Start!
The lunch break also offers
the chance to warm up.
Hot soup, rice
and lunch boxes stacked
with neatness and precision.
It's getting colder
on the slopes of Mount Fuji,
which is never caught on film,
but whose presence weighs on us.
Its snowcap has doubled in size,
and everyone knows
that snow would stop filming.
Kurosawa is now also battling
against the weather.
Each foggy day is a serious threat
to the film.
Anyone not finished their lunch yet?
Once you take your clothes off,
you don't feel the cold any more.
One o'clock.
Shooting is called off,
and in the icy wind
the extras get dressed quickly.
In the fog, the archers could
no longer see their arrowheads.
Nothing could be done.
The horses go back
in their trailers.
Brought from America
in the spring,
they've known Kyushu's summer heat
and charged heroically on grass.
Now they are on the moon.
We watched as this polar station
quickly emptied.
In 30 minutes
the armour was gathered up,
the arrows packed away,
the spears tied in bundles.
The crew's cars and extras' buses
moved out
like a military convoy.
An orderly retreat.
Today, the fog won.
The fight between film and fog
becomes a guerrilla combat.
Sensei keeps his troops
always at the ready.
A clearing means a take.
Sometimes he improvises,
shooting a misty shot
to edit into the smoky scenes.
He hacks his film out of the weather
like a sculptor.
Get your bows ready.
Keep that rhythm.
Everyone do it together.
- Ready to go!
- OK!
Ready...
Start!
Horses!
And finally, the fog capitulates.
Stamp your feet!
With the sun back,
Sano's assistants draw
coloured strips on the reflectors,
his own invention for giving
each character a leitmotif of light.
These are the preparations
for the taking of the third castle
by the troops of two brothers,
in noise and fury,
in the chaos which gives
the film its title: Ran.
Like every morning at 10,
the white Mercedes drops Sensei off
by the first castle.
He is happy now.
Even the fog is on his side.
Once more he'll struggle
up the slopes of Mount Fuji,
once more he'll use horses
to depict the incisive movements
of these ancient Japanese warriors.
Sensei must indeed be happy.
Good morning.
How did the warriors of that time
come by that military spirit?
They had to be prepared
to die without hesitation.
Or, paradoxically,
they couldn't survive.
The concept of good and bad...
wasn't the same as nowadays.
They were more pragmatic.
When you look at
an ancient Warrior's writings,
you can see
how extraordinary he was.
But to a modern eye,
he may look
like a traitor and so on.
Merely to survive in that era
was very hard.
Everyone studied a lot.
They were all very well educated.
You can see that in their writings.
We'll start giving commands,
from "forward" to "stop".
Please pay attention.
Number one troop!
Second spear corps! Everyone!
When I say "forward", start stamping.
Forward!
One, two...
Left, right, left, right...
All in the same rhythm!
Left, right...
Everybody...
Stop!
That was excellent.
When you're climbing
the horses will slow down,
so don't follow too close behind.
Try to keep
the tops of the poles still.
I know it's difficult,
but do your best.
We don't need smoke at the back!
We don't need smoke there!
Who decided to do that?
We only need smoke at the front,
not at the back!
Time to eat!
We'll carry on after eating!
But we'll eat first!
So I saw this sign
which said "computer",
but when I picked up the handset,
the spring
wasn't even working properly!
The spirit of cinema is to show
people what they want to see.
Everyone's forgotten that.
If it's theatre,
you watch from certain angles.
There's the stage, the curtain,
the audience's seats...
They're the restrictions of theatre.
But cinema is different.
The cameras can get in
from every direction.
That's the character of cinema.
Ready...
Start!
Cut, cut!
A horse fell.
Cut!
Stop slowly!