Anderson, Joseph L, and Donald Richie. "The Talkies, Interior: 1931-1939 (cont.)." The Japanese Film: Art and Industry. 1959.
     Expanded ed. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1982. 90-125

Anderson and Richie divide their book into two parts: the "background", which focuses on both the artistic and industrial development of Japanese film over time, and the "foreground", which examines the films themselves. In the chapter cited, the authors examine how the advent of sound resulted in the commercial expansion of Japanese film as well as major innovations in film technique and changes in Japanese film content. Much of this chapter focuses on the evolution of shomin-geki during the 1930s. Shomin-geki was a new genre, emphasizing the importance of realism and focusing on the working class. Anderson and Richie note that few films challenge the changes taking place in Japan during this time (specifically, the call for a return to feudal values, particularly those of war and conquest), Sisters of the Gion is one of the few that challenges the path taken by Japan's leaders. They point out the strong tension between tradition (represented by Umekichi) and modernity (represented by Omocha) that persists throughout the film yet point out that the ending of the film still leaves question as to the best path for both girls. While Umekichi is too encumbered by her aquiescence to tradition, Omocha's modernity does not allow her to triumph.

In essence, Richie and Anderson extend the clash between values to the political stage. They ascribe an impartiality to the film, claiming that Mizoguchi's realism forces the spectator to make a choice between values. Following their analysis, we would expect the film to maintain an unbiased view of the sisters' situation, offering a challenge to the socioeconomic conditions surrounding the film while not offering a solution. Yet the film does take a clear viewpoint. While the ending leaves both sisters condemned, it is only Umekichi who has truly lost the ability to pursue her goals. While Omocha may be in the hospital due to violating Kimura's expectations (which are defined by his traditional view of the role of a Japanese geisha), she still has the potential to recover from this temporary obstacle and return to the wealthy Kudo. On the political level, Omocha's accident would represent the temporary delay caused by the reimposition of traditional values. Yet if Japan recovers quickly from this, it would still be able to be successful internationally.

Anderson and Richie separate the book into two parts; the first focusing on the “background” of Japanese Film, such as the development of editing techniques, camera angles and techniques, and sound.  The latter part focuses on the “foreground,” which is made up of the directors, techniques and actors that gave Japanese Cinema its international (and national) identity.  The book first mentions Ikiru, which it calls Living  after its English translation, in the chapter on the development of atmosphere in Japanese cinema from 1949-1954 (Chapter 10) .  The authors give a brief synopsis of the film and mentions that “the Quarterly of Film, Radio, and Television […] called [Ikiru] “one of the greatest films of our time.””   Ikiru is described as an example of Kurosawa’s humanist cinema,  which is encapsulated by its mood and atmosphere.  The authors actually do criticize the film, which the other authors I read did not do, saying, “The film’s fault is perhaps that Kurosawa’s genius flows unchecked and that sometimes he carries things too far.”   This quote underlines the strategy taken by Anderson and Richie in their analysis of Kurosawa’s films (as well as the films of other Japanese directors).  Instead of delving deeply into the meaning of various shots and sequences in films, the films are analyzed more in terms of the authors’ views.  Films are listed in relation to the given topic of the chapter, but not much space is given to actually explaining, for example, what in the film creates the atmosphere.  A few interesting facts about Ikiru, learned from the book, is that Watanabe was Takashi Shimura’s only lead role in a Kurosawa film  and that the film was the first film that Kurosawa edited solely by himself.
While the book doesn’t have as much relevant information to Ikiru as other books I read, it does present some new information concerning the film in its own right, not on its aesthetic principles or themes.  The book is able to ground the film in relation to other Japanese films of its time, which no other book does, which is valuable in a complete understanding of the film beyond its importance as an Akira Kurosawa film.