Part of the Picture: Fog Dissection
FOG DISSECTION
AUG 30, 2008 – WHEN AKIRA KUROSAWA TOOK ON Macbeth, he saw several things the Bard didn’t. He saw one witch, not three. He saw Duncan not as a noble paterfamilias but a treacherous king, who seized his throne by murdering its previous occupant. He saw Lady Macbeth not as a guilt-wracked sleepwalker, but a pitiful wretch crouched before an empty vessel, scrubbing her hands free of blood in the non-existent water. And he saw fog – lots and lots of fog, which is, in fact, the first thing we see in Throne of Blood, as it sweeps across the mountainside over a disembodied Noh chorus, weeping over the remains of a kingdom maimed by a series of bloody episodes. “Look upon the ruins of the castle of delusion / Haunted only now by the spirits of those who perished / A scene of carnage born of consuming desire / Never changing now and throughout eternity.”
This fog permeates the final frames too – not just in the bookending counterpart of the chorus, but in the image a little earlier, of Macbeth (here Washizu, played by Toshirô Mifune) riddled with arrows, a porcupine emperor staggering out of his castle and dropping to death before his unmoving, unpitying army. And it’s while galloping through fog that a lone rider sets the story in motion, bearing bad tidings of war. He dismounts at the castle gate, and, barely able to stand, he knocks hard. A trademark Kurosawa wipe later, he kneels in front of his king and spits his news out in staccato bursts. “Fujimaki mutinies at North Garrison. Caught unawares, fire ravages the Fourth and Fifth Fortresses.”
He’s asked about the Third Fortress. He replies, “The Third Fortress had no time to prepare itself.” He’s asked about the Second Fortress. He replies, “Fighting like a man possessed, Second Fortress commander Miki (the Banquo equivalent) has redeployed men of the Third Fortress.” He’s asked about the First Fortress. He replies, “As flames engulfed the Fourth and Fifth Fortresses, First Fortress, under commander Washizu, came under assault from Inui’s men, some 400 strong, who poured across our border full force.” Finally, he’s asked, “And how does Washizu fare in battle?” He replies, before collapsing, “A bitter fight.”
The august assembly is now worried. The warlord Odagura (Takashi Shimura) advises, “We must confine ourselves here. Striking at forces bent on victory will only bring greater injury to our men. First, post sentries at the edges of Spider’s Web Forest, divide our foe’s forces by luring them into its maze, and wound as many as we can. Then withdraw and barricade ourselves here. This would be my strategy.” There’s silence, as fog rolls over them – serenely unconcerned about these puny decisions of puny men – and then there’s a cry. “I bring word. I am a messenger from the Second Fortress.”
Kurosawa takes an agonisingly long time setting up these scenes. Just the instance of this messenger being ushered in, for example, appears needlessly detailed. Someone near the king gets up and announces, “Let him enter.” This cry is caught by a guard at a watchtower, who conveys it to the men at the gate, “Let him enter.” And then these men open the gate – slowly – to let him enter and deliver his good news. “Even as Miki’s valiant defense exhausted our foe’s strategies, Washizu tore through Inui’s lines at the First Fortress, raining arrows on their ranks.” And now, apparently energised by these tidings, the film loses its lethargy. Almost instantly, a third messenger gallops in with more good news. And almost immediately afterwards, a fourth.
Soon, we hurtle headlong into Spider’s Web Forest, where Washizu and Miki are lost. Washizu remarks angrily, “I have never seen such peculiar weather” – but it isn’t the fog he’s talking about. It’s rain. “Make haste,” says Miki. “I wish to see our Lord’s joyous face.” And they gallop through thunder and lightning, trying to find the way home. Suddenly, they stop. The rain has stopped too, revealing a brightly lit hut in a clearing where a strange old woman is humming a strangely prescient song. “Humanity strives all its days to sear its own flesh in the flames of base desire…” And, as if on cue, as if to tell us that the witch’s words have begun to cloud Washizu’s mind, the fog is back – intensifying as she reveals her prophecies, and spreading to blanket the forest. After the witch vanishes, Kurosawa slows the film down again, repeatedly giving us shots of Washizu and Miki darting about in zero visibility. Finally, the fog lifts, revealing – right in front of Washizu’s eyes, and almost as if it had gently nudged him towards his goal – what will preoccupy him thereon: the castle in the distance.
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Talking of Macbeth adaptations, Vishal saw 2 witches, not three.
Any chance of doing a take on Ikiru, probably the most maudlin of Kurasawa’s films?
And here is why Friday mornings are a washout in terms of action items accomplished
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Too many thoughts, too little time. So I’ll just mention the top 3.
1. Nothing on the real archers used to shoot Mifune in the final sequence? Everyone seems to think that it was virtuoso film making. As for me, the reason I felt a really strong conection to that scene was how much it reminded me of the Mahabharatha – Bhishma to be exact.
2. The arachnida associations in the nomenclature of places in the movie seemed to be a take off on Walter Scott’s Marmion Quote – ” Oh what a tangled web we weave, when we practice to deceive”. I dont know if others have thought this before.
3. I think the reason Kurosawa saw that much fog was not entirely independent of Shakespeare was it? After all he did say “Fair is Foul and Foul is Fair. Hover through the fog and filthy air”. Though I guess it took Kurosawa to use it as a tool for subtext.
Ah, finally a review of a Kurosawa film. I love this movie as I do most of the films (High and Low is the fave) made by the Kurosawa/Mifune pair.
I remeber reading in a biography of these two luminaries of Japanese cinema that the terror you see in Mifune’s eyes in the climax scene wasn’t acting – it was a genuine reaction to the fact that he was being showered with *real* arrows!
Aditya Pant: And male witches, too! Or should we say warlocks
I’ll look into Ikuru sometime, though I can never understand why so many people insist on comparing it with Anand.
Deepauk M: Dude, this is just a “part of the picture”
Nice point about the fog, and Welles’ Macbeth too has lots of fog. In general, the spooky nature of the play goes well, I guess, with the use of fog machines (for atmosphere).
Shalini: I’d go with Red Beard or Stray Dog, but yeah, they did an impressive number of “great” films. About the archers, Mifune apparently insisted that they get people who weren’t just good with the bow and arrow, but could hit targets while on horses — so, you know, he’d have a greater chance of getting out of the climax alive
Brangan: Agreed about the “part of the picture”, but Kurosawa’va pathi pesarennuttu ippadi Kaiya katti podalaamo?
. I havent seen, or even heard of actually, Welles’ Macbeth. Will look for it.
BR: Read this post. It talks about how Ikiru and Anand have little similarity except for a slight similarity in theme.
http://passionforcinema.com/ikiru-ka-anand/
read your post…any analysis on the ending of the film…i thought the final battle scene stands out as one of the best in the film…
Arijit: “final battle scene”? There’s no actual battle scene in the film. Or are you talking about how he dies in the shower of arrows?
Till date this is the only adaptation of Macbeth that’s managed to scare the pants off me.
It’s interesting that you saw the fog in such a visual manner because I’ve always seen it in an audio sense – that eerie hush that envelopes people lost in a dense fog also muffles the sound of Fate on the march and insulates the characters from both, their own deepest desires and the desires that live in others.
The only time any of them can actually hear something is when the rain drives the fog away to reveal the witch, who isn’t even a witch but one of the Fates spinning her wheel.
God, I love this movie. And there could have been no better introduction to his work than this one.
Amrita: That’s a lovely take on the “audio” aspect of the fog. Thanks. But “visually” is how Kurosawa films strike me always — even the relatively static ones. Even that long, long walk in Stray Dog through the black market — it would be unwatchable (or plain boring) if you were just looking at it from a “content” POV. But *how* he films it all — that’s the thing.
This is the finest screen adaptation of Bard as far as i’ve seen(haven’t watched Ran).The move where the birds take over the Toshiro Mifune’s castle is also wonderful.One interesting aspect regarding this Kurosawa’s adaptation is that he completely eschews Bard’s ‘poetic dialogues’ in favour of ‘action’,i’ve not seen a single maker escaping Shakespeare’s powerful dialogues in adaptions.Its a pity that RanganSir you just summarises international classics rather giving a full-fledged reviews.BTW have you reviewed any of Satyajit Ray’s movie?
abhishek: Don’t know if this is your first time here, but this series is just a bit of rambling about a “portion” of the film. It’s not a “review” in any sense. And no, Ray isn’t part of this because the brief is international cinema. About the dialogues, I think Kurosawa does have a lot of it — perhaps not the Shakespearean version, but his own take on those lines. The scene with the witch has a long stretch of “poetic dialogue,” as you put it – so also the scene where husband and wife plan the murder.
Oh absolutely! If you haven’t read his memoirs (Something Like An Autobiography) which tantalizingly stops just before 1950 when he was about to hit the international big time, you should pick it up. One of the things he’s very fascinated about the movies (and I’d forgotten prior to reading it how LONG he’s been making movies) is the importance of keeping a balance between the audio and the visual. It sounds so incredibly “duh” when you hear that but then you see it in context of his movies and it’s like someone drew the curtains open in a partially dark room.
It’s one of the reasons, I think, why I’m so in love with the Coens because they seem to instinctively apply the same philosophy to their work and they’re as firmly rooted in Americana as he was in his world.
yes…thats what i meant…his end at the hands of his own people…would have loved your comments on the ending…
Arijit: Too many thoughts about the ending to write here – but one thing that’s stuck with me since my first viewing is how *soft* those arrows seem. They’re like reeds, bending and accommodating as he brushes past bunches of them. But when push comes to shove, they *can* pierce a neck