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Call#: Van Pelt Library East Asia PL801.K8 R3 1917a 3.Ryunosuke,Akutagawa. Rashomon. London: Liveright Publishing Corporation, 1952. P33-45 ’Rashomon’
Lyman, Rick. “Akira Kurosawa, Film Director, Is Dead at 88: Akira Kurosawa, Director of 'Rashomon' and 'Seven Samurai,' Dies at
88.” New York Times 7 Sep. 1998: A1.
This obituary of acclaimed director Akira Kurosawa appeared in the New York Times September 7, 1998. As in accordance with the format of obituaries, the author, Rick Lyman, chronicles the details of Kurosawa’s death, life, and fame. He is humanized with demonstrations of his perfectionism, humble family life, and personal influences and experiences that help explain how this great man and his masterpieces came to be. Particularly informative was the anecdote provided about a trip taken in his youth with his brother, Heigo. The two visited the ruins of the once great city of Toyko after a massive earthquake and firestorm of 1923. When his brother forced the young Kurosawa to stay firm and look, Kurosawa developed the outlook that would define his aesthetic enterprises throughout his life. He learned that “‘to be an artist means never to avert one’s eyes.’” Such steadfast investigation into the physical world and the life that inhabits it brought about his unforgettable shots of the forests scenes, for example, in Rashomon. The influence of his brother Heigo is stressed in this article, mentioning Heigo’s taste of story-telling and speculation as to the emotional impact of Heigo’s suicide. Rashomon is mentioned as also introducing the now formulalistic style of narration, namely the recounting of one event through difference characters perspectives. The complex intertwining of characters and recolations highlight the unifying theme of what Kurosawa terms a “‘sinful need for flattering falsehood.’” Kurosawa communicates the plight of humans to always desire to better themselves with lies to listening ears, and laments the inability of humans to contentedly coexist with one another. Such themes bring Kurosawa’s work out of the brilliance of their setting into the history of cinematic culture and universal intercourse.
The benefit of obituaries in studying an artist and an individual piece of his work is that it allows one to put the two in the context of his life and body of work as a whole. The film Rashomon takes on a whole new perspective when placed into this longer framework. However, the individual analysis of the film itself is very insightful and would be valuable when used to specifically study of the film.
Wetmore Jr., Kevin J. “Modern Japanese Drama in English.” Asian Theatre Journal 23.1 (2006): 179-205.
This article discusses the modernization of Japanese dramatic mediums. In the late 19th century with the advent of the Meiji Restoration, Japan was opened up to the west politically, economically, and culturally. The conceptual challenge to Japanese theatre brought about the opposing strategies to either renovate traditional theatre or to implement entirely western models. Initially an attempt was made to maintain the traditional forms through the former path, including the reinvention of kabuki with shin-kabuki or “new kabuki” and then later with Shimpa or “New School” which incorporated Western storylines and playwrights with the traditional style and acting of kabuki theatre. Eventually, however, these failed attempts transitioned into a full application of Western models in the early 1900s with shingeki or “new theatre.” This new style marks a complete rejection of tradition, both in the realm of theatre but also in the greater context of Japanese cultural heritage. Shingeki placed emphasis on naturalism and realism, indicating its adherence to modernism. The American occupation between 1945 and 1952, however, brought about a new attitude towards Western views, translating as well into the now established new theatre styles. In the 1960s, the U.S.-Japan Mutual Security Treaty crisis of 1960 brought about the formation of a new form developed going by many names, including angora or “underground,” post-shingeki,” and shE gekijE undE or “Little Theatre Movement.” This new form attempted to reconnect with the lost traditions of the pre-modern Japan. The last thirty years show a growth in “modern pluralism,” blending modern and traditional techniques, including the English versions of many works. The author goes on to state that despite such reforms few modern Japanese artists, directors, actors, etc., receive much attention in English.
This article relates to my film because it deals with modernism and the translation of Japanese drama outside of the island. Kurosawa’s film is unique in its modern perspectives and narrative techniques, and its influence across the globe is seen in many contexts. Akutagawa Ryunosuke’s short story is mentioned in the article as an English playwrights using Japanese source material, and the film has influenced many remakes and reinterpretations, such as the films Vantage Point and The Usual Suspects.
Strass, Harold. “Glimpsed Behind the Japanese Screen Scene: Renaissance of Industry Due to Blend Of Commercial and Esthetic Values.” New York Times 2 Jan. 1955: X5.
This article appeared in the New York Times newspaper on Sunday, January 2, 1955. The author, Harold Strauss, is cited underneath the headline as having traveled in Japan and studied its culture. He mentions the then recent advent of Japanese film in the global critical eye. He then gives a brief history of film in Japan, beginning with its introduction in 1910. Notably, he describes the unique Japanese cinematic style as well as the production difference of about ninety percent commercial films to the ten percent art-house. However, this disparity, as he goes on to illuminate, is smaller than in most Western countries. The Japanese audience demands quality, even in the clearly commercial films, and critical recognition especially will influence the audience’s attendance. Kurosawa’s Rashomon was at first a failure in the Japanese box office until the film and its director received praise abroad. He then goes on to describe the five categories of commercial cinema in Japan as well as the different styles found and then compares them to genres in Western cinema. Kurosawa is again mentioned particularly as blending many genres in his films. In Rashomon, the Kabuki style is attributed to the forest scenes and the Noh style to the court scenes. Returning back to a historical, production aspect, Strauss goes on the relate how increased opulence occurred as a result of the country’s involvement in the Korean war. New talent was drawn into Japan, in both actors and directing. After the end of the occupation in 1952, these new players enjoyed an influx of free artistic expression, now with the means.
This article provides a key insight into Rashomon’s reception in the years immediately after its release, both within in home country and abroad. It also explicates specifics as to the styles and characteristics of Rashomon and Kurosawa, its director. Finally, it places the film and its director in the context of both Japan, in a cultural and artistic cinematic sense, as well as in the larger, global cinematic community.
Susan. “Confronting Master Narratives: History as Vision in Miyazaki Hayao’s Cinema of De-assurance.” Positions: East Asia Cultures Critique 9.2 (2001): 467-493.
Susan Napier’s article discusses the cinematic master narratives in the context of Japanese cinema and the larger global cultural consciousness. Its main subject is Japanese filmmaker Hayao Miyazaki, though his work is described in view of his contemporaries and influences. Napier begins by discussing the broad ideas of modernization vs. history and the role of cultural identity in art and cinema. She asserts that films have the power to “write history” and “create national identity” on the global stage. She points to the crucial post-WWII period in Japan when Japanese cinema first made its mark. Specfically, she credits Akira Kurosawa and his jidaigeki, “period films,” with their realism and dazzling visual aesthetics, as being the most influential Japanese filmmaker at the time. In his films, Kurosawa both “exploit[ed] and deconstruct[ed] the mythology of samurai.” His films powerfully brought humanity to the Japanese traditions and brought the past into the contemporary discussion of Japanese identity. Similarly, the animator Miyazaki, of the title of the piece, created scenes and characters that while being decidedly Japanese are individual in their personalities and actions. Notably, this characterization can be seen in Miyazaki’s many female protagonists, who stand out from their group-oriented traditional counterparts. The article then focuses on Miyazaki’s film Princess Mononoke, comparing it to the English powerhouse animation counterpart, Disney.
The relevance of this article to my project is found beyond the simple citing of Kurosawa’s influence and works. The real insights came from the comparisons of Miyazaki’s style and that of Kurosawa. Miyazaki is cited as criticizing Kurosawa’s formulaic depictions of good and evil in his samurai films. However, it seems clear in the larger sense that Kurosawa’s humanism did anything but adhere to clichés. He brought life into historical stereotypes. Furthermore, Princess Mononoke is praised as being “history as vision,” or representing in a new light a “historical reality,” recognizable yet distinctly unique. What style could better apply here than that of Kurosawa and his Rashomon-effect. Rashomon deals entirely with the reconstructions of identity through deceit and the power of perspective on redefining historical fact. The two directors offer a great deal of illumination to one another.
Brion, Denis J. “Pluralism: Rashomon and Contested Conceptions of Criminality.” (2006) Washington & Lee Legal Studies Paper No. 2006-11.
This paper is a Legal Studies paper written by Washington and Lee student Denis Brion in September 2006. In his paper, he uses the film Rashomon as the basis for his argument about pluralism in human perception carried into the various degrees of criminality. The film depicts four different reports of a violent crime in twelfth century Japan, told by three participators and one witness. These four perspectives are the extended to elaborate on the four modes of criminality and the four levels of individual human consciousness using the California Supreme Court case Taylor vs. Supreme Court as the specific case study. By providing a deep analysis of the aesthetics within the film Rashomon, Brion contends that the United States judicial system works as well by aesthetic acts. He begins by providing a close textual analysis of the four different storytellers in the film: the bandit, the woman, the man, and the witness. In parallel, he then goes on to closely evaluate the Taylor vs. Supreme Court case. Brion then extrapolates his argument into the subject of human nature playing its role in each case. After describing the four levels of consciousness alluded to above, he writes, in a phrase with which Kurosawa would surely agree with, that “perception is a hypothesis; and the reality we perceive is an interpretation.”
Primarily, this paper is extremely useful in a study of Kurosawa’s film Rashomon since it provides a scene by scene close textual analysis of the four different reports shown in the film. Furthermore, it provides a unique insight into the deeper human nature described in the film. Finally, its emphasis on a legal studies perspective in the discussion of the paper provide an important view on the nature of crime in the film, a point that is often overlooked in the greater narrative of perception.
The article “No Jade, No Peonies” by James Kelly appeared in the New York Times November 30, 1952. It is an introductory review to the translation of Ryunosuke Akutagawa’s book No Jade, No Peonies: Rashomon and Other Stories. The article focuses mainly on Akutagawa the writer rather than his specific works; though the story “Into the Grove” is focused upon. It is cited for its significance as the basis for Akira Kurosawa’s film Rashomon released the year before and accordingly the reason for Akutagawa’s recognition abroad.
The other works cited in this project focus on Kurosawa’s perspective on the story “Into the Grove” into his film Rashomon, and stress the director’s interest in the human use of facade to gain self-affirmation and thereby happiness. Overall, Kurosawa’s outlook on humanity is a positive one rather than inherently bad. Kelly, however, describes Akutagawa as quite different in his attitudes toward man. With “Into the Grove,” for example, Akutagawa was exercising a study in human “deceit, treachery, and heartlessness.” What are pitiable, indulgent lies to Kurosawa would be proofs of man’s innate wickedness to Akutagawa. This illumination between the source material and adaptation, therefore, is particularly interesting to a study of the film Rashomon. The dissimilar translation of the story from paper to film ironically fits rather well with a narrative concerned solely with individual perspective. The strict moralistic tones of Akutagawa still resonate within the film’s story, however, and it would be intriguing to study how both the filmmaker and original author complement each other. The two seem to share common traits despite their aesthetic leanings. Kurosawa attempted suicide, and Akutagawa died by suicide at the age of 35. The examination of the man Akutagawa helps illuminate Akira Kurosawa by association and also his film adaptation Rashomon.
Call#: Van Pelt Library PN212 .C47 1990
In the chapter A New Kind of Film Adaptation, Chatman counters the critique often aimed at film adaptations based on literature: that film adaptations take away from the audience's use of imagination by displaying everything on screen. Noted scholar Wolfgang Iser is quoted by Chatman saying that, "The point here is that the reader is able to visualize the hero virtually for himself. The moment these possibilities are narrowed down to one complete and immutable picture, the imagination is put out of action." Chatman argues that the imagination is not excluded by the visual medium of film and much can be left for the audience to imagine. In particular, dialogue and narration do not always present what the characters are thinking or feeling in film. For example, body language and expression often go unexplained by direct conversation or even diegetic context in the film.
Chatman mentions Rashomon as an excellent adaptation that invokes the audience's imagination. Although Kurosawa directly translates the dialogue and storyline from which the film is based onto the screen, the film still leaves it to the audience's imagination to try and resolve incongruities and figure out what actually happened. Each of the stories in Rashomon represents what the characters think and believe, however, imagination is not limited by this straightforward presentation of the characters' perspective. In fact, it turns out that these presentations are not straightforward after all. Although everything is presented to the audience visually, there is room to play with and entice the imagination of the audience.
In many ways, the term he uses, imagination, may be inadequate. What he is referring to is the workings of the human mind in its entirety. Rashomon inspires thoughts that do not fall under the scope of imagination, namely critical-thinking, rationalism and emotion. These thought processes make the audience active participants in the film.
Call#: Van Pelt Library PN1998.3.K87 P75 1999
To start with, the pictorial and cinematic work in Rashomon explores the confines of a single setting, the grove where the death of the samurai character takes place. Kurosawa works within this physical spatial limitation by expanding the dynamic space for his character's emotions and psychology through cinematography and imagery. For example, Prince suggests that the play on light and shadow creates "a kind of spiritual and emotional labyrinth," hinting at the emotional depth Kurosawa bestows upon his characters. Also, camera movement gives depth to the characters as well by panning, shaking -- mimicking their emotional state. Long tracking shots and "sensuous" camera movements follow the woodcutter as he wanders through the forest, whereas jolting and aggressive shots characterize the film after the woodcutter discovers the dead samurai.
Hence, Kurosawa experiments with the narrative by invoking emotional depth in cinematography. Rashomon is quite similar to silent films, where everything is communicated solely through the characters' movements and filming techniques. Kurosawa does not settle for the dialogue as his sole means of narrative, he employs every constituent aspect of the film to this purpose as well.
The dialogue and the cinematography, both as narrative forms, complement each other and interweave to tell the five different accounts in the film. Clearly, as the accounts are conflicting versions of the same story, the dialogue is unreliable and subjective. But, because the imagery is coordinated through the perspective of the first-person, there are richer emotions projected in the film.
Call#: Van Pelt Library PN1995 .J36 1987
Jarvie's chapter Rashomon: Is Truth Relative? discusses the film from a philosophical standpoint and examines what he calls the "Rashomon problem" as proposed by the film in the 1950's - simply, which person's storyline described in the film is true? Or is it even that none of them true as they are all mutually exclusive? Kurosawa does not imply that the samurai did not exist, or that the wife did not lose her husband. Instead, the construction of events, based on single-person perception tells "truths" based on their individual points-of-view.
In Rashomon, the audience is deliberately given too much information. They cannot coherently piece together the contradictory details and create a cogent picture of what happened. Jarvie argues that the film is more than only the truth relative to a point of view; it is also about each reality that the subjective truths attempt to describe and how those truths are interpreted through the character's perception of events.
Kurosawa uses several film techniques to show different points-of-view in Rashomon. He knows that the audience is able to transition across cuts to deduce what is going on; techniques such as eyeline matching, seamless sound, and complementary point-of-view shots, enable the audience is able to fill in the gaps between cuts. But Jarvie argues that Kurosawa goes beyond these simple editing tricks by showing the audience that in one setting, events are presented in a manner in which the mind cannot reconstruct. Hence, transitioning is made difficult, and the audience's sense of reality is thwarted. This effect is intentional and induces the audience to think about relativity in truth.
In addition, Kurosawa plays with point-of-view through the film's cinematography. Although each story is told from a first-person perspective, the cuts in the scene and the shifting of the camera do not make it clear who is speaking. The eye-witness is not in a fixed position, as to be assumed in first-person, and the point of view is shifted from one eye-witness to several. This freedom in filming that Kurosawa incorporates makes Rashomon even more of a challenge to the audience to view the chain of events as truth, which the audience may never solve.
Call#: Van Pelt Library PL801.K8 A2 2006
The film Rashomon was based on the combination of two short stories written by Ryunosuke Akutagawa: Rashomon (1915) and In a Bamboo Grove (1921). Rashomon tells the story a slave waiting beneath the ruins of the city gate, anxious of what strong rain will bring him after it stops. The slave had been recently discharged by his master and was struggling for survival. The story provides a poignant account of the devastation sweeping the city.
In a Bamboo Grove tells the story of a murdered samurai and of his wife's rape from several points of view. The accounts provided by the characters are conflicting and the story provides no resolution to the crime. The reader can only hypothesize as to what really happened in the grove.
Kurosawa uses the short story Rashomon for one of the settings in his film. He omits the characters, and focuses instead on Akutagawa's vivid descriptions of the city in decline. In a Bamboo Grove, on the other hand, provides the plot for Rashomon. The film is an almost exact adaptation of the story to the screen, except that Kurosawa hints at meaning behind the conflicting accounts by tying in elements of the short story Rashomon. The city gate ruins are where the woodcutter and the priest retell the curious events of that day, which contribute to the overall mood of the film. The setting is a devastating image of the city, and similarly, the manner in which the characters acted is found to be depressing. The priest brings together this metaphor: the strong rains and dark skies represent his loss of faith in man. Also, the ending and the change in the setting provide some symbolic explanation about the characters as well. As the priest's faith in man is restored, the sun appears and the skies clear up.
The synthesis of the two short stories allows Kurosawa to provide a unique interpretation of the narrative in In a Bamboo Grove.
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.
Call#: Van Pelt Library PN1995 .P6173 1985
Bordwell differentiates the narrative between the classical and modernist styles of writing and cinema in his chapter Objectivity, Subjectivity, Authority. In classical cinema, reality is coherent and consistent with individual identity. On the other hand, modernist cinema considers the mind's perceptions and reality as well, with individuals treating it as if it were "objective like the world before us." Hence, variations in character psychology are put on the spotlight. Also, modern cinema is characterized by what Bordwell calls a "boundary situation," where the turn of events makes the character aware of significant human issues. Through a flash of insight, the character realizes the meaning of human existence. According to Bordwell, this boundary situation is often present in modernist films and which enables the film to explain the mental states and emotions of the characters. Lastly, he also suggests that because modernist cinema holds truth from a relative view point, modernist narration focuses the attention of the audience on others aspects construction of the film, and moreover, calls for a higher level of interpretation.
Through his differentiation between classical and modernist cinema, in light of narrative style, Bordwell classifies Rashomon as a modernist film. He doesn't delve into Rashomon in particular, but he is right on point in describing the film style that Kurosawa employed. First of all, the film unravels from subjective points-of-view, four in particular with one of them repeated at the end. Rashomon does not reveal which storyline is true, but it is certainly possible that the characters think of their versions as objective. Secondly, as the story concludes, the audience sees the woodcutter in a boundary situation: the woodcutter realizes how much mankind can be self-centered and egoistic. In coming to this realization, he knows that it applies to himself as well: in feigning innocence, he does not tell the complete truth to the high court. This spurs him to reverse compensate and carry out a benevolent act by adopting an abandoned child. These events call for interpretation from the audience, and it is through this analysis that one is able to understand the character of the woodcutter in the film.
Call#: Van Pelt Library--4 East--Temporary Location Annenberg PN1998.3.K87 G66 1994
In his book, Goodwin carefully examines each of the five points-of-view presented in Rashomon. He suggests that the overarching motivation of the conflicting accounts reflects each character's "egoism," each tells their story in a manner that is most favorable to themselves. In particular, the woodcutter emphasizes his non-involvement in the crime, even though it is later implied that he is guilty of stealing the woman's dagger. The bandit projects an image of heroism and romanticism, and that "grand passion" was the motive for his actions. The wife's story emphasizes herself as the victim in the situation, with the bandit taking advantage of her and her samurai husband ultimately betraying her. Similar to the wife, the samurai perceives himself as the victim in the situation, reflected in his suicide as a desperate act of passion. Finally, the story goes back to the woodcutter who is led to re-tell his version of the events. This time, he discredits the other characters to maintain his own innocence and credibility.
Through Goodwin's picking through the details of Rashomon, the truth in the first-person narrative is examined. One could deduce that all of the characters in the film are lying. But, it is also reasonable to hypothesize that the intensity of the situation the characters were in could have forced a change in their perception of the situation. From the way the Kurosawa directs the film, each account is made ambiguous because each character is trying to project a positive image for his/herself, either deliberately or accidentally. The film, as a whole, then brings to mind questions beyond finding the crime's solution and the explicit credibility of the characters. The film instead raises higher-order questions examining the motives in which the events are told. Thus, Rashomon is not only to be looked at for the veracity in first-person narratives, but also for the driving forces influencing the characters behind those narratives.
Call#: Van Pelt Library PN1994 .S8176 2002
In this essay, Van Es discusses the important influence of societal roles in traditional Japanese society and compares them to the way the stories in Rashomon unfold. He suggests that the characters are not able to tell the truth under certain circumstances, because the social roles predetermined in the feudal Japanese society forbid them to do so. Marriage was a highly socially-significant institution during the Heian era, where Rashomon is set. Hence, the characters' mindset is impacted by powerful, external forces. The social aspect of an individual is a necessary part of the personal aspect: the two are almost inseparable. In effect, the characters present their stories in a way that is fitting for the role strongly demanded of them. Van Es suggests that this drives each of them to divulge a different version of the story.
Rashomon, in part, deals with marriage customs and faithfulness between partners. In examining Japanese marriage customs during this period, one can see how valid relativity of truth is as a proposed explanation for the differences in the characters' point-of-view. How strongly the Japanese society demands certain social roles of its inhabitants influence how personal perception of events changes in trying to conform to these roles. In particular, it was absolutely unthinkable for the samurai to have been humiliated in his perspective, which then led to commit suicide. Also, it was unimaginable for the wife to have had two sexual partners. So much so that she believed that she must kill one of them. Hence, she is led to killing her own husband.
Stressing the importance of social roles in the Japanese society makes one see how it can cause emotional distress so strong as to skew each of the perceptions of the characters in Rashomon. It is reasonable to attribute the disparities in point-of-view to the relativity of truth. Effectively, truth is relative because it is seen within the framework of what society demands. The characters' social roles impacted them so greatly that their subjective points of view were drastically altered.
Call#: Van Pelt Library--4 East--Temporary Location Annenberg PN1998.3.K87 R5 1996
Similar to other sources, Richie emphasizes the relativity of truth in Rashomon. But, after a comprehensive analysis of the different versions of the story that are told, Richie comes to a conclusion slightly different from other analyses: "No one - priest, woodcutter, husband, bandit, medium - lied. They all told the truth." In this he says that Kurosawa doesn't question what truth is in the film, he questions reality.
In other words, what can define reality considering that everything is based on the subjective truth perceived by humans? To an individual who is emotionally distraught, reality changes and the line between illusion and reality is blurred.
Not only that, but Richie argues that one of the main points of Rashomon is that sometimes, humans are unable to distinguish real from unreal. It's not that they don't want to, but extenuating circumstances make them incapable of doing so. In the case of the wife, she is traumatized and disconcerted after the bandit takes advantage of her and after she is disowned by her own husband, she is led to believe that she killed her husband. To her, this is the truth, although to the audience it is just a perception of reality. Consequently, Richie attributes this condition to the natural weakness of humans; that they must unconsciously deceive themselves of the truth.
Richie's argument is an extreme one - it relies too much on the weakness of humans as being unable to judge reality. Perhaps he doesn't not want to admit that humans can be deceitful, which could lead the characters to portray the events differently as well. With his argument, reality is an illusion; he avoids the possibility that humans can consciously distort reality (lie) for self-preservation.
As part of an emerging literature between law and film, Kamir talks about the influence of legal films on the understanding of law, society and culture. Apart from portraying legal situations, he argues that films can unconsciously evoke the audience to engage in its own judging process. Then, films play an active role in using its plot, characters and imagery to create a general representation of legal and social issues. Kamir points out that the audience comprises society's "jurors, judges and reasonable people," and that legal films have real-world impact.
Kamir describes Rashomon as one the classic and most powerful courtroom films ever made. The manner in which the story unfolds is an influential and complex insight not only on human condition but on the nature of legal processes in a socio-cultural context as well. It alerts the audience to the possibility that truth is completely subjective, and legal processes evaluate subjective rather than objective truths against each other. He refers to the film as a participant in society's perception of legal proceedings, and to some extent, in society's self-formation.
That Rashomon may have an impact more than just on the cinema world is an interesting idea to explore. First of all, it speaks of the film's powerful delivery and effectiveness. Second, because it deals with issues that are extremely relevant to society, it sparks thought that is not limited to the theoretical or philosophical aspects of human condition. Instead, its impact extends to the practical and socially significant aspects as well. The seemingly simple story of the death of a samurai, made complex by the different versions it is told by goes far beyond the confines of the film's single setting to real institutions such as the courtroom.