A.K. (1985)
Directed by Chris Marker

Film Review

Chris Marker's affinity for Japanese culture, so evident in his acclaimed documentary Sans soleil (1983), made him the natural choice for producer Serge Silberman to direct a Making Of feature on Akira Kurosawa's latest samurai epic Ran (1985).  Having put up a large amount of the money for Ran, Silberman was presumably keen to exploit whatever opportunity he could to market it, but the film that Marker made for him is far more substantial than the anodyne Making Of that, with the advent of DVD, we have now grown accustomed to.  As its title implies, A.K. offers not just a behind-the-scenes look at the making of a great film, as interesting as that may be; it also provides an intelligent and intimate portrait of one of the 20th century's most important artists, the man who first brought Japanese cinema to the attention of the West in the 1950s.

Most of Marker's film consists of long, often highly revealing, shots of the cast and crew at war with their two biggest enemies, time and the weather.  Kurosawa's legendary perfectionism is borne out by the rigour with which he rehearses his actors.   It was a kind of obsession with the director that he would only ever record one take, and so he would rehearse his actors and technicians over and over, until he achieved what was as close to perfection as possible, given the constraints of time and money.  Not all of the effort pays off, however.  One part of the film offers the almost surreal spectacle of Kurosawa's crew spray-painting a wheat field gold, for a shot that would hastily be discarded (and we can see why). 

Whilst armies of actors stand on the sidelines in boredom, slowly freezing to death as they await the summons to appear before the camera, Kurosawa conducts scenes of intense activity elsewhere, expecting everyone to muck in and undertake the most menial of tasks, irrespective of their official job title.  The impression of Kurosawa that Marker conveys is that of a man who is entirely in his element, a man who is revered and liked by everyone around him, even if he is undeniably a hard taskmaster and doesn't suffer fools gladly.  Referred to by all and sundry in respectful tones as Sensei, the director can count on the unquestioning support of the seven crew members who have worked with him most often, his seven samurai.

Marker also throws in some audio tape interviews with the director and refers to his childhood influences, in particular the day when his older brother took him to see corpses littering the landscape in the aftermath of the Great Kanto earthquake of 1923.  The 13-year old Kurosawa learned an important lesson from his brother that day: only by confronting the horrors that exist in the world will we cease to fear them.

Since the weather plays an important part in all of Kurosawa's films, it is interesting to see how he deals with the challenges posed by a capricious autumn climate.  The director's endless battles with the elements remind us of the tense stand-off sequence at the end of Sanjuro (1962); on each and every occasion, it is the persistent, Zen-like Kurosawa who triumphs, proving that he is the indomitable samurai master of his art.  With his customary flair and attention to detail, Chris Marker gives us an engaging insight into a great cineaste and his methods, one that is wide-ranging, balanced and endlessly fascinating; some years later, he would pull off the same trick with his subsequent profile of the Soviet filmmaker Andrei Tarkovski, Une journée d'Andreï Arsenevitch (2000).

Film Synopsis

In the autumn of 1984, independent filmmaker Chris Marker joins the cast and crew of Akira Kurosawa's latest epic film Ran on the windy slopes of Mount Fuji in Japan.  Like everyone around him, Marker soon comes to regard Kurosawa with awe and addresses him as Sensei, meaning Master.  Despite the authority he commands, Kurosawa is an unimposing presence, a quietly spoken 75-year-old man in a cloth cap and sunglasses.  He admits this is the most tiring film he has ever made, but still he insists on perfection from his co-workers, despite the incredibly tight shooting schedule.  The weather is Kurosawa's main enemy.  Sometimes it taunts him, offering him opportunities he hasn't the time to exploit.  Sometimes it frustrates him, the wind that annoyingly drops without warning, the sun that emerges unexpectedly from behind a cloud or the fog that takes an eternity to clear.  Yet the ageing filmmaker perseveres, unperturbed by these setbacks, confident he can make another film that audiences will want to see...