Akira Kurosawa, “I Live in Fear” (1955)
I must admit to not being very impressed with this film: it seems like an over-long and overwrought soap opera with hammy performances and a rather cheap look. At the very least the tag team of director Kurosawa and star actor Toshiro Mifune prove they can do more than pop out one hero-samurai film after another. Though the film may be rather dated in some respects, it is most noteworthy for its social commentary on the institution of family in Japanese society and as a snapshot of Japanese society and public attitudes in the aftermath of World War II and the atomic bomb hits on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945.
Mifune plays ageing industrialist Kiichi Nakajima who is terrified that Japan will soon be targeted for nuclear attack (again) to the extent that he is determined to move his entire extended family, including two mistresses and their children, and another child by a third mistress who is no longer alive, to Brazil where he is trying to buy a farm in São Paulo state. Not surprisingly his children are all upset for various reasons at having to be moved and they are convinced that Dad has gone raving mad. As a result everyone is at loggerheads with one another and the whole affair is referred to third-party mediation. Dentist Dr Harada (Takashi Shimura) tries to listen to and understand all sides’ points of view, but he cannot stop Nakajima from destroying his business or the adult children from dumping him in a mental asylum.
Kurosawa’s film deftly exposes the adult children’s greed and selfishness in wanting to stay in Japan and bickering over their father’s fortune. They are exposed as lazy parasites who think only of themselves and never give a fig about what may happen in the future. Nakajima as played by Mifune is an intense, almost monomaniacal figure: one can appreciate how he must have single-mindedly built up his business with sheer force of will and hard work, and how he drives his workers like a slave-master. Obviously accustomed to being obeyed without question, he is at a loss at how to deal with his children’s rebellion.
The family conflict is a microcosm of the tensions existing in 1950s Japan between an older generation who believed in hard work and absolute obedience to the Emperor and the political elite, and a younger generation that’s politically cynical and more interested in living for today rather than working towards a better future. Into this cauldron Kurosawa throws in a few stereotypes: the compassionate mediator; the young mistress with Nakajima’s latest child, a small baby; and a young teenage boy, another illegitimate offspring, who is loyal to Nakajima. Funny how for all his paranoia about what will happen to Japan, Nakajima still keeps fathering more children.
The whole action takes place in a society where the vast majority of people appear not to care what might or might not happen and who carry on with their lives as if living in an eternal present. Whether they don’t care or are in denial of the future and suppressing their fears is not known; only Nakajima has mentally come out of Plato’s cave and seen the light, and this revelation threatens to drive him insane. Indeed, he does go mad when someone points out that in the event of a nuclear attack, Brazil would not be spared the after-effects and this gives Nakajima’s children the opportunity to appeal to the court which gives them the permit they need to have him admitted to the asylum.
For all its shortcomings, the film is worth watching as a portrayal of a society in denial about a future catastrophe it is helpless to prevent and as an examination of how individuals aware of such a danger might live their lives. Some, like Nakajima, will try to flee and persuade others to come with them, at risk to their sanity and health; others perhaps might try to awaken society and work towards preparing to confront the looming disaster and minimise the potential damage.
The film might have worked better (if more stereotypically) if Shimura’s character Dr Harada had been the main character and the family dispute presented with the two sides appearing to be evenly balanced; the children’s prejudices and selfish motivations could have been exposed more gradually, and the father’s rationality coming as the climax. Dr Harada would have been the individual forced to make a decision as to whether to remain in denial (and stay in Plato’s cave) or to see the light and deal with the consequences of doing so.