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Kurosawa, Akira, 1910-1998. . Something like an autobiography / Akira Kurosawa ; translated by Audie E. Bock. 0394509382 : series New York : Alfred A. Knopf : distributed by Random House, 1982.
Call#: Van Pelt Library PN1998.A3 K789413 1982

Something like an Autobiography is a first-hand account of director Akira Kurosawa's thoughts concerning his breakthrough film, Rashomon. About some thirty years after he directed it, Kurosawa recalls almost every aspect of the film, from the production, to the underlying message, to the film techniques used. His intentions for the film are precisely what film scholars and analysts have hypothesized in their work: that the film is about the inability of man to tell the truth without embellishment and without tendencies towards self-preservation, and that the cinematography, lighting and editing all contribute to the mood of the film.

However, what is most interesting is that Kurosawa applies these perspectives to his own life as well. In his book's epilogue, he relates the story of a studio director who boasts about the success of Rashomon, without even referring to himself (Kurosawa) or the cinematographer. The human weakness he portrayed in the film does surface in real life. He then goes on to describe his autobiography and how it is completely possible that he left out negative facets of himself and doubts complete honesty in its presentation, once again showing tendencies to show oneself in the best possible way.

The way in which Kurosawa relates the theme of Rashomon to his own life leads the reader to think about the film's relation to their own life as well. Because the director self-analyzed himself in the book, the reader's drive to self-analyze is made stronger. In addition, the degree of variation to the stories in Rashomon is large enough that it may render the film a bit unrealistic. The points-of-view of the characters are just so different that attributing it to the relativity of perception may seem like a stretch. However, Kurosawa's autobiography brings the theme of the film down to earth and emphasizes the question proposed in the film: how do humans represent themselves?

In a way, this first-hand account of Rashomon validates the analysis done on the film. The fact that the views of those behind the camera and those who only see post-production coincide is a testament to the effectiveness and success of the intent and the techniques used in the film. One should take this into account in assessing Rashomon's impact on cinema.

While the text doesn’t make many outright references to Ikiru (there are only two), the story of Kurosawa’s life allows for a deeper understanding of the reasons behind the directorial choices made in Ikiru.  The autobiography is divided up in a few different ways; one of which is a division into “eras” in the life of Kurosawa, such as “Rashomon,” which focuses on the making of the film and the enormous critical success it achieved overseas (it won the Grand Prix at the Venice International Film Festival and the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film).  The autobiography is also interspersed with memories from Kurosawa at from various points in his life, like the chapter, “Calligraphy,” which tells how Kurosawa learned the art from his teacher.  The autobiography ends with his thoughts on Rashomon, so Kurosawa never goes into detail about Ikiru (because Ikiru was filmed after Rashomon), but we get the groundwork for what would cause his interest in the subject matter of the film.
Discussing the film Drunken Angel, Kurosawa recounts, “As background to the characterizations, we decided to create an unsightly drainage pond where people threw their garbage” (156), which is an image that returns in Ikiru, although it has a different allegorical meaning.  Many plot elements and images from Kurosawa’s films were taken straight from his life (a point made by Goodwin in his book ), and Ikiru is no different.  Kurosawa says of the studio he began his career at, “Management theory at P.C.L. regarded the assistant directors as cadets who would later become managers and directors” (95).  The bureaucratic elements in the management system at P.C.L., that Kurosawa criticizes, has echoes in the stagnant and immutable Japanese civil service in Ikiru.
Events from his life also influenced Kurosawa in the existential themes he deals with in Ikiru.  Kurosawa recounts, in the chapter “A Horrifying Event,” an early scene from his childhood, when he and his brother walked around the city looking at the death and destruction caused by the Kato Earthquake.  His brother uncomfortably forces him to look at the hundreds of dead bodies, but when Kurosawa goes to sleep, he does not have any nightmares.  When the young Kurosawa asks why he didn’t have any nightmares, his brother responds, “If you shut your eyes to a frightening sight, you end up being frightened.  If you look at everything straight on, there is nothing to be afraid of.”   This message has deep significance to Ikiru, because Watanabe is only able to live when he confronts his cancer head on.  When he lies in his bed at home and cries himself to sleep, when he goes with the writer to experience the decadence of modern Tokyo, he is, in effect, trying to ‘shut his eyes’ to the cancer and ignore its existence.  Only when he faces it head on, does he realize that he has the power to give his limited life meaning.  There are many other events in Kurosawa’s life that have relevance to Ikiru, because it is a film about life itself and the search for meaning in life.  Kurosawa’s past offers insight into not only why the author chose to write about this subject, but also why he comes to the conclusions that he does.