The idea of the auteur direcÂtor has been a conÂtroÂverÂsial one at times givÂen the sheer numÂber of peoÂple required at every stage to proÂduce a film. But it hangs togethÂer for me when you look at the films of say, MarÂtin ScorsÂese or AkiÂra KuroÂsawa, both direcÂtors with very disÂtincÂtive visuÂal lanÂguages and ways of movÂing the camÂera. GrantÂed, neiÂther direcÂtor would be who he is withÂout their crack teams of actors, writÂers, comÂposers, cinÂeÂmatogÂraÂphers, etc. But it is part of their genius to conÂsisÂtentÂly pull those teams togethÂer to realÂize visions that none of the indiÂvidÂuÂals involved could fulÂly see on their own. Though the final prodÂuct may be the result of milÂlions of dolÂlars and thouÂsands of hours of work by hunÂdreds of peoÂple, the films of an auteur take shape foreÂmost in the direcÂtors’ mind’s eye (and paintÂings and stoÂryÂboards) rather than the writer’s script or proÂducÂer’s conÂferÂence room.
These direcÂtors are driÂven, like painters, to realÂize their visions, and in KuroÂsawa’s case, that driÂve lastÂed right up until the end of his life. (It was his wish to die on set, though an acciÂdent left him unable to walk and put an end to his directÂing career three years before the end of his life.) A painter himÂself, his films have always been colÂorÂful and painterÂly, and his final few projects were intenseÂly so. One of those last films, 1990’s Dreams, the first of his films for which he alone wrote the screenÂplay, not only origÂiÂnatÂed fulÂly in KuroÂsawa’s mind, but in his unconÂscious. A deparÂture from his typÂiÂcalÂly epic narÂraÂtives, the film folÂlows varÂiÂous KuroÂsawa surÂroÂgates through eight vignettes, based on eight recurÂring dreams, each one unfoldÂing with a surÂreÂal logÂic all of its own. In the fifth short episode, “Crows,” KuroÂsawa casts ScorsÂese, his felÂlow auteur and his equal as a visuÂal stylÂist, as VinÂcent Van Gogh.
The camÂera begins in a gallery, movÂing restÂlessÂly before sevÂerÂal Van Gogh paintÂings and behind an art student—identifiable as a KuroÂsawa stand-in by the flopÂpy white hat he puts on in the next scene, when he wanÂders into the French counÂtryÂside of the paintÂings. The fields, bridge, and barns are renÂdered in Van Gogh’s brilÂliant colÂors and skewed lines—and the stuÂdent jourÂneys furÂther in to meet the artist himÂself: ScorsÂese in red beard and banÂdaged ear. This is the only episode in the film not in JapanÂese; the stuÂdent speaks French to a group of women, and Van Gogh speaks ScorsÂese’s New York-accentÂed EngÂlish, givÂing a lesÂson on “natÂurÂal beauÂty” (the video above adds SpanÂish subÂtiÂtles). It is not the most conÂvincÂing perÂforÂmance from ScorsÂese, but that hardÂly seems to be the point. This is not so much ScorsÂese as Van Gogh, but rather Van Gogh as ScorsÂese, and KuroÂsawa dreams himÂself as a younger acolyte of his AmerÂiÂcan counÂterÂpart.
“Crows,” writes VinÂcent CanÂby, is the “least charÂacÂterÂisÂtic segÂment ” of Dreams—the othÂers manÂiÂfest much more familÂiar, more JapanÂese, scenes and themes. But it is for that reaÂson that “Crows” is perÂhaps the most revealÂing of KuroÂsawa’s stateÂments on his staÂtus as an auteur and his relaÂtionÂship with his peers. He approachÂes Van Gogh/Scorsese not as a rival or even an equal, but as a stuÂdent, filled with quesÂtions and a desire to underÂstand the artist’s methÂods and motives. The short segÂment speaks to the way KuroÂsawa eagerÂly learned much from WestÂern artists even as he masÂtered his own cinÂeÂmatÂic lanÂguage with disÂtinctÂly JapanÂese stoÂries. In this way, he manÂiÂfestÂed yet anothÂer qualÂiÂty of the auteur: a truÂly interÂnaÂtionÂal approach to film that tranÂscends barÂriÂers of lanÂguage and culÂture.
You can purÂchase a copy of KuroÂsawa’s comÂplete film here.
RelatÂed ConÂtent:
The PaintÂings of AkiÂra KuroÂsawa
RevisÂit MarÂtin Scorsese’s Hand-Drawn StoÂryÂboards for Taxi DriÂver
Josh Jones is a writer and musiÂcian based in Durham, NC. FolÂlow him at @jdmagness
