Movie Masterworks

“You know, a bad doctor can kill you. I won’t kill you, but I might break a couple of arms or legs.”

Synopsis: A testament to the goodness of humankind, Akira Kurosawa’s ‘Red Beard’ chronicles the tumultuous relationship between an arrogant young doctor and a compassionate clinic director. Toshiro Mifune, in his last role for Kurosawa, gives a powerhouse performance as the dignified yet empathic director who guides his pupil to maturity, teaching the embittered intern to appreciate the lives of his destitute patients. Perfectly capturing the look and feel of 19th-century Japan, Kurosawa weaves a fascinating tapestry of time, place, and emotion.

Critique: There are few films that reach as deeply as this one into the realms of the human condition, including despair and caring. At one level, the film is about the nature of medical care, but, in the nineteenth century, medical care was not materially different than the broader term, “caring.” Medicine had few scientifically validated treatments to offer and virtually no capacity to cure ailments. Red Beard knows that his business is as much about giving hope and fighting poverty as it is about disease: “Medical science doesn’t know everything. We know the symptoms and how things go. We can only fight poverty and ignorance, and cover up what we don’t know. If it weren’t for poverty, half of these people wouldn’t be sick.” Fields like psychology and social services didn’t exist, at the time, so medicine encompassed most of what is now divided among many different so-called “helping professions.” Medicine has changed both for better and for worse. On the positive side, doctors now have a much broader arsenal of efficacious interventions for many kinds of disease. On the downside, many physicians have lost the holistic orientation and “bedside manner” that Red Beard embodies and which Yasumoto is beginning to appreciate. Beyond that, the film’s other specific themes are those listed above as the seven lessons learned by Yasumoto. The one about the value of life residing in loving and caring for others is perhaps most central.

The script of Red Beard provides both its greatest strengths and its only significant weaknesses. The general contours of the story were based on a novel by Shugoro Yamamoto, called Red Beard. Shugoro’s writings had also provided the main plot elements for Sanjuro. Kurosawa wrote the screenplay for Red Beard himself, incorporating additional elements from Dostoevsky’s The Insulted and the Injured, as well as some of his own experiences. The story takes place mainly at the Koishikawa Public Clinic in nineteenth century Japan, near the city of Nagasaki. Medicine in Japan was undergoing major changes due to exposure of Japanese physicians to Western medical practices at the Dutch medical school in Nagasaki. The Japanese referred to Dutch physicians as “Red Beards” and their medical practices as “Red Medicine.” Hence the film’s title, “Red Beard.”

The film’s script treats its subject matter with admirable realism. A rich variety of primary and secondary characters are introduced and several undergo character development over the course of the film. Instead of basing the evolution of the main character on one climactic revelatory moment (as all too many films do), Kurosawa allows the deepening of personality and understanding to accumulate gradually as a natural result of numerous experiences (which is how personal growth usually occurs in real life). There’s a profound honesty and simplicity to the script that is downright refreshing. The script is highly literate and provides an excellent balance between humor, drama, characterization, and action.

The film’s major weakness is that the script is somewhat overly episodic. This gives Red Beard something of the feel of a mini-series or soap opera. Kurosawa strays frequently from the main story in extended tangential subplots. The gradual education of the young doctor Noboru Yasumoto provides the only integrating motif. It’s a bit like four or so episodes of Dr. Kildare strung together.

This film is not especially typical of Kurosawa’s output due to the extent of emphasis on narrative. Kurosawa was known, both early and late in his career, for spectacular visuals and highly developed camerawork. There’s nothing that disappoints about the cinematography for this film. It just doesn’t stand out as it does in either The Seven Samurai or Ran. It’s kept subordinate to the story. For many of the scenes in Red Beard, Kurosawa uses telephoto lenses to flatten the visual field and allow the camera to remain in focus as it moves. There’s an assortment of interesting perspective shots, looking down corridors, for example, and a magnificent tracking shot, near the end, by which the camera descends into a well before turning to peer back up at a group of characters shouting into the pit. If the individual images draw less attention than is typical of Kurosawa’s work, they nevertheless exhibit the same masterful composition and richness of chiaroscuro. It’s mainly only the kinetic element and the panoramic landscapes that are less in evidence in Red Beard compared to, say, Ran.

The costumes and sets were meticulously designed with period authenticity firmly in mind. Details of medical practice were verified as consistent with nineteenth century medicine. The soundtrack is mostly unobtrusive, though occasionally resorting to those heavy-handed dramatic sounds designed to tell viewers what they are supposed to be feeling. The music sometimes pauses for extended periods of time to allow natural sounds to permeate the atmosphere.

Both of the lead men provide strong performances. Yuzo Kayama gives us a highly sympathetic character as the central protagonist. It is through his eyes that we see the events unfold. Kayama had earlier appeared in Chushingura (1962) and was something of a matinee idol in his day. Mifune’s performance is restrained and authoritative. He’s magnificent, of course, in the one fight scene, but just as powerful, in other ways, as the compassionate healer and mentor.

This is a high quality film, with a touching story and profoundly humanistic themes. The performances are excellent, the cinematography is superb, and the character development outstanding. You shouldn’t let my small number of quibbles with the film (such as length and an overly episodic script) dissuade you from watching it.

-Metalluk

My thoughts: I agree with Metalluk’s conclusion: “I especially recommend this film for anyone anticipating a career in medicine, psychology, social services, or other helping professions. It’s a reminder that we all need to keep our priorities straight and recognize that status and success are less important than making some kind of tangible difference in the lives of our fellow humans.”