Ikiru (1952)

Ikiru

Call No: TEMP 859
Note: Japanese film, English subtitles

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I put Ikiru into my DVD player. I’m not overly familiar with Akira Kurosawa’s work, but I did enjoy his film noir Stray Dog when I saw it a few years ago. I’m also no stranger to subtitles. I sat back and prepared myself to enjoy the movie. Believe me when I say that I was not at all disappointed.

The film is about Kanji Watanabe, an older man who has spent the last thirty years working for the city office. When he finds out that he has stomach cancer, he reflects on his life and feels that he hasn’t done anything worthwhile in his life. Though he has a few false starts, he soon finds something to drive him through the last months of his life. The film is poignant, moving, and thought-provoking.

The film is divided into two parts. The first part of the film shows us the everyday life of Watanabe and what happens when he receives the news. A little over halfway through the movie, the story shifts. The second part of the film takes place after he has passed away, while his family and co-workers talk about the wondrous change that has come over their friend and father. I felt as though the story picked up after the shift, as the co-workers try to untangle their own ideas behind Watanabe’s transformation by sharing their own experiences through flashbacks.

One of the things I find most appealing about foreign films is their ability to have dramatic moments without dialogue or sound. Unlike the typical Hollywood film, Ikiru doesn’t have scenes of drama where the music swells to further prove that something is going on. The drama is subtle and carried off delicately. It is in films like these where you can see the art of acting taking place. The one level is the ability to memorize the lines and walk through the scenes. The other level is to feel from the character’s perspective, to convey a feeling or a thought without saying anything. That is executed beautifully in this film.

Kenji Watanabe (left) preparing for the worst as he waits for his appointment

What makes this film particularly moving is its protagonist. He is a simple man with a simple life. He is a single father who has done all he can to raise his son Mitsuo, who has grown up and found a wife. When Kenji Watanabe finds out that he is dying, it is like watching a flag that has been ripped from the mast of a ship. He doesn’t know what to do. He turns to someone for help, then changes his mind. He does something good for someone and doesn’t know how to let go. We can sympathize with his restlessness, feel his hurt when he is scorned, and suffer his frustration when circumstances are against him. He is human, but not only that; he is the kind of person we can relate to, that we see in ourselves.

The film does an excellent job of questioning mortality and death, and what values a person can have in his or her life, without being preachy or showy. It doesn’t guilt us into feeling that we should be doing something grand with our lives. It’s too smart for that. Instead it shows us that it is never too late to turn something around. It’s never too late to start something new, finish something old, or just try again.