Out of loyalty to both Kurosawa and Dostoevsky I feel guilty for not giving this a slightly higher rating, because I revere both of them. The film is worth watching and has some great moments, but it's uneven and lags, falling a little short of greatness.
The title character is a man who was saved from execution at the last moment and suffers from epilepsy, like Dostoevsky himself. Perhaps in a fantasy projection of Dostoevsky's then, and certainly as an embodiment of Christ's virtues, 'the idiot' (Kameda in the film, played by Masayuki Mori) has seen eternity in that moment, and knows how insignificant all of our earthly cares and passions are. He knows that the only important things are kindness and empathy. There is a lovely scene early on when he describes that critical moment to Ayako (Yoshiko Kuga), the daughter of a family relation:
Kameda: "Everyone in the world suddenly seemed so dear to me." Ayako: "Everyone in the world?" Kameda: "Each and every person I'd ever known. Everyone I'd ever passed in the street. And not just people - the puppy I'd thrown a rock at as a child. Why hadn't I been kinder?" Ayako: "To the puppy?" Kameda: "No, everyone! I told myself that if I were spared, I would be kinder and more considerate to everyone."
Kameda seems so different from others in his childlike simplicity, and in how he breaks down life's conventions in order to understand people and make an authentic, heartfelt connection to them. Those who come into contact with him feel truly 'seen', accepted, and not judged. He's detached from the world's practicalities and yet has pure empathy with his fellow creatures, which is true wisdom, and a higher spiritual state.
The first hour of the film was its strongest, but due to the editing done near the beginning, replacing scenes with textual descriptions and dropping names rather rapidly, it can be disorienting for the viewer. The story is really not that complicated, so bear with it, or if you can, 'pause' and figure things out. Part of the issue may be in the similarity in the beginning of names (Kameda/Kayama, Akama/Ayako, Taeko/Takako).
Early on we have Kayama (Minoru Chiaki) being put forth as a possible husband to Taeko (Setsuko Hara) in order to 'make a respectable woman out of her' (after all, she's been the mistress of her rich uncle since she was 14, and thus 'used goods'...ugh) There are multiple complications to this scheme, Kayama's family (and sister Takako in particular) questions her morality, another man named Akama (Toshiro Mifune) loves her, and Kayama himself is in love with his boss's daughter Ayako. On top of all that, enter Kameda, who immediately makes a connection with Taeko, looking into her soul, seeing her pain and her inner goodness, despite what others think. Soon it will be a simpler love triangle, but one that's a little different than most - Akama loves her sensually, but Kameda loves her purely spiritually. She feels tugged between the two, but worries that she'll "ruin the life of an innocent child" if she ends up with Kameda.
Setsuko Hara has fantastic presence in this film, and I thought Kurosawa really brought out her inner fire. The icy stares she exchanges with her prospective sister-in-law early on are filled with tension. She conveys defensive haughtiness, vulnerability, and anger very well. To her uncle, the man who has been her predator turned 'lover', she says "I'm no longer your 14-year-old mistress," and that simple line is like a ton of bricks. In telling her story to Kameda, with an entire room full of people listening, she says "He'd do lewd and shameful things to me and then leave," and we can imagine and understand the damage he's done. Finally meeting someone who empathizes with her, treating her with dignity and kindness, she says "I hoped and prayed, imaging someone like you. Hoping that a good, honest, kind man would appear." They are powerful moments. Hara is excellent in all of her scenes, and I wish there could have been more of them.
Where the film begins bogging down a bit is the development of a second love triangle, this time between Ayako, Kayama, and again, Kameda. Ayako is also drawn to Kameda's spirituality, and thus becomes a rival to Taeko, even as Taeko swings back and forth between Kameda and Akama. This is one area where the film should have been tightened up, because some of these scenes are too long, and frankly lacking when Hara is not on the screen. Masayuki Mori's performance as Kameda is not the best - he certainly portrays the internalization of another's pain, and we see it all over his face, but he lacks warmth, and beatific wisdom.
There are some wonderful scenes in the snow throughout the film, most notably in an ice skating scene during a festival, with skaters carrying torches and wearing masks. It's as if the snow and harsh climate, with houses buried and Kameda practically having to go underground to visit Akama, is a symbol of men's souls, cold and buried. And, just as Kameda is "saved" spiritually by his near-death experience, which causes him to re-evaluate his entire outlook on life and to be kind and angelic to all of those around him, he's saved again by a physical manifestation of this transformation - an epileptic fit - just as Akama tries to murder him.
Unfortunately the film is marred with clumsy cuts, side-swipes, and other edits likely due to the studio hacking the original film down to a more palatable length. Say what you want about that, but there are real issues with pace even in the finished product. Perhaps that's because the wrong things were excised, e.g. Ippolit, the atheist/nihilist in the novel who also interacts with Myshkin, would have provided a separate dimension from the two love triangles. It may also be due to the film suffering, as others adaptations do, because it's very difficult to include the observations an author makes in addition to giving us characters and a plot. In this case, it's Dostoevsky no less, and in what was a very personal novel to him, and we don't see his commentary on life, death, man's nature, religion, happiness, loneliness, capital punishment, the impact we can have on other's lives, etc. All or most of that is lost. The pacing that holds together in a sprawling novel (and arguably just barely) does not work as well in film form, and so a literal translation is risky, even though Kurosawa's intentions were good.
The title character is a man who was saved from execution at the last moment and suffers from epilepsy, like Dostoevsky himself. Perhaps in a fantasy projection of Dostoevsky's then, and certainly as an embodiment of Christ's virtues, 'the idiot' (Kameda in the film, played by Masayuki Mori) has seen eternity in that moment, and knows how insignificant all of our earthly cares and passions are. He knows that the only important things are kindness and empathy. There is a lovely scene early on when he describes that critical moment to Ayako (Yoshiko Kuga), the daughter of a family relation:
Kameda: "Everyone in the world suddenly seemed so dear to me." Ayako: "Everyone in the world?" Kameda: "Each and every person I'd ever known. Everyone I'd ever passed in the street. And not just people - the puppy I'd thrown a rock at as a child. Why hadn't I been kinder?" Ayako: "To the puppy?" Kameda: "No, everyone! I told myself that if I were spared, I would be kinder and more considerate to everyone."
Kameda seems so different from others in his childlike simplicity, and in how he breaks down life's conventions in order to understand people and make an authentic, heartfelt connection to them. Those who come into contact with him feel truly 'seen', accepted, and not judged. He's detached from the world's practicalities and yet has pure empathy with his fellow creatures, which is true wisdom, and a higher spiritual state.
The first hour of the film was its strongest, but due to the editing done near the beginning, replacing scenes with textual descriptions and dropping names rather rapidly, it can be disorienting for the viewer. The story is really not that complicated, so bear with it, or if you can, 'pause' and figure things out. Part of the issue may be in the similarity in the beginning of names (Kameda/Kayama, Akama/Ayako, Taeko/Takako).
Early on we have Kayama (Minoru Chiaki) being put forth as a possible husband to Taeko (Setsuko Hara) in order to 'make a respectable woman out of her' (after all, she's been the mistress of her rich uncle since she was 14, and thus 'used goods'...ugh) There are multiple complications to this scheme, Kayama's family (and sister Takako in particular) questions her morality, another man named Akama (Toshiro Mifune) loves her, and Kayama himself is in love with his boss's daughter Ayako. On top of all that, enter Kameda, who immediately makes a connection with Taeko, looking into her soul, seeing her pain and her inner goodness, despite what others think. Soon it will be a simpler love triangle, but one that's a little different than most - Akama loves her sensually, but Kameda loves her purely spiritually. She feels tugged between the two, but worries that she'll "ruin the life of an innocent child" if she ends up with Kameda.
Setsuko Hara has fantastic presence in this film, and I thought Kurosawa really brought out her inner fire. The icy stares she exchanges with her prospective sister-in-law early on are filled with tension. She conveys defensive haughtiness, vulnerability, and anger very well. To her uncle, the man who has been her predator turned 'lover', she says "I'm no longer your 14-year-old mistress," and that simple line is like a ton of bricks. In telling her story to Kameda, with an entire room full of people listening, she says "He'd do lewd and shameful things to me and then leave," and we can imagine and understand the damage he's done. Finally meeting someone who empathizes with her, treating her with dignity and kindness, she says "I hoped and prayed, imaging someone like you. Hoping that a good, honest, kind man would appear." They are powerful moments. Hara is excellent in all of her scenes, and I wish there could have been more of them.
Where the film begins bogging down a bit is the development of a second love triangle, this time between Ayako, Kayama, and again, Kameda. Ayako is also drawn to Kameda's spirituality, and thus becomes a rival to Taeko, even as Taeko swings back and forth between Kameda and Akama. This is one area where the film should have been tightened up, because some of these scenes are too long, and frankly lacking when Hara is not on the screen. Masayuki Mori's performance as Kameda is not the best - he certainly portrays the internalization of another's pain, and we see it all over his face, but he lacks warmth, and beatific wisdom.
There are some wonderful scenes in the snow throughout the film, most notably in an ice skating scene during a festival, with skaters carrying torches and wearing masks. It's as if the snow and harsh climate, with houses buried and Kameda practically having to go underground to visit Akama, is a symbol of men's souls, cold and buried. And, just as Kameda is "saved" spiritually by his near-death experience, which causes him to re-evaluate his entire outlook on life and to be kind and angelic to all of those around him, he's saved again by a physical manifestation of this transformation - an epileptic fit - just as Akama tries to murder him.
Unfortunately the film is marred with clumsy cuts, side-swipes, and other edits likely due to the studio hacking the original film down to a more palatable length. Say what you want about that, but there are real issues with pace even in the finished product. Perhaps that's because the wrong things were excised, e.g. Ippolit, the atheist/nihilist in the novel who also interacts with Myshkin, would have provided a separate dimension from the two love triangles. It may also be due to the film suffering, as others adaptations do, because it's very difficult to include the observations an author makes in addition to giving us characters and a plot. In this case, it's Dostoevsky no less, and in what was a very personal novel to him, and we don't see his commentary on life, death, man's nature, religion, happiness, loneliness, capital punishment, the impact we can have on other's lives, etc. All or most of that is lost. The pacing that holds together in a sprawling novel (and arguably just barely) does not work as well in film form, and so a literal translation is risky, even though Kurosawa's intentions were good.