2001 Zvika Serper - Kurosawa's Dreams a Cinematic Reflection of a Traditional Japanese Dream

Kurosawa's Dreams: A Cinematic Reflection of a Traditional JapaneseContext

Zvika Serper

Cinema Journal, 40, Number 4, Summer 2001, pp. 81-103 (Article)

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Cinema Journal 40, No. 4, Summer 2001 81

Kurosawa’s Dreams: A Cinematic Reflectionof a Traditional Japanese Contextby Zvika Serper

The structure, content, means of expression, philosophical thought, and images inKurosawa’s Dreams (1990) offer an unconscious reflection of the traditional aris-tocratic no– theater in particular, as well as of other Japanese folkloristic and aes-thetic sources.

As a Japanese I really have to concentrate on what the Japanese are thinking aboutand interested in, and to make movies about it.1

—Kurosawa Akira, press conference on Dreams, Cannes Film Festival, 1990.2

Kurosawa’s Yume (Dreams, 1990) is a unique and very Japanese film. The filmconsists of eight episodes, embodying various dreams Kurosawa has had since child-hood. In each episode, the “I,” who is Kurosawa, encounters a character or phe-nomenon. Because the narrative elements and dialogue are very limited andundeveloped, they have inevitably led several critics and scholars, who comparethis film to Kurosawa’s other more narrative works, to consider Dreams tiresome,undramatic, and tendentious. For example, Audie Bock has commented: “InDreams, Kurosawa gives up the drama for the sake of the message. The structureitself, eight unconnected episodes, militates against any dramatic impact. The ab-sence of drama makes the message that much harder to endure.”3 Stephen Princehad a similar reaction:

Dreams is, in every sense, a work from the twilight of Kurosawa’s career. . . . It is not aparticularly distinguished film by comparison with the major works that have precededit. . . . The pictorialism of the static frame and overt theatricality of song and dance havereplaced the earlier montage style, and a valorization of inwardness and the imaginationhas overwhelmed a sophisticated aesthetic engagement with a social world.4

Terrence Rafferty briefly analyzes the universal aesthetic of the first four epi-sodes, which he finds impressive. If the film had ended after the fourth episode,Rafferty says, it might have been a masterpiece, but the last four episodes aretedious and overblown.5

What is required is an interpretation that addresses the specific structure ofthe film, rather than attempting to fit it into something that it clearly is not. AsDonald Richie notes in the opening of his article on viewing Japanese cinema:

Viewing a film means interpreting it, seeing beyond the story and its assumptions to theZvika Serper is a senior lecturer in Japanese theater and cinema in the Department of The-ater Arts and the Department of East Asian Studies at Tel Aviv University.

82 Cinema Journal 40, No. 4, Summer 2001

director and his assumptions and to the culture behind both film and director and theassumption that it holds.

When a culture is markedly different from our own, we can and often do misinter-pret the film. Our viewing is partial or incorrect because we are not aware of commonmeaning given what we are seeing.6

To appreciate Dreams fully, what does the spectator need to know about Japanesecultural, artistic, and societal practices? As we shall see, the various issues Kurosawatreats in this film, the way it is constructed, and its aesthetic elements all havedeeply loaded meanings in Japanese culture, giving Dreams levels of meaning thatWestern viewers are likely to miss.

Structure and Meaning. Two critics provide us with important clues to compre-hending the structure and meaning of the film. Sato– Tadao divides the film intotwo parts, which he subtitles “Animist Paradise and Afterwards”:

In the first three episodes, I encounters some elements of animism: foxes that serveas the assistants of kami (a god or goddess), live dolls and spirits of peach trees, and aSnow Woman who is the incarnation of snow. According to animism, the universeand all things have spirits, . . . and nature is sacred and worshipped. But ghosts andspirits of ancestors too are part of nature and of animism, and therefore it is notsurprising that in the fourth episode the ghost of a dead person appears in the dream.. . . Thus, the first half of the film presents four variations of the spiritual rapportbetween humans and the natural world. At the beginning, this rapport can be seen asa paradise, but sometimes nature’s reaction to human beings can be different fromthe gentleness of a mother.7

According to Sato– , the fifth episode, “Crows,” serves as a transition between thetwo parts. I enters Van Gogh’s paintings, where he encounters Van Gogh himself.Sato– perceives Kurosawa as expressing here his lament and discomfort that adultsare incapable of entering the animist world. The second half of the film constitutesa clear protest against the destruction of nature: the meltdown of Mt. Fuji followsthe explosion of a nuclear power plant, a meeting occurs with a human being whobecame a demon after the explosion, and a meeting takes place with an old manwho talks about the destruction of nature and the possible harmonious coexist-ence of humans and nature. Although Sato– ’s analysis of the first half of the film isan important one, several questions remain unanswered, such as the significanceof presenting these animistic elements in the film and the artistic connection be-tween animism and the way in which these episodes are constructed. Further-more, there is another, more conceptual division in the film.

Nishimura Yu–ichiro– finds several crucial elements in Dreams that are character-istic of Kurosawa’s work in general: “In Kurosawa’s films, factors are formed in acontradictory way with one extremity against the other; therefore, the eight episodescomprise a major division into yin and yang (in and yo – in Japanese8) images.”9

Nishimura categorizes the first (“Sunshine through the Rain”), second (“The PeachOrchard”), fifth (“Crows”), and eighth (“Village of the Watermills”) episodes as con-sisting of yang images, in which the brightening sun creates a romantic and yearning


atmosphere. In contrast, the third (“The Blizzard”), fourth (“The Tunnel”), sixth(“Red Fuji”), and seventh (“The Weeping Demon”) episodes are bad dreams thatfocus on yin images of gloomy darkness, emanating from the bottom of the soul andembodying anxiety and negativity. These contrasting episodes create harmony andbalance in the film. Such categorization is crucial to understanding the interpretivestructure created by the contrasts.

Nishimura notes that Kurosawa was interested in the expression of dreams,illusions, and deep-rooted delusions of the human consciousness, which beganwith the moment he gave up making black-and-white films and started shooting incolor. In Kagemusha (1980) and Ran (1985), he borrowed from the traditional no–

theater style in order to introduce elements of dreams and mystery. For Dreams,he borrowed the unique form of “dream” itself in order to confront the turbulentworld of the subconscious and metaphysical.10 While Nishimura does not see aconnection between Dreams and no– theater (which was also an important aes-thetic source for Kurosawa’s two earlier films, as Nishimura himself acknowledges),there is a definite connection with the theatrical form no–, whose most importantdramatic framework is the dream.

Kurosawa has referred to his great admiration for no– and its influence onseveral of his films. In interviews, he has dealt with the interpolation of theaesthetics and techniques of no– in Kumonosujo– (Throne of Blood, or The Castleof the Spider’s Web, 1957).11 After the release of Ran, several interviews withthe director and others involved in making the film made reference to the appli-cation of the aesthetics and techniques of no– to various elements in the film: thecharacters, style of acting, movement, dancing, singing, and costumes.12 AlthoughKurosawa has never referred to any borrowing from no– in Dreams, he has in-deed interpolated the essence and main patterns of no–, not by directly borrow-ing no– elements as he did in earlier films but in freer and perhaps unconsciousways. The result is a unique film through which he embodies his own statementthat any adopted element from no– or kabuki (traditional popular theater) mustbecome pure cinema.13

The aristocratic lyrical theater of no– was established in the fourteenth andfifteenth centuries and drew for material from many sources. Its form originatedin rituals and folk dances. It is essentially a drama of soliloquy without dramaticconflict. In most of the plays, a waki (a “side” or deuteragonist), usually a trav-eler, visits a famous place where he encounters a local inhabitant, the shite (the“doer” or protagonist), and asks to be told the story associated with the place. Atthe end of the story, the inhabitant declares that he is the incarnation of the heroof the tale, after which he disappears. After a short interlude, he appears again asthe hero in his past form and recounts his experience through songs and dances.Usually, only the main player wears a mask. Accompanying the players, who areall male, are a chorus of eight to ten, a flutist, and drummers. The chorus plays anarrative role, or it may even chant the lines of the main character. The rhythmof the drums and the tension suggested by the flute comprise important ele-ments of the performance. The play is acted with few props, on a raised, reso-nant, and empty stage.


In Dreams, I’s character is revealed through the waki, who in each dreamencounters a different shite performing his own story. The most important func-tion of the waki, as the representative of the audience, is to create a reason for themain character to appear and perform and to evoke his thoughts and feelings; thewaki does not propel the action forward. His acting, therefore, is kept to a mini-mum. With the exception of the first two episodes (in which two children play I asa small child and a young boy), Terao Akira (who played the elder son in Ran) playsI. He has commented on his acting in Dreams: “When I talked with the director,he told me that I should act naturally. As an actor, this was the most difficult orderfor me. I tried to be relaxed and to concentrate on playing the director KurosawaAkira in a natural way. I did not think about imitating him, and I did not receiveany specific instructions for certain points.”14 The character I is not intended toembody Kurosawa personally but to function as a medium or coordinator betweenthe spectators and the main characters.

An important structural and aesthetic principle in no– is jo-ha-kyu–. Jo means “be-ginning,” ha means “breaking,” and kyu– means “rapid.” Jo-ha-kyu–, which originatedfrom gagaku (ancient Imperial Court music and dances), indicates a gradually in-creasing tempo. In no–, it relates to the content and tempo of various components ofthe performance. It means the beginning, middle, and end of each play, as well as aprogram of several plays. It also means slow-medium-fast with regard to various ele-ments such as the rhythm of the play’s parts and of each segment of singing anddancing. We can apply this principle to the three main entities of the no– cycle—gods,demons, and mortals (alive or dead). The gods comprise jo; the spirits of dead peopleand live mortals comprise ha; and the demons comprise kyu–.

During the years of no– consolidation, the opening of the no– cycle came tocomprise the gods bestowing their blessing on the world, while at the end piouspeople or warriors subjugated the threatening demon-beasts. Between the divineblessing and the defeated threat in the opening and closing of the cycle, two phasesof existence are revealed: that of the ghosts (warrior males or romantic females),who seek consolation in order to calm their disturbed existence, and that of livemortals.15 This program offers the entire range of human experience. Its three-layer structure may also reflect the Chinese cosmological concept of the ThreePowers (san sai)—heaven, earth, and human (ten-chi-jin)—which have influencedJapanese culture. The appearance of the god signifies heaven; the mortals, live ordead, signify human; and the demons signify earth.

In Dreams, Kurosawa creates a unique manifestation of this principle, throughboth the main characters and the order of their appearance. A comparison be-tween the preliminary scenarios and the film is highly revealing regarding hisintentions concerning this point. The original eleven episodes in the first (un-published) provisional manuscript for the film16 were reduced to nine episodesin the final unpublished manuscript.17 Another episode was subsequently omit-ted from the film (as well as from the published scenario),18 creating a uniquestructure of eight episodes.

The etymological meaning of the ideogram of the number eight, hachi , isthe division of an object into two parts. According to O

–kura Toraaki, an important


kyo–gen19 artist and theoretician of the seventeenth century, these are not just partsbut symbols of yin and yang.20 Thus, the eight episodes in Dreams form four pairedepisodes with distinct messages and comprising dialectically related elements. Theopening episode, “Sunshine through the Rain,” was to have been the second epi-sode in the first (unpublished) provisional manuscript for the film,21 but it becamethe first in the nine episodes of the final unpublished manuscript.22 The closingepisode, “Village of the Watermills,” was originally planned for the middle of thefilm, but it was inserted as the sixth episode, between “The Tunnel” and “RedFuji,” in the final unpublished manuscript.23 Kurosawa changed the order of theseepisodes, both of which feature ceremonial processions, so as to comment on con-trasting themes and aesthetics, such as life/death, human/superhuman, and fic-tion/reality. These episodes form the jo and kyu– levels of the film.

The six episodes in between these ceremonies form the ha level, through whichKurosawa offers manifestations of the same three main entities that appear in no–—gods, mortals (alive or dead), and demons. These six episodes are molded into threesets of contrasting pairs. Kurosawa thereby not only includes the essence of thewhole human experience in the no– cycle, but he also adds dynamism and harmony.

As in each no– play, the jo-ha-kyu– structure is manifested in each of the epi-sodes of Dreams. This three-part structure usually comprises an initial verbal en-counter between I and the main character or other characters as the jo level. Theha level is the climactic performance of the main character, and the final kyu– levelis the departure of the main character and/or of I.

Various components in the paired episodes, such as vocal expressions, move-ments, musical genres, colors, and casting, are molded contradistinctively in eachpair. An analysis of these components supports Nishimura’s premise that Kurosawa’sfilms offer contrasting elements in which one element is set against another notonly by juxtaposing yin- and yang-type episodes but also by molding individualcomponents in each episode.

Superhuman Wedding against Human Funeral. The first and the last epi-sodes of Dreams feature two processions that symbolize the opening and closingof the life cycle: a wedding (usually leading to a new birth) and a funeral. Both areuniquely, albeit ambiguously, fashioned: a superhuman and threatening weddingagainst a human and optimistic funeral. The structure and essence of these con-trasting processions and their connection with the other episodes are associatedwith the dances of the most sacred piece in the Japanese performing arts—Okina(The Old Man). This is the most ancient work in the no– repertoire, a unique piecethat completely differs from any other no– play. At the same time, Okina featuresthe no– ’s most essential dichotomous concepts, such as human/superhuman, bless-ing/threatening, and fiction/reality. It also has religious characteristics, and all theperformers must go through rituals of purification before the performance. In theold days these rituals opened each session of a no– drama.24

The main element in the first episode of Dreams, “Sunshine through the Rain,”is a mysterious wedding procession of foxes in a forest on a rainy day, seen by I at theage of five, after his mother has warned him not to watch. His mother subsequently


gives him a dagger to commit suicide by slashing his stomach if the foxes do notforgive him. The meaning of the episode is obviously ambivalent. A wedding is usu-ally a happy event, leading to a birth and therefore symbolizing the start of a new life,but here I is not only threatened by this event but it may lead to the end of his life.

This narrative-oriented wedding is supported by similarly ambivalent expres-sions that emerge from the deep cultural dichotomy of the main character in thisepisode—kitsune, the Japanese fox—which has always played an important part inJapanese animal lore. His ambivalent nature has become a leitmotif, with manymanifestations in Japanese folk tales, literature, and theater. The mere mention ofthe word “fox” to a Japanese evokes many connotations, and its appearance immedi-ately stimulates the imagination. In the Japanese tradition, the fox is linked with bothfertility and death. He is the messenger of Inari, the beneficent god of rice, harvest,and fecundity. But he is also a wicked demon, who haunts and possesses people and,using his supernatural power, can transform himself into a human being.25

The ambivalent nature of the fox as both bestower of fertility and life and asthief of the same is rooted in Kurosawa’s consciousness. In his previous film, Ran,the presence of the fox served as a plot device to dramatize conflict among thecharacters.26 In the first episode of Dreams, however, the fox is the main subject,and his essence and form serve as a superhuman threat. The immediate ambiguityof the fox is made clear by the mother, who tells I about the Japanese belief, basedon folklore, that foxes wed when the sun is out on a rainy day—a dialectical com-bination of two natural elements.

In contrast to the opening episode, in the closing dream, “Village of theWatermills,” I attends a joyful and inspiring human funeral. At a lush farm withflowing water, after a meeting with a 103-year-old man, who is the main character,cheerful orchestral singing is heard from a distance, heralding the funeral of aninety-nine-year-old woman, the old man’s first love. The old man appears in thefuneral procession in his second role as the main character, accompanied by hiscompanions (tsure in the no– ). This part is far more essential to the film than thelong dialogue between I and the old man about the way of life of the rural folk andnature. That dialogue, which functions as the verbal first-part encounter, merelygives the funeral its particular meaning. Instead of the usual sad funeral, this pro-cession is joyful and inspiring, completing the life cycle in the film. In contrast tothe superhuman wedding procession, every kind of human being is present at thefuneral: children, adults, and the elderly, male and female. Together, the contrast-ing processions form a frame structure that gives the film its unique qualities.

The visual and aural elements that herald the entrances of the main charactersin these two episodes also reflect their dialectical relationship. These elements in“Sunshine through the Rain,” which are taken from no– and kabuki, reinforce thesupernatural nature of foxes. A cloud of smoke appearing from out of the rain andthe trees, from which the foxes appear (Fig. 1), is the same smoke through whichsuperhuman characters sometimes emerge in kabuki. The flute music, followed bypercussion instruments, and a solo flute, playing higher notes, which precede thefoxes’ appearance, is almost identical to the percussion and solo flute music preced-ing the appearance of the main character in no– , who is usually superhuman.


In both their looks and movement, the foxes in the wedding procession are acombination of fox and human being, and this visual element supports the connota-tion of the fox as a superhuman. They are dressed for the event like humans intraditional Japanese costumes, but their faces have a combination of human and foxfeatures, effected by a highly elaborate technique that implants hair on the per-formers’ faces.27 This combination of animal and human characteristics is very simi-lar to the combination in one of the most famous kyo– gen masks, that of Hakuzo–su,the main character in the play Tsurigitsune (Fox Trapping), in which a fox trans-forms itself into a human being (Fig. 2). In the second part of the play, the foxappears in its true form (Fig. 3). Comparisons of the two masks and of the mask forHakuzo–su and the foxes’ faces in Dreams reflect Kurosawa’s intention to suggestthat the foxes are transformed humans.

Young females shouting out popular kakegoe (nonverbal interjections of en-couragement) precede the funeral procession. After this joyful message, Kurosawaexposes us to a visual element—contrasting colors—representing the funeral be-fore we actually witness it. The old man, wearing blue clothes, enters a hut, comesout with a red outer garment over his blue clothes, picks a branch blooming withred flowers from a nearby bush, and then joins and leads the funeral. This changefrom blue, the most yin nature color, to red clothing and the picking of red flow-ers, which intensifies the sense of red, the most yang nature color, symbolizesblessing and life—a very unusual association in the context of a funeral. This is a

Figure 1. In the “Sunshine through the Rain” episode of Kurosawa’s Dreams (1990),foxes appear out of the smoke as superhuman characters. Courtesy Kurosawa Pro-duction, Inc.


manifestation of these farmers’ special attitude toward a funeral as a happy eventafter a person has harmoniously completed his life cycle.

Similar contrasting movements occur between the two processions and be-tween the dances in Okina. The performance of the wedding procession in the“Sunshine through the Rain” segment is similar to the combination of dances byOkina and Senzai that comprise the first half of Okina. In Dreams, this contrast isexpressed in the juxtaposed human and animal features of the foxes, whose basicsmooth movements, performed with stabilized pelvis, are similar to Okina’s sol-emn dance in no– , which features a repeated movement with sliding steps. Thefoxes’ jerky animal gestures, which occasionally interrupt their smooth movements,are addressed toward I, who is hiding behind a big tree. The animals’ gestures,associated with Senzai’s dance in its contained intensity, climax in several powerfulmovements and stamping.

The funeral in the “Village of the Watermills” is amazingly similar to the twodances by Sanbaso– (performed by a kyo–gen actor) in the second half of Okina. Thedancing and shouting crowd accompanying the deceased resembles the first wilddance (momi no dan) Sanbaso– performs, which involves jumps, strong stamping,and powerful interjections of traditional kakegoe shouts, similar to those made bythe no– drummers. The dance by the old man, who joins and leads the funeral

Figures 2 and 3. In the kyo–gen play Tsurigitsune (Fox Trapping), the mask Hakuzo–su(left) represents a fox that has transformed itself into a human being. Later, the foxappears in its true form (right). The similarity between the mask of Hakuzo–su andthe foxes’ faces in Dreams reflects Kurosawa’s intention to suggest that the foxes aretransformed humans. Courtesy Nomura Mansaku.


while playing kagura (sacred music and dance) bells in his right hand and holdingthe branch blooming with red flowers in his left hand, like a fan, resembles thesecond dance by Sanbaso– , the bells dance (suzu no dan), which Sanbaso– dancesafter he has donned a black mask. Indeed, he holds the kagura bells in his righthand and a fan in his left, and he dances more calmly and without shouting.

The movements in the two processions, both of which occur among trees, areperformed in contrasting fashion. Whereas the movements in the wedding pro-cession are basically horizontal, similar to no– dance movements, mai, the mostexpressive part of the funeral procession, consists of vertical jumps by the women.It more resembles odori (kabuki dances) and popular festival dances. These move-ments in opposite directions create a harmonic balance, reinforced by the con-trasting direction of the flowing water in both episodes. Thus, the horizontalmovement of the foxes in the wedding procession is balanced by the verticality ofthe falling rain, while the vertical leaps during the human funeral harmoniouslycombine with the horizontal flowing water of the river.

The aural components of the processions also contrast. Juxtaposed with thedelicate Japanese traditional music that accompanies the wedding procession,Kurosawa introduces lively foreign music for the funeral—the second piece ofCaucasian Sketches by Russian composer Ippolitov Ivanov (1859–1935). Further-more, in contrast to the silent marching of the foxes in the wedding procession,the dancing farmers produce rhythmical nonverbal vocal expressions (kakegoe),intermittently interjected by the voices of both females and males.

Gods as Purifiers and Polluters. Although gods (kami)28 in Japan usually ap-pear to be benevolent if they are properly worshipped, this is not always the case.Each god or goddess is endowed with tama, a force or will, which is generallythought to have both a “gentle” (nigimitama) and a “coarse” aspect (aramitama).If a god is not worshipped properly or is treated badly, it can invoke both personalcalamity and natural disasters. In Dreams, Kurosawa uses these dual characteris-tics of the gods to tell ancient cultural legends and to relate contemporary mes-sages. In the second episode, “The Peach Orchard,” the god is the traditionalpurifier, whereas in the sixth episode, “Red Fuji,” he is a contemporary polluter.

After the opening procession of the foxes, in which they are the gods’ messen-gers, I encounters an actual god in the second episode, “The Peach Orchard.” Inthis episode, Kurosawa combines two concretely associated elements, peach blos-soms and hina dolls, with their most sacred association as purifiers. March 3 is theday of hina matsuri (the Dolls’ Festival), one of very few occasions when littleJapanese girls have parties at which they and their girlfriends partake of sweetsand food offered to the dolls.29 The Dolls’ Festival is sometimes referred to as thePeach Festival (momo no sekku) because peach blossoms are used as decorationson this day. The peach is worshipped as a kami in Japan.30 The hina dolls of thecontemporary festival are thought to have originated in a Chinese purification riteto exorcise evils and impurities, and, according to a Chinese belief, the peachesare able to dispel evil spirits and demons.31 In combination, therefore, the hinadolls and peach trees function as symbols of divine purification.


In contrast to the traditional benevolent purification by the kami in the sec-ond episode, in the sixth episode, “Red Fuji,” the kami perform a modern act ofpollution. Mountains in Japan have been regarded as holy places since ancienttimes, because they are believed to be the dwelling places of ancestral spirits andgods. There are many deities called yama no kami—gods of the mountain—andmany festivals are still dedicated to these kami. Fujisan (Mt. Fuji) is the highestand most beloved mountain in Japan, and its permanently snow-capped summithas been the subject of innumerable poems, paintings, photographs, and films.The sight of the mountain has a major influence on the consciousness of the Japa-nese, and Fujisan is worshipped as a sacred place of various kami. The destructiveimage of Fujisan in “Red Fuji” contrasts with that of its original traditionally be-nevolent image, as well as with the images of purification of the hina dolls and thepeach trees in “The Peach Orchard.” As a reaction to a series of nuclear powerplant explosions, the angered Fujisan, with its ever-white summit, turns red andbegins a meltdown, in sharp contrast to the process of growing and blooming ofthe peach trees. The angered god of the mountain, who was badly treated, causesa natural disaster as a contemporary polluter.

“The Peach Orchard” is the most complicated episode in the film. The epi-sode is based on two entities, peach trees and hina dolls, whose personification aswell as metamorphosis from one entity to the other reinforce their purifying func-tion. Kurosawa starts this process by creating a concrete connection between thepeach trees and the dolls at the opening of the episode, when I as a child brings atray with dumplings to his elder sister and her girlfriends, who sit in front of shelvesof hina dolls. Before entering this room, I passes through an empty living roomwith a tokonoma (traditional large ornamental alcove), which contains a white por-celain jar filled with peach blossoms. After a shot of I opening a sliding door fromthe living room to enter the room with the dolls, we see another shot, taken fromthe room I is entering, so that it combines a view of I with the flowering peachbranch, before he approaches the dolls, which have been placed in a parallel loca-tion to that of the peach blossom in the previous room. This spatial parallelismbetween the dolls and the peach blossom, which does not appear in the final pub-lished scenario (in which I enters the dolls’ room directly),32 was created on theset, revealing the cultural connection Kurosawa used to convey his message aboutpurification.

After I (and we) encounter the two entities in their concrete form, he meetstheir personifications. A strange girl dressed in a pink outer garment, standingbeside and blending in with the pink flowering peach branch in the living room, isthe personification of the remaining little peach tree in the orchard. She leads Iinto a forest to a terraced mountain slope, where I is blocked by the personifica-tions of the spirits of the chopped-down peach trees, who appear in the form ofhina dolls, claiming that the dolls are actually transformations of the peach trees.

The two-part performance by the main entities in “The Peach Orchard,” firstin their current incarnation as the personification of the hina dolls and then as thekami of the peach tree, contrasts in sound and sight to the Fujisan and in move-ment to the crowds in “Red Fuji.” The personifications of the hina dolls dance and


play music (Fig. 4) derived from gagaku, the ancient Imperial Court music anddances that have been authentically preserved from the eighth century and thatare considered to be the most ancient performing art in the world. They also serveas important elements in the celebrations of shinto– , the original Japanese reli-gion.33 The music played by the characters and their dance before I are expres-sions of the gentle and benedictory side of the gods and responses to I’s love andempathy for them.

In the second part, the classical music of the gagaku changes into a com-pletely modern score and the peach trees appear in full bloom as they once werein the past. The music stops and the marvelous blooming trees disappear, indicat-ing that the dream of the mediator has ended. The bells of the strange girl who ledI to the orchard—and who was in fact the spirit of the one remaining little peachtree among the gnarled stumps there—open and close the frame of the dream,like the flute music in the no– . The explosions of the nuclear reactors around Fujisanand the crowd’s clatter provide a harsh contrast to the delightful bell music, gagaku,and modern orchestra.

In each of these episodes, I starts his encounter with the main entity in frontof a mountain. However, whereas he runs toward a terraced mountain slope in“The Peach Orchard,” he runs away from the mountain in “Red Fuji.” Similarly,the movements of the other characters contrast with one another. Thus, in “ThePeach Orchard,” the dolls’ personifications perform graceful dance movements,

Figure 4. In “The Peach Orchard” episode of Dreams, the personifications of thehina dolls dance and play music derived from gagaku, thought to be the mostancient performing art in the world. Courtesy Kurosawa Production, Inc.


whereas in “Red Fuji,” the terrified crowd flees toward the sea, carrying I alongwith them.

At the climax of each of the two episodes, I is enveloped by a contrastingcover. The climax of the dolls’ performance in “The Peach Orchard” occurs asbeautiful, purifying white peach blossoms rain down on the dancing dolls and on I,reflecting the positive traits of the kami. The climax of the pollution portion of“Red Fuji” occurs as poisonous radioactive gases first appear as white or colorlessfog then gradually turn into a red gas originating from the red-turned-white Fujisan.The red gas starts to cover I, who tries to fight off this contaminating vortex. Thegas eventually envelops him—an obvious negative manifestation of pollution.

Ghosts: Realistic and Fictional Incarnations. The middle of the film, thefourth episode (“The Tunnel”) and fifth episode (“Crows”), focuses on I’s encoun-ters with the spirits of dead people, who appear either as ghosts (in episode four)or as a live person (in episode five), reflecting the dichotomy of life and death. In“The Tunnel,” Kurosawa summons the spirits of ordinary dead people, manifestedas ghosts. In contrast, in “Crows,” Kurosawa enters a fictional world in order toencounter the spirit of a very famous dead man reincarnated as a live person. Theappearance of the disturbed dead spirits of young soldiers and of a famous artisticfigure (as well as of a beloved young woman foreshadowed by the appearance of afemale romantic ghost in the second episode, “The Peach Orchard”34), all of whomdied young and in horrible ways—in battle, by suicide, and of disease—enablesKurosawa to summon and set their uneasy spirits to rest.

In the fourth episode, “The Tunnel,” I the officer meets the restless ghostsof his troops who perished in World War II and asks them to rest in peace. Thedramatic structure and the artistic means employed greatly resemble the secondcategory of no– plays, in which the ghosts of the two great clans of restless war-riors appear. These clans, the Heike and the Genji, fought each other and diedon the battlefield in the twelfth century. Although Kurosawa did not serve in thearmy at all, in this episode he brilliantly combines a traditional structure with acontemporary message, that individuals are still traumatized by the knowledgethat so many young Japanese people of his age were sent blindly to their deaths.In this episode, I summons their dead spirits, asks their forgiveness, comfortsthem, and begs them to rest in peace.

“Crows” is even more complex. In this episode, Kurosawa leaves our worldand tours “the other world” in order to meet a famous dead character, appearing asa live person.35 Whereas I and the main characters in “The Tunnel” reflect theirtrue identities, in “Crows” the meaning of the main character, Van Gogh, is muchmore loaded. His character can be interpreted as a blend between Kurosawa (whohimself tried to commit suicide) and his dead brother, Heigo, who committed sui-cide at the age of twenty-seven. Kurosawa admired Van Gogh and mentioned himthree times in his autobiography: as one of the two painters he most admired dur-ing his childhood36; as one of three painters whose paintings changed the way thereal world looked to him after his brother’s suicide37; and as one of the three artistshe mentioned when he applied for work at the film company.38 Undoubtedly, this


episode may also reflect Kurosawa’s aspiration for perfection and his idea that cre-ation is a necessity. In addition, the director’s close, admired, and influential brother,Heigo, who was a narrator (benshi or katsuben) in silent movies and committedsuicide after talkies put an end to his artistic career, could have inspired the per-sonal parallelism Kurosawa saw in Van Gogh, who died very young, without fulfill-ing his artistic aspirations.

The audiovisual components accompanying I’s summoning of the ghosts in“The Tunnel” are similar to those in the no– . The machine-gun-like barking ofthe “mad dog” (as Kurosawa defines it in the scenario),39 which comes out of thedark entrance to the tunnel before and after the appearance of the ghosts, is asavage reflection of the flute music that opens and closes the performance ofthe main character in the no– . The sound of I’s echoing footsteps along the tun-nel prepares the audience for and evokes the appearance of the ghosts, much asthe waki do when they pass the bridge (hashigakari) between the dressing roomand the no– stage, while the drummers play and nonverbally shout (kakegoe) tothe main character, the ghost. Stamping is an even older feature of the kamithan the drums and shouts of the drummers in the no– . The space is also pre-pared to accept the ghost by a transition from light to darkness. It takes only afew minutes to cross the tunnel, but, although I enters it in total daylight, it iscompletely dark when he comes out.

In “Crows,” Kurosawa makes meaningful use of Van Gogh’s paintings, throughwhich he prepares for I’s meeting with this much-admired dead artist. I confrontsVan Gogh’s paintings in a museum, where he focuses on three paintings: a self-portrait of Van Gogh, Van Gogh’s last painting, Crows over the Wheatfield (1890),which depicts the place where the artist died and which serves as the climacticlocation of the dream, and, finally, the painting Drawbridge near Arles (1888),through whose frame I walks to enter the fictional world of the painter. Kurosawauses the main element of the last painting to structure the passage to the deadartist’s world: I climbs up to the three-dimensional bridge of the painting and crossesover it en route to his meeting with Vincent Van Gogh.

In contrast to the vertical tracking shot of I’s crossing of the mountain-en-closed tunnel deep into the frame, the camera pans from the left to the right of theframe as I horizontally crosses the overhead, open, bright, and colorful bridge.Then, in contrast to the linear stamping in the dark, closed tunnel, after crossingthe bridge, I runs easily in all directions, in a colorful and open painting-like envi-ronment. His running is accompanied by the music of Frédéric Chopin, not byrealistic sounds, as in the tunnel.

The appearances of the main characters in the two episodes also differ signifi-cantly. After summoning the ghosts in “The Tunnel,” the first ghost to appear is thatof Private Noguchi, one of I’s soldiers who was killed in the war and who refuses toaccept that he is dead. Kurosawa develops the personal aspect of their relationshipthrough I’s dialogue with Noguchi. I tries to convince him that he was truly killedand tells him about the last moments of his life, much as the deuteragonist in the no–

talks with the ghost of the warrior, enabling the ghost to depict the misery of defeatand the glory of death and to ask that his spirit be consoled. After Noguchi is con-


vinced to return to the world of the dead, he enters the tunnel and disappears, asthe ghost does at the end of the first part of the no– , on the hashigakari.

The first part of “Crows” is also essentially realistic and verbal. After I finallyruns into a “real” environment, he meets Van Gogh and holds a conversation withhim, through which Kurosawa reveals their similar ideas concerning the aesthetictensions between art or fiction or dream, and reality. Van Gogh talks about im-mersing himself within the reality that enables him to paint, but he says he tries tomold that reality according to his artistic design, for example, by cutting off his earsince he has been unable to paint it, just as Kurosawa paints real petals to fit themto his artistic vision. This two-directional aesthetic tension between fiction andreality characterizes the theme and the structure of this episode.

The second part of both episodes contrasts with the verbal expression of theirfirst parts. In the second part of “The Tunnel,” all the dead soldiers of the ThirdPlatoon march out of the tunnel and line up in front of I, their commander, but,unlike Private Noguchi, they remain silent. I asks their forgiveness for remainingalive and begs them to go back and rest in peace. Obeying his orders, they turn backto the tunnel and march in. The appearance of the entire platoon enables Kurosawato create expressive and performative elements, such as a marvelous musicalsoundtrack of their stamping out and into the tunnel, culminating in a requiem oftrumpets, while, on the visual level, the soldiers’ march appears as a dance.

The second part of “Crows” is also characterized by performative expression.Kurosawa molds it dialectically, passing from the most fictional expression to arealistic embodiment of the artist’s fictional painting. First, I runs through fic-tional scenery in the shape of several sketches and paintings by Van Gogh. I thenemerges in a field, which is Kurosawa’s revival of Van Gogh’s last painting Crowsover the Wheatfield. While Van Gogh disappears into the distance along the field’spath toward the horizon, a multitude of crows soar up, crying from the wheat field.Enormous preparation was required to create these realistic embodiments of VanGogh’s images. The disappearance (or death) of the admired painter culminates inthe flight and cries of the crows.

In these episodes, Kurosawa uses contrasting lighting on the main characters tointensify the contrast of dead/alive. Whereas in “Crows” Van Gogh and I are lit inthe same way as the live characters, in “The Tunnel” the lighting emphasizes thatthe encounter is between a live person and dead spirits. In addition to making upthe dead soldiers’ faces to look like skulls, against the natural face of I, an equivalentto the no– mask of the main character set against the bare face of the deuteragonist,I is lit by a red key light, giving his face and figure a live, warm yang image, incontrast to the dead, cold yin image of Noguchi and the other dead soldiers.Kurosawa’s continuity paintings (ekonte) are unusually elaborate, detailed, and fullof colors; his visual intention is clearly illustrated in his painting of the meetingbetween Noguchi and I, in which the background wall is sharply divided into bluebehind the ghost of Noguchi and red behind I.40 Similarly, in the painting of I’sencounter with the platoon’s dead soldiers, all the figures are colored green exceptfor I, who is orange.41 The red key light in the middle of the episode, which illumi-nates I and symbolizes life in the context of death, also illuminates the barking dog


at the beginning and the end of the episode, thereby reinforcing the expressivenessof the dog versus the passiveness of I. Changing the focus of the red key light fromthe dog to I and then back to the dog also highlights the representation of life anddeath in the middle of the episode with these colors.

Contrasting night and day light sources play important roles in these two epi-sodes. Night light is associated with the appearance of the soldier’s ghost and day-light with the live character of Van Gogh. In “The Tunnel,” two realistic smallnight lights draw the characters toward them, and one is referred to verbally. Iexits the tunnel in the darkness toward a tall night lantern in the center of theframe. After the ghost of Private Noguchi comes out of the tunnel, he looks intothe distance and sees a small light there, relates to it as his parents’ home, and asksto go there. In contrast, the transition point between the two-part encounter be-tween I and the ghost of Van Gogh centers on the source of daylight, the sun, andon the bipolar transition from a realistic sensing of the sun’s rays to its fictionaldepiction. At the end of the first meeting, the artist looks up at the sky and talksabout the sun, which compels him to paint, and we are made aware of the sunthrough its rays that bathe him and through I, who looks upward, then concealsand protects his face from the sun’s rays. Later, I runs inside a painting of a field,deep into the center of the frame, which depicts an enormous Van Gogh paintedsun (Fig. 5). The contrasting essence and size of these light sources reinforce theyin/yang images in the two episodes, while their dialectical molding contributes to

Figure 5. In the “Crows” episode of Dreams, “I” runs backward inside a paintingof a field, deep into the center of the frame, toward an enormous Van Gogh paintedsun. Courtesy Kurosawa Production, Inc.


the contrast between the realistic appearance of Private Noguchi set against thefictional appearance of Van Gogh.

The soundtracks for the final sequences of these two successive episodes con-sist of the same elements but in opposite orders: “The Tunnel” ends with a re-quiem of wind instruments followed by the sound of an animal, a dog’s barking,while “Crows” ends with the sounds of animals, crows’ cries, followed by a wind-instrument effect made by the horn of a locomotive.

The casting in these two episodes contributes to their realistic/fictional char-acteristics. The ghost of Noguchi is played by Zushi Yoshitaka, who played thetrolley boy in Kurosawa’s Dodesukaden (1970), and Japanese actors, speaking Japa-nese, play the spirits of the dead soldiers. In contrast, the washerwomen speakFrench with I, and Van Gogh, played by Martin Scorsese, speaks English withhim. The use of two foreign languages from remote places, together with the cast-ing of foreign actors, add to the realistic and fictional quality of these episodes.

Coping with Evil and Human Demons. In the third episode, “The Blizzard,”and the seventh episode, “The Weeping Demon,” I encounters contrasting demonicbeings. An encounter with a demonic threat is the final stage of the thematic struc-ture of no– theater, in which the deuteragonist, usually a priest or a warrior, confrontsdemons and drives them away. Zeami Motokiyo (1363–1443), the consolidator andmost important master in no– history, divides the no– demons into two contrastingtypes that are similar to the two demonic entities in Dreams. In “The Blizzard,” Iencounters and confronts the evil Snow Woman (yuki onna), who has disguised her-self as a beautiful woman, and he vanquishes her. According to Japanese folklore, theSnow Woman is an evil spirit who causes those who meet her on a snowy mountain tosink and be buried under the snow. Zeami classifies such a demon as a rikido–fu–—ademon with power of the body and mind.42 In contrast to his confrontation with theSnow Woman, in “The Weeping Demon,” I encounters human beings who havebecome demons and who can be classified according to Zeami as saido– fu–—beings inthe form of a demon with a human heart who does not have supernatural powers andwhose suffering reflects human wickedness.43

In each of these episodes, Kurosawa uses different elements to construct thetwo-part appearance of the main character. In “The Blizzard,” he concentrates onaudibly summoning the Snow Woman and on her transformation from a beautifuland lovely woman to a murderous character. The sounds produced by I and thethree other mountaineers, who are lost and trapped in a deadly snowstorm on amountainside, last for about five minutes, during which there is almost no dialogue.Functioning as traditional music in this context, the clanking and ringing of theclimbing equipment serve as drums, while the climbers’ marvelously expressivegasps offer a splendid parallel to the drummers’ kakegoe (nonverbal shouts) sum-moning the main character—in this case, a demon. Like a flute, the beautiful fe-male vocal solo, heard after the three climbers and I collapse into the snow, portendsthe appearance of the demon. The Snow Woman appears initially as a beautifulwoman sitting beside I, smiling, trying to draw him to his death by convincing himto sink into the “warm” snow.


In “The Weeping Demon,” in which I encounters a human demon, Kurosawadoes not have the superhuman character audibly summoned, but concentrates onI evoking the thoughts and feelings of the main character. I meets a being in hu-man form who tells him about his former life as a human who concentrated solelyon making money and of his current life as a single-horned demon who is a candi-date to be eaten by demons with two or three horns.

The second part of both episodes is short and performative—as it is in thesecond part of the fifth-category (demonic) no– play. Though very short indeed,this section of “The Blizzard” is extremely elaborate. After some backgroundsinging, I recovers and struggles with the Snow Woman, who reveals her longhair and demonic features. Kurosawa calls this transformation yuki onna henge(the apparition of the Snow Woman), a process he describes in detail in his paint-ings (Fig. 6).44 The scene comprises very short shots in which the woman’s fore-head wrinkles appear and multiply while, at the same time, her mane of hair isexposed and “grows” within a few seconds.

The second part of “The Weeping Demon” starts as cries are heard in thedistance. In a deep valley, almost one hundred demons—government officials ormillionaires in previous lives—now suffer the consequence of their folly. Con-torted and crying out in pain, they are gathered around two little blood-red puddles.These cries, which conclude the confrontation with the demons, contrast with theheavenly female vocal solo in “The Blizzard” that heralds the appearance of theSnow Woman.

The spatial features during the climactic appearances in the secondperformative part of the episodes intensify their contrasting characteristics. Having

Figure 6. In “The Blizzard” episode ofDreams, the Snow Woman’s foreheadwrinkles multiply and her wild maneof hair is exposed and “grows” in a fewseconds, thereby revealing her demonicfeatures. Kurosawa’s painting details thistransformation. Courtesy KurosawaProduction, Inc.


failed to subdue I, the Snow Woman vanishes. Only her white garment can still beseen, fluttering up in the air. The use of rapid character changes and flying into theair is very characteristic of kabuki, in which superhuman characters disappearthrough a special technique of flying (chu–nori) above the heads of the spectatorsfrom the stage to the rear wall of the auditorium. In contrast to the smooth flight ofthe Snow Woman, the spasmodic movements of the crying demons are very close tothe ground, in the deep valley, and Kurosawa films them from above, intensifyingthe impact of the scene.

Whereas in no– encounters with both kinds of demons always result in theirbeing vanquished, Kurosawa enriches the harmony between these episodes bycontrasting their endings. In “The Blizzard,” I, as our representative, confronts areal demon and drives it away. The process of vanquishing this demonic characterbecomes clearer if we recall the episode “The Snow Woman” in Kaidan (Kwaidan,1965). Directed by Kobayashi Masaki, it also deals with the character of the SnowWoman but more in the context of a narrative love story. In Kwaidan, the demonicSnow Woman encounters a young woodcutter, Minokichi, pities him because ofhis youth and good looks, and spares him even though she has already killed hisold employer. Later, disguised as a human, she marries him, gives birth to hischildren, and eventually leaves him after he breaks a promise to her, never torelate the incident to anybody. In Dreams, instead of telling a story, Kurosawaconcentrates on I’s confrontation with the Snow Woman and his vanquishing ofher and also precedes this traditional confrontation with ritualistic elements—theclanking and ringing of climbing equipment and the expressive sound of the gaspsof the climbers. These elements, which are not in Kobayashi’s film, make Kurosawa’sepisode more traditional than Kobayashi’s. In contrast to the end of “The Bliz-zard,” the encounter with the human demons ends with I running away, havingbeen asked by the demon to leave if he does not want to become a demon himself.I runs and runs into the heavy black sand.

Kurosawa also contrasts black and white in these episodes. In contrast to thewhite snow throughout “The Blizzard,” the final image is of black lava sand, intowhich I runs. The contrasting colors intensify the opposite result of the encoun-ters: the white reflects the overcoming of the demonic creature, while the blacksuggests yielding to it.

The tendentious casting in these episodes adds another humorous/serious di-mension. The human demon is played by Ikariya Cho–suke, one of Japan’s mostpopular musical comedians, while the Snow Woman is played by Harada Mieko,who played the murderous Lady Kaede, a terrifying personification of evil, in Ran,Kurosawa’s last film before Dreams. This choice adds a human, even comic nu-ance to the “Weeping Demon” episode.

Conclusions. At the press conference Kurosawa and his actors gave after Dreamswas screened at the 1990 Cannes Film Festival, Harada Mieko was asked abouther immediate reaction after reading the scripts for Ran and Dreams. She replied:

When I got the scenario of Ran for the first time, I thought the character of Lady Kaedeto be a very interesting one, and I hoped that the role would not be given to another


actress, because I wanted to play it myself. The present character . . . [the actress pausesmomentarily and corrects herself] ha, the present work, which is called Dreams, well,when I got the scenario, I thought it would become a very beautiful movie. When I readthe scenario, I was very excited and I felt that I would like to play in it.45

There is a reason Harada Mieko corrected herself and did not mention her char-acter, the Snow Woman, in Dreams, for it is not a film based on characters andnarrative. Rather, what seem to be eight unconnected episodes are linked to acreative statement by Kurosawa, a statement whose essence and form originate inJapanese culture. This traditional essence and form, common in such classical per-forming arts as no– but not in the cinema, combine in Dreams to create a uniquemodern embodiment.

The film’s structure, content, means of expression, philosophical thought, andimages all derive from the traditional aristocratic no– theater, as well as from otherfolkloric and aesthetic sources. The eight episodes comprise four pairs of dialecti-cal encounters. The first and the last episodes, comprising the jo and the kyu– lev-els, form the framework and are based on two ambiguous processions that symbolizethe life cycle: a superhuman and threatening wedding set against a human andoptimistic funeral. In between these ceremonies, as the ha level, Kurosawa offerscontrasting manifestations of the three main entities in no–—gods, live or deadmortals, and demons. The first three of the six episodes, between the opening andclosing ones, are juxtaposed with contrasting manifestations of the same entities inthe second three episodes: the second (the purifying god), third (the threateningand evil demon), and fourth (the realistic appearance of ghosts) are set against thefifth (the fictional appearance of a ghost as a live person), sixth (the destructiveand polluting god), and seventh (the human demon).

These six ha episodes also have their own jo-ha-kyu– order. The first two epi-sodes (the jo of the ha level) involve an optimistic encounter with a god and a de-mon: the benevolent god appears and blesses, and later the demon is vanquished.The two episodes in the middle (the ha of the ha level) comprise the encounter withthe ghosts and live mortals. The last two episodes (the kyu– of the ha level), whichare shorter and faster paced than the other four, involve the negative appearance ofa god and a demon: the god pollutes, and our representative is vanquished by thedemon. This last stage of the six episodes presents more realistic appearances bythese two entities than in the no– , and, considered as a single piece, it embodies aneven more complete human experience than a single no– cycle can offer.

The character I, who serves as a medium between the spectators and the maincharacters, functions differently in each episode. When I confronts threateningcharacters or phenomena—the foxes, the Snow Woman, or Mt. Fuji—there is nodirect dialogue between him and them. Instead, I creates a reason for them toappear through his conversations with other characters, such as his mother or thepeople who flee from the mountain, who function much like the waki zure (waki’scompanion) in no– . In the other episodes, I directly evokes the thoughts and feel-ings of the main characters, much as the waki does in the no– .

The structure of each episode comprises a unique manifestation of the jo-ha-kyu– principle, depending on the function of I in relation to the main character. The


jo level always contains a verbal encounter between I and the main character orbetween I and other characters. The ha level always features a climactic scene withthe main character or entity. This level, which in the no– usually involves singing anddancing, is crystallized in Dreams through elements such as dance and other ex-pressive movements, music and sound effects, and singing and nonverbal vocal ex-pression. The kyu– level shows the departure of the main character and/or of I.

Various components in the paired episodes are also molded contradistinctively.Relatively limited verbal expressions are juxtaposed with extensive and varied non-verbal expressions: human gasps, shouts of encouragement, and nonverbal sing-ing, as well as barking and cries, which function as the more important performativeaspect of the film.

The characters’ movements also contrast: vertical/horizontal and high/low.Kurosawa juxtaposes contrasting music as well: classical with popular and Japa-nese with foreign. Likewise, colors, as well as lighting, intensify the contrast be-tween life and death. Tendentious casting highlights the contradictions of humorous/serious and local/foreign characteristics. The contrast of kyo/jitsu (fiction/realityor artificial/real), which is so essential to the artistic world of Kurosawa, who startedhis career as a painter, is embodied by transitions from three dimensional to twodimensional and vice versa.

Although Kurosawa employed traditional thematic and stylistic elements in hisother films, such as Throne of Blood and Ran, and used a kabuki play (Kanjincho–),which was based on a no– play (Ataka), in Tora no o– o fumu otokotachi (The ManWho Tread on the Tiger’s Tail, 1945), Dreams is perhaps the most Japanese of all ofKurosawa’s movies. Instead of merely borrowing traditional elements, this film crys-tallized traditional culture in a novel form. A complete understanding of this film,which first and foremost is intended for the Japanese, as Kurosawa himself declared,can therefore be derived only by comprehending its unique cultural background.

NotesMy sincere thanks to Iwamoto Kenji of Waseda University, Tokyo, and to Miyazawa Seiichiof Nihon University, Tokyo, for their advice and various materials. I am deeply grateful toKurosawa Production, Inc., for supplying me with stills from the film and for permittingme to print them, and to the kyo–gen actor Nomura Mansaku for permission to use thephotos of the kyo–gen masks. I would like to thank the Japan Foundation for my fellowshipin Japan during 1993–1994, which enabled me to conduct the preliminary research for thisarticle. Finally, I would like to thank Cinema Journal’s anonymous readers for their valu-able and insightful comments and suggestions.1. Unless otherwise stated, all translations are the author’s.2. Japanese names are given in the Japanese order: family name first.3. Audie Bock, “The Moralistic Cinema of Kurosawa,” in Kevin K. W. Chang, ed.,

Kurosawa: Perceptions on Life—An Anthology of Essays (Honolulu: Honolulu Acad-emy of Arts, 1991), 22.

4. Stephen Prince, “Memory and Nostalgia in Kurosawa’s Dream World,” Post Script 11,no. 1 (fall 1991): 38.

5. Terrence Rafferty, rev of Dreams, New Yorker, September 10, 1990, in James Goodwin,ed., Perspectives on Akira Kurosawa (New York: G. K. Hall, 1994), 219–21.


6. Donald Richie, “Viewing Japanese Film: Some Considerations,” East-West Film Jour-nal 1, no. 1 (December 1986): 23.

7. Sato– Tadao, “Kokoro arawareru yo–na yo– jiki eno tsuiso–” (Reminiscences of the PurifiableMind of Infancy), Kinema junpo– 1035 (June 1990): 22–23.

8. According to the Chinese philosophical concept of yin and yang, change is the mainfactor in cosmic existence, taking place in permanent movement between two basicpolar cosmic principles or forces. Yang represents activity, positivity, masculinity, heat,brightness, and so on. Yin represents passivity, negativity, femininity, coldness, dark-ness, and so forth. All phenomena in the universe are produced and harmony is cre-ated through the interaction of these forces. The Japanese had already adopted thisconcept in the seventh century, and it is still evident in many aspects of Japanese cul-ture today.

9. Nishimura Yu– ichiro– , “Romantishizumu no rutsu o saguru” (Search for the Roots ofRomanticism), Kinema junpo– 1035 (June 1990): 27.

10. Ibid.11. For example, see his interview with Shirai Yoshio, Shibata Hayao, and Yamada Koichi,

“‘L’Empereur’: Entretien avec Kurosawa Akira,” Cahiers du Cinéma 182 (September1966): 75, and his interview with Sato– Tadao, in Sato– , Kurosawa Akira kaidai (Explana-tory Notes on Kurosawa Akira), (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1990), 192–96.

12. Kurosawa talks in general about the influence of no– costumes on the film’s costumes inNishimura Yu– ichiro– , Kyosho– no mechie: Kurosawa Akira to sutaffutachi (The Techniquesof a Master: Kurosawa Akira and His Staff Members) (Tokyo: Firumu a–to sha, 1987),19–20. The film’s costume designer, Wada Emi, recognizes the influence of no– costumeand masks on her designs for certain characters. See Wada, “Yokubari de junsui na hito”(An Avaricious and Pure Person), interview by Nishimura Yu– ichiro– , Kinema junpo– 909(May 1985): 28, and Nishimura, Kyosho– no mechie, 202–04. Takemitsu To–ru, the film’smusic composer, attributes the singing and characteristic movements of kyo–gen (comicshort plays that are performed between no– plays) by a certain character to direct in-struction by a kyo–gen actor. See Nishimura Yu– ichiro– , Kurosawa Akira: oto to eizo–

(Kurosawa Akira: Sound and Image) (Tokyo: Rippu shobo– , 1990), 305. For a discussionof other no– elements, see Keiko I. McDonald, Japanese Classical Theater in Films (Lon-don: Associated University Press, 1994), 138–44.

13. Kurosawa Akira and Iwasaki Akira, “‘Kumonosujo– ’ o megutte: Iwasaki Akira too– fukishokan” (About “The Castle of the Spider’s Web”: Correspondence with IwasakiAkira), in Zenshu– Kurosawa Akira (The Complete Works of Kurosawa Akira), vol. 4(Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1988), 322.

14. Press conference on Dreams, Cannes Film Festival, May 1990.15. Konparu Kunio, No– e no izanai: jo-ha-kyu– to ma no saiensu (Invitation to the no– : The

Science of jo-ha-kyu– and ma [pause]) (Kyoto: Tanko–sha, 1980), 36–40.16. Kurosawa Akira, Konna yume o mita—Junbiko– (I Saw a Dream Like This—provisional

manuscript) (Tokyo: Kurosawa Production, n.d.).17. Kurosawa Akira, Konna yume o mita—Ketteiko– (I Saw a Dream Like This—final [un-

published] manuscript) (Tokyo: Kurosawa Production, December 27, 1988).18. Kurosawa Akira, Yume (Dreams) (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1990).19. Kyo–gen is a comical theater style that complements the more serious no– . Independent

kyo–gen plays are performed between no– plays, and the kyo–gen actor performs in theinterval between the two halves of the no– play or as a minor character in the play.

20. O––kura Toraaki, Waranbe gusa ([To My] Young Successors), ed. Sasano Ken (Tokyo:

Iwanami shoten, 1962), 117.


21. Kurosawa, Konna yume o mita—Junbiko– , 11–20.22. Kurosawa, Konna yume o mita—Ketteiko– , 1–10.23. Ibid., 57–68.24. For various aspects of Okina, see Erika De Poorter, “No– Which Is No No– : The Ritual

Play Okina,” Maske und Kothurn 35, nos. 2–3 (1989): 21–30.25. The term for this transformation is bakeru or bakesu, which also implies deception,

imposition, cheating, mockery, and so on. The most famous transformation of the foxis into a beautiful young woman with whom a man falls in love under mysterious cir-cumstances, has sexual intercourse with her for one night, or lives with her for manyyears, before she is finally exposed as a vixen. Sometimes such a fox-woman can ben-efit him, but often she harms and even kills him.

26. In Ran, Lady Kaede, Taro– ’s widow, orders Kurogane, Jiro– ’s confident, to kill Lady Sue,Jiro– ’s wife, and to bring her Lady Sue’s head as proof. Instead, he brings the head of afox statue from an Inari shrine and claims that he carried out his duty but was trickedby a fox—that Lady Sue was a fox impersonator (kitsune no keshin). See KurosawaAkira, Oguni Hideo, and Ide Masato, “Ran,” in Zenshu– Kurosawa Akira (The Com-plete Works of Kurosawa Akira), vol. 6 (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1988), 190. Kuroganethen tells the most famous tale of fox impersonation in the Japanese drama. The tale isabout a fox that disguised itself as the queen of two Chinese kings, killed a thousandmen, and destroyed the country. It came to Japan disguised as the beautiful womanTamamo-no-Mae, lived in the Imperial Court, and again executed its brutal acts. Thisis the background of the no– play Sessho–seki (Death Rock). See Ito– Masayoshi, ed.,Yo– kyoku shu– : chu– (Collection of no– plays: Part two) (Tokyo: Shincho– sha, 1986), 225–37. The story constitutes a unique style of narration, katari, in the kyo– gen playTsurigitsune (Fox Trapping). For an English translation of this narration, see RichardN. McKinnon, trans., Selected Plays of Kyo–gen (Tokyo: Uniprint, 1968), 34–36.

27. Yodogawa Nagaharu and O––

bayashi Nobuhiko, “Sho– nen no kokoro o motta subarashiieiga yume ni hakushu o okuro–” (Let’s give a round of applause to the marvelous filmDreams, which has a young mind), in Abe Yoshiaki, ed., Kurosawa Akira shu–sei (Com-pilation of Kurosawa Akira), vol. 2 (Tokyo: Kinema junpo– , 1991), 276–77.

28. This term has a very diverse range of meanings and connotations, such as god, divinity,deity, spirit, or supernatural force.

29. The regular set of hina dolls consists of the two dolls representing the emperor and theempress and thirteen other dolls representing the attendants and musicians of theImperial Court, displayed, according to their status, on a five-shelf open cabinet.

30. It is told in the oldest extant book in Japanese, Kojiki (which was completed in A.D.712), that when Izanagi-no-Mikoto, the first male god and the forefather of the Japa-nese gods, was chased out of “the Realm of the Dead” (yomi no kuni) by many personi-fications of demonic ghosts, he took three peaches and threw them at his pursuingenemies, who, surprised by this fruit, which they had never seen before, retreated. Forthis aid, Izanagi-no-Mikoto proclaimed the peach a god, bestowing on it the nameOho-kamu-zu-mi-no-Mikoto (the great sacred fruit deity). Kurano Kenji, ed., Kojiki(Records of ancient matters) (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1963), 27.

31. This is the reason Izanagi-no-Mikoto was saved by throwing the three peaches. Ibid., n.8.32. Kurosawa, Yume, 18.33. The leader and speaker of the incarnations is a personification of the emperor’s doll,

and the emperor is the highest priest of the shinto– , a descendant of the Sun-Goddess.34. On the cultural level, the strange girl in the episode “The Peach Orchard” appears as a

god, but I believe that Kurosawa also presents her here as an incarnation of his dead


elder sister. His most beloved sister, and best playmate, was the youngest of his oldersisters. “The Little Elder Sister,” as he called her, died at the age of sixteen from anillness. She is connected in Kurosawa’s memory with both the hina dolls festival and thepeach tree. In his autobiography, Kurosawa recalls in detail playing with her at this festi-val on March 3, in front of the dolls, which seemed so lifelike to him that he thought theywould speak at any moment. Kurosawa concludes his memories of her by mentioning herkaimyo– (Buddhist posthumous name), in which the two first characters are to–rin—PeachForest. See Kurosawa Akira, Gama no abura (Toad oil) (Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1990),34–36; Kurosawa Akira, Something Like an Autobiography, trans. Audie E. Bock (NewYork: Vintage Books, 1983), 18–19. In his recent book on Kurosawa’s films, TsuzukiMasaaki interprets the whole episode as the chinkon (repose of souls) of this sister.Tsuzuki, Kurosawa Akira—”isshun issei”: zensanjissakuhin (Kurosawa Akira—“In EachFilm a Whole Life”: All Thirty Films (Tokyo: Ko–dansha, 1998), 296–97.

35. The dramatic pattern is similar to the meeting of the waki with the ghost of Yang Kuei-fei, the famous and beautiful Chinese woman from the eighth century, who appears inthe no– play Yo–-kihi (Yang Kuei-fei) as a living human.

36. Kurosawa, Gama no abura, 131; Kurosawa, Something Like an Autobiography, 71.37. Kurosawa, Gama no abura, 164; Kurosawa, Something Like an Autobiography, 88.38. Kurosawa, Gama no abura, 170; Kurosawa, Something Like an Autobiography, 91.39. Kurosawa, Yume, 62.40. Ibid., 68–69.41. Ibid., 72–73.42. Omote Akira and Kato– Shu– ichi, eds., Zeami, Zenchiku ([Writings of] Zeami and

Zenchiku), in Nihon shiso– taikei (Anthology of Japanese Ideology), vol. 24 (Tokyo:Iwanami shoten, 1974), 129.

43. Ibid., 128.44. Kurosawa, Yume, 56–57.45. Press conference on Dreams, Cannes Film Festival, 1990.

Documents

2001 Zvika Serper - Kurosawa's Dreams a Cinematic Reflection of a Traditional Japanese Dream