My Two-Page "Rashomon" Paper

Akira Kurosawa’s Editing, Texture, Framing and Sound in “Rashomon”

After watching “Rashomon” in class, doing more research on the movie and Kurosawa via the Internet, and watching the Criterion Collection DVD at home; I first have to say that I am so happy to have had the chance to “totally geek out” over this two-page paper. Having said that, here are my thoughts about Kurosawa’s editing, texture, framing, and sound in “Rashomon”:

EDITING

Stanley Kaufman notes in “The Impact of Rashomon” that there are 407 separate shots in the movie. This is recognized as being a large number of shots for a movie during this time period. During the Woodcutter’s walk most of the shots are edited together so seamlessly that the audience is unaware that they are watching so many shots edited together.

Kurosawa doesn’t just edit seamlessly, though. He uses the editing process to highlight the action and move the plot. He sets the pace and then changes it by combining long shots with quick edits. During the fight scenes the shots are quick. When the lady is sitting alone the shot is static. Each choice sets the tone for each scene and carries the audience along as the stories are told.

For the most part Kurosawa uses straight cuts, but he also uses wipes and dissolves. The wipes are used to dramatically switch between the stories and the person testifying in the courtyard. By using a wipe the audience is “shocked” back into the courtyard and each character’s personal approach to their testimony and vice versa. A strong delineation is created allowing the audience to recognize that each account is the story of the person who is testifying. It is only at the end that Kurosawa uses dissolves. After the Commoner has taken the baby’s clothes and the Priest and Woodcutter are left with the baby, there is a long shot that dissolves into a medium shot which dissolves into a tighter two-shot. This editing choice eases the audience into the exchange between the Priest and Woodcutter and gently brings all parties to the point of resolution and hope at the end of the film. It is a visual “sigh of relief.”

TEXTURE

There are three distinct settings in “Rashomon” that are used very well to distinguish the mood of the film. Each setting is dramatically different.

Rashomon Temple is dark, devastated, and drenched surrounded by mud. It sets the tone of a world falling apart where hope is lost and provides the perfect setting for the emotional climate of the characters. I also found it unsettling that the Commoner took pieces of the temple to start a fire, and I believe that this is the desired effect. Even a sacred place is open for desecration during time of great upheaval. The temple has been burned and almost totally destroyed, yet it provides a bit of shelter and safety for the three characters to share their thoughts and experiences. It is literally a haven in the storm.

The woods are illuminated by sunlight through the trees causing a sense of reality and visual interest. At times the shadows are hard, and at times the shadows are soft. Each choice plays to the mood of the scene. “Rashomon” is widely noted as the first time (or one of the first times depending on who’s talking about the film) that a camera was pointed directly at the sun. This new experience for the film world and audiences added to the reality of the woodland setting. It was just like walking through the woods and looking up at the sun shining through the leaves. The sunlight even acts as a spotlight during some of the stories depicting the fight scenes and rape. It stands in contrast to the temple and the courtyard and seems to present a truthful environment, yet as we discover there is no truth. This is a purposeful choice by Kurosawa to further his message about truth in life. He creates a false sense of reality which supports his challenge to the audience about their beliefs about honesty and lies.

The courtyard is stark and brightly lit with only the witness in an area of shadow as they testify. It’s bright, white wall and stone background create a matter-of-fact, no nonsense atmosphere that is static and hard. It creates the serious nature of a courtroom where the truth is supposed to be discovered.

The use of these dramatically different settings creates visual interest moving the story of the stories along. They create known atmospheres, both physically and emotionally, which allows the audience benchmarks within the film; a sort of road map to watching the film, if you will.

I’d also like to note that the actors and their costumes also add texture to the film. Each choice strengthens the story line. There is contrast between the Samurai and his Wife with the Woodcutter, the Priest, the Bandit, the Commoner, the Medium and the Police Officer. Each has a different station in life as told through their costumes and their acting. It all adds to the texture of the film.

FRAMING

The framing or composition of the shots in “Rashomon” is used to create interest, to bring the audience closer, to move the audience back, to create a sense of motion and chaos, to heighten emotion, and to relax. It is all done to support the action of the film. Kurosawa said during an interview for a documentary about Kazuo Miyagawa that the camera was an actor in “Rashomon” because there is so little dialogue that the camera’s job is to tell the story much like a silent film.

One of the observations I made while watching the movie in class was that it reminded me of silent movies. I was delighted to have my observations confirmed while I did more research about Kurosawa and “Rashomon.” I found out that Kurosawa loved silent movies and used “Rashomon” to incorporate his love and his technique to bring back and fine tune silent film elements. I especially noticed it during the extended close-ups.

The effect of all the different camera angles and shot compositions edited together during the walk creates the impression of continuous motion that brings the audience deep into the woods with the Woodcutter as he first discovers the lady’s hat, the samurai’s cap, and the body. By combining long shots that change into close-ups during the walk what could have been a boring walk is transformed into a beautiful, yet long walk into an unknown area deep in the woods where the unexpected and tragic is acted out. We are transported to a different world allowing the audience to suspend their disbelief and go with the Woodcutter and all others on their journeys.

It is also interesting to note that what is not shown is just as important as what is shown. The murder and rape are not shown, yet they are the crimes that are being talked about. This lends itself to the film by showing that each person is telling their truth from their perspective motivated by their desires. Kurosawa’s message regarding the subjectivity of truth is strengthened through this framing choice.

The use of diagonals, triangles, and over-the-shoulder shots also supports the story and the visual interest and depth of shot in this film. I was struck by the strong diagonal blocking during the exchanges between the Bandit, the Samurai, and the Wife. It was exhilarating. Diagonals are always strong and lead the eye to a point of focus. These diagonal shots were many times from an over-the-shoulder point-of-view, which also heightened the depth of the shot. The triangular blocking during the exchanges between these three same characters highlights the triangle that they are a part of; the Bandit wants the Wife. The over-the-shoulder shots sometimes reminded me of an angel and a devil sitting on the shoulders of a character. I don’t believe this was intentional, nor were the other characters always on each shoulder; but it did add a sense of “what do those people think of this testimony” during the court scenes.

Through “Rashomon” Kurosawa does a masterful job of using tighter shots to bring the audience into the action purposefully and of using long shots to pull the audience out of the action and ease the tension purposefully. The framing is not always static like in the courtyard scenes where the camera takes on the judge’s point-of-view. The camera moves, pans, tilts, and does almost 360 degree turns which add to the constant movement and making that movement interesting during the Woodman’s walk for instance. Kurosawa used every frame of this film to move his story forward and support his message.

SOUND

Just like the camera in the film, the sound could almost be considered a separate character. It is more than just background music or ambience to fill the silence; it helps to create the mood of each scene. In fact, the absence of sound also creates tension and directs focus during some scenes.

Because there is so little dialogue in “Rashomon” just like silent films, the action and music during scenes tells the story. “Kurosawa felt that sound cinema multiplies the complexity of a film: ‘Cinematic sound is never merely accompaniment, never merely what the sound machine caught while you took the scene. Real sound does not merely add to the images, it multiplies it.’” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rashomon_(film)).

Beginning with the sound of the torrential rain during the opening credits and with the first scenes of “Rashomon”, it becomes apparent that sound will play an important role in this film. The rain is oppressive and seems inescapable. It is ever present and adds to the depressing nature of the scene between the Priest, the Woodcutter and the Commoner.

The music while the Woodcutter walks changes tempo and has strong drum beats that add to the changing moods during his walk. When he discovers each item, the music stops adding tension. This can be said of the entire movie. With the changing tempos and signature pieces moods are accentuated and views are shaped. The Samurai and his Wife have a signature piece when they are walking together, and this creates a sense of character and setting.

The use of Bolero-type music as a signature piece for the Wife has been criticized by some, but I found it beautiful and haunting. On the Criterion website on the “Akira Kurosawa on Rashomon” page, the following is written:

“As I was writing the script, I heard the rhythms of a bolero in my head over the episode of the woman’s side of the story. I asked Hayasaka to write a bolero kind of music for the scene. When we came to the dubbing of that scene, Hayasaka sat down next to me and said, “I’ll try it with the music.” In his face I saw uneasiness and anticipation. My own nervousness and expectancy gave me a painful sensation in my chest. The screen lit up with the beginning of the scene, and the strains of the bolero music softly counted out the rhythm. As the scene progressed, the music rose, but the image and the sound failed to coincide and seemed to be at odds with each other. “Damn it,” I thought. The multiplication of sound and image that I had calculated in my head had failed, it seemed. It was enough to make me break out in a cold sweat.

We kept going. The bolero music rose yet again, and suddenly picture and sound fell into perfect unison. The mood created was positively eerie. I felt an icy chill run down my spine, and unwittingly I turned to Hayasaka. He was looking at me. His face was pale, and I saw that he was shuddering with the same eerie emotion I felt. From that point on, sound and image proceeded with incredible speed to surpass even the calculations I had made in my head. The effect was strange and overwhelming.” ( http://www.criterion.com/current/posts/196-akira-kurosawa-on-rashomon )

Reading Kurosawa’s account of how the bolero rhythms and Bolero-type music became a part of the film is enough for me. I love to hear about or read about “behind the scenes” events that influenced an artist’s creative process. I loved hearing the Wife’s music and felt even more connected to the character and the story. Critics be damned; it worked for me.

The strength of the sound choices is not only in the music and rain, though. The sound of the swords striking each other, the ground and stump are all very strong and multiply the emotional experiences. When the rain stops at the end of the movie, it is like a curse has been lifted. The welcome silence, again, adds to the denouement of hope restored.

There is more that can be written about the editing, the texture, the framing and the sound of “Rashomon”, but for now I will leave you with two vocabulary words that I learned as a result of my research; leitmotif and mise-en-scene. As you know, “A leitmotif is a melodic phrase that accompanies the reappearance of a person or situation (as in Wagner's operas).” ( http://www.thefreedictionary.com/leitmotif ) “Mise-en-scène is a French term and originates in the theater. It means, literally, "put in the scene." For film, it has a broader meaning, and refers to almost everything that goes into the composition of the shot, including the composition itself: framing, movement of the camera and characters, lighting, set design and general visual environment, even sound as it helps elaborate the composition. Mise-en-scène can be defined as the articulation of cinematic space, and it is precisely space that it is about.” ( http://userpages.umbc.edu/~landon/Local_Information_Files/Mise-en-Scene.htm ) “Rashomon” is often mentioned when people give examples of both words.