A Contextual Analysis of Kurosawa’s High and Low
By Fabrizio Marsano, Edited by Bea Heard
On March 1st, 1963, Akira Kurosawa’s High and Low (Tengoku To-Jigoku) was released in Japan to general critical acclaim that only grew over time. Nowadays, it is widely regarded as one of the master director’s best works, and is consistently placed among the greatest films in cinematic history. It has been studied by countless scholars over the past fifty years, and influenced the likes of Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola, and George Lucas. Inarguably, High and Low is a timeless masterpiece.
The film stars Kurosawa’s recurring collaborator, the legendary Toshiro Mifune (Rashomon, Seven Samurai, Yojimbo), as Kingo Gondo, a wealthy shoemaking businessman. For the first hour of screentime, Gondo is faced with a moral dilemma: sacrifice his fortune to rescue his chauffeur’s kidnapped child. However, after Gondo agrees to the ransom, High and Low takes a drastic turn. It becomes a detective story as the police hunt down the kidnapper, who is ultimately captured and confronted by Gondo on death row.
Unsurprisingly, given this is a Kurosawa film, High and Low’s story covers a massive range of themes and ethical complexities. These include class struggle, post-war Japanese industrialization, corporate greed, and humanist morality. The plot and its underlying themes are masterfully furthered by the film’s numerous stylistic technical devices, which critics ever increased to appreciate as time went by. As Charles Higham puts it: “His [Kurosawa’s] mastery of the cinema’s technical resources is used to support an austere and rigorous examination of human weaknesses and aspirations” (Higham 739). This paper will serve as an exploration of the cultural influences that shaped High and Low, as well as how they are reflected in the film’s formal elements.
Part 1: Akira Kurosawa & A Changing Japanese Society
In order to analyze High and Low, it is necessary to understand both the context of post-war Japan as well as Kurosawa’s own life. This is because the film (and Kurosawa’s whole filmography) is strongly tied to the sociopolitical context of a constantly changing Japanese society. Kurosawa “came from a family of former samurai – samurai existed in the living memory of his parents” (Wild 11). However, he himself was too late to experience Bushido culture firsthand. He was born in 1910, about 42 years after “feudal warlordism came to an end...” (Wild 11) and since “Japan became a market economy, a process that had an enormous impact upon the political and social structure of the country” (Wild 11). In fact, Kurosawa lived much of his early life in Tokyo, an ever-growing industrial city, and only experienced the countryside whenever he visited his grandparents in Akita, a place he was always drawn to.
Consequently, the dichotomy between the modern city and the natural environment of the countryside that dominated Kurosawa’s early life had a significant impact on his works. Family ties to a traditional feudal Japan explain his love for adapting stories into samurai settings. Throne of Blood (1957) and Ran (1985), for example, are samurai film versions of Shakespeare’s Macbeth and King Lear, respectively. However, it is not only a feudal Japan setting that Kurosawa transposes European and Western literature to. Ikiru (1952) is inspired by Tolstoy's The Death of Ivan Ilych, and High and Low itself is an adaptation of Ed McBain’s King’s Ransom. Both of these films change the setting to a post-war Tokyo, and their characters contain humanistic moral values about honor, courage, etc., that parallel the Bushido ways of the samurai. Overall, Kurosawa seemed to accept Japanese modernity as a reality, yet still believed in the existence and rule of the traditional Japanese code of honor.
Additionally, it was during Kurosawa’s childhood and teenage years that he was first introduced to the filmmakers and writers that heavily influenced his career. “Between the ages of nine and nineteen, Kurosawa saw hundreds of films ... ranging from The Cabinet of Dr Caligari ... to the likes of Tartuffe, Metropolis and Battleship Potemkin” (Wild 15). His brother Heigo also played a significant role in his artistic formation. He was “responsible for introducing Kurosawa to the novels of Maxim Gorky and Fyodor Dostoevsky” (Wild 13), whose influence sparked his early interest in humanist beliefs. Heigo also introduced him to “the films of John Ford, Fritz Lang and Sergei Eisenstein” (Wild 13). Many consider Kurosawa as the most “westernized” Japanese director, and it is precisely his love for people like Ford, Lang, and Orson Welles that inspired him to use similar stylistic techniques on his films.
Furthermore, even though Kurosawa had already experienced WWI and the industrializing movement of the early 20th century Japan, there was yet another crucial period that drastically changed his world: the Second World War. September 2nd, 1945 marked the end of Japanese imperialism: “Japan’s unconditional surrender served to effect a complete change in the ideological outlook of the people from totalitarianism to democracy” (Takashima 91). The war left the country in ruins, almost everyone was starving, and millions were forced to return from Japan’s liberated colonies to the mainland. When General MacArthur announced the political changes for economic reconstruction, they “brought about a great confusion in their [the Japanese people’s] social consciousness” (Takashima 92). Thus, out of this void of political ideology came yet another dichotomy: capitalism vs. socialism.
As productivity began to recover in Japan, there was a massive disparity in the distribution of national income. There was despair “among the masses concerning the shortage of their daily necessaries, especially basic necessities such as clothing, food, and housing ... the masses unanimously complain against the heavy burden of taxation and its unjust distribution ... such efforts seem to be intensifying the conflict between the rich and the poor” (Takashima 99). Additionally, prior to the war, Kurosawa “joined the Proletarian Artists’ League and between 1929 and 1932 threw himself into the role of political activist” (Wild 20). Hence, accounting for both Marxist influences and for the socioeconomic issues of post war Japan, the relevance of class struggle in Kurosawa’s films cannot be overstated. High and Low’s plot is strictly based around the conflict between the poor masses and the rich elite.
All of the aspects discussed above, both about Japan and Kurosawa, are required to interpret High and Low in the most meaningful and contextual way possible. Influences of traditional Japan in an industrialized society, inspirations from filmmakers and writers,and the socioeconomic aftermath of WWII are all strongly present throughout the film. Thus, armed with such insight, the analysis of High and Low can proceed.
Part 2: Stylistic Analysis of High and Low
In this section, High and Low will be examined through four stylistic aspects: cinematography, mise en scène, editing, and music. The reason for this is because Kurosawa is primarily a technical director, driven by the visual and aural elements of cinema. “He [Kurosawa] once told Donald Richie that if he could have expressed the meaning of a scene in words, he would not have had to film it” (Prince 35).
Firstly, the focus will be on the cinematography. Throughout High and Low, Kurosawa’s meticulously fluid camera movements combined with deep focus help to both drive the plot and establish emotional and social relationships between the characters. This is especially noticeable during the first hour of the film, where the action takes place almost entirely within the hilltop mansion. For example, when Gondo reveals he has indebted all his estate (16:30), the camera follows Kagawa and Kawanishi as their shock forces them to sit down on the sofa alongside him. The shot lowers to Gondo’s eye level, sitting behind them like a mummer, which emphasizes their financial dependence on Gondo, both as a wealthy husband and as an elite businessman.
On the other hand, fluidity is also achieved by the extremely slow movement, if not stillness, of the camera. Consider the events at 38:39. Here, deep focus and an immobile camera are used to show the multiple characters in frame staring at the floor, reflecting. Kagawa is speaking in the center-background, focusing the viewer’s attention on her dialogue (à la Citizen Kane). A few seconds later, Gondo walks into the shot, and suddenly the characters and the camera start moving. In this sequence, Gondo’s power as a wealthy man is emphasized in his capacity to interrupt such stillness. The audience is illuded into thinking the transition arose naturally from his and the other characters’ movements, whereas in reality it is a product of Gondo’s socioeconomic influence.
Secondly, cinematography must work in tandem with the mis en scène to address the film’s topics. For instance, take the frame composition using deep focus at 26:43. Two detectives judgingly stare at Gondo, who has walked away in guilt for refusing to pay the ransom. Opposite him stands Aoki, ashamed and grieving for his son, while Kagawa sadly looks away and is close to the policemen. In this frame, Japanese class struggle is evident. Aoki, a mere chauffeur, cannot pay the ransom, so he feels shame and frustration for having to ask his boss to do it. While Gondo, a rich elite, is morally torn over whether to save his fortune or the life of an innocent child.
Another example occurs at 1:05:00. Takeuchi is disappointed that society sees Gondo as a selfless hero for saving Shinichi; he cannot accept the triumph of Bushido-influenced humanist morality over evil. Upset, he uses binoculars to stare directly up at Gondo’s mansion from his shanty. Metaphorically, he is in a distant hell, while Gondo lives in heaven (thus, the title High and Low). Additionally, the dichotomy between the countryside and the industrialized city is also present in the frame. Gondo’s mansion is surrounded by nature and under the sunlight, while Takeuchi lives in a dark ghetto. Kurosawa is “excited by violent extremes of human and phenomenal nature because they express ‘what is most alive’ ... Ford’s love of nature ... are reflected and enlarged” (Higham 739) in his films. Thus, High and Low depicts the Japanese proletariat as a victim of industrialization, deprived from the freedom that nature represents in Kurosawa and John Ford’s eyes.
Thirdly, the film’s editing also contributes significantly to the fluid development of the plot. “Kurosawa’s signature visual device is the wipe-cut ... it has a unifying effect even while it takes all the depth from the image” (Russel 9). In High and Low, the wipe is seen, for example, when Gondo goes to sleep at 34:07. It is a slow transition, yet it releases the tension that has been built up on screen. It marks the extended passage of time, and gives the audience an emotionally free moment (brief as it may be) to process what they just saw during the first half an hour of the film.
On the other hand, abrupt cuts are implemented during the flashbacks of the police investigation. Unlike the wipe, these startle the audience and bring their attention to the screen rather than away from it. The reason for this is that the crime investigation scenes are very information heavy, filled with small details that will be relevant later. However, direct cuts are not always abrupt in High and Low. As with the cinematography, Kurosawa also implements editing in relation to the movement of people/objects. When the policemen crawl out below the table at 47:53, the camera cuts in the middle of their movement to Gondo staring at the window, again symbolizing his social dominance over the crawling lower-class detectives. This rhythmic montage also keeps the pace of the story, and so the audience remains engaged with both the film’s characters and themes.
Finally, the music serves to give depth to High and Low’s atmosphere. When it comes to a Kurosawa film, “the sound track is never a mere accompaniment to the images, but is woven in with them” (Higham 739). This can be seen in High and Low’s case when, for example, Takeuchi walks along the vagabond alleyway near the end of the film. There is a slow, cryptic music that engages the audience’s curiosity about what is he going to do next. Before that, when he leaves the nightclub, a mixture of jazz and drums gives both excitement and coolness to his character as he loses himself in the crowds. The music directly changes the tonality and pace of the film, based on the mood that Kurosawa wants to set.
Conclusion
To summarize, Kurosawa’s masterful use of stylistic technical devices significantly furthered High and Low’s plot and underlying themes. In order to recognize such achievements, one must first understand both the context of Akira Kurosawa’s life (prior to 1963), as well as the history of early-mid 20th century Japan. Most notably, the influence of Japan’s post-WWII reconstruction and working class suffering had a deep impact on the film, as well as Kurosawa’s own Shinto beliefs concerning honor and morality. It is almost certain that the average viewer of High and Low will easily recognize its brilliance. However, the viewer who is aware of these cultural influences can access entirely new dimensions of meaning that are present in the film. Historical context is enough to dramatically change the viewing experience not just of High and Low, but of any movie with a long-lasting impact, and that fact alone makes it worth studying.
Works Cited
High and Low. Directed by Akira Kurosawa, Toho, 1 Mar. 1963.
Higham, Charles. “Kurosawa’s Humanism.” The Kenyon Review, vol. 27, no. 4, 1965, pp. 737– 42. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/4334603. Accessed 2 Dec. 2022.
Russell, Catherine. “Men with Swords and Men with Suits: The Cinema of Akira Kurosawa.” Cinéaste, vol. 28, no. 1, 2002, pp. 4–13. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41689542. Accessed 3 Dec. 2022.
Tezuka, Yoshiharu. Japanese Cinema Goes Global: Filmworkers’ Journeys. Hong Kong University Press, 2012. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt1xwffc. Accessed 3 Dec. 2022.
Takashima, Zenya. “THE SOCIAL CONSCIOUSNESS OF THE PEOPLE IN POST-WAR JAPAN.” The Annals of the Hitotsubashi Academy, vol. 1, no. 2, 1951, pp. 91–103. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43750602. Accessed 2 Dec. 2022.
Prince, Stephen. The Warrior’s Camera: The Cinema of Akira Kurosawa - Revised and Expanded Edition. Princeton University Press, 1991. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv10crg39.