Something Like an Autobiography - Akira Kurosawa [111]
Now the pleasure in the work we experienced on Stray Dog seems like a distant dream. The films an audience really enjoys are the ones that were enjoyable in the making. Yet pleasure in the work can’t be achieved unless you know you have put all of your strength into it and have done your best to make it come alive. A film made in this spirit reveals the hearts of the crew.
Scandal
AFTER THE PACIFIC WAR a great deal of noise began to be made about freedom of speech, and almost immediately abuses and loss of self-control ensued. A certain kind of magazine took up flattering the readers’ curiosity and provoking scandals with shamelessly vulgar articles. One day when I was on the train to work I saw an advertisement for one of these magazines, and I was shocked. “Who Stole X’s Virginity?” was in big headlines. The piece was written in a style that looked favorable to X, but in reality it was aimed at turning her into a plaything. Behind the boldness of this kind of writing style I could see something else: The cold calculation that X, whose livelihood as an entertainer depended upon her popularity, would not be able to take any strong action to refute the article.
I did not know X personally. I knew only her name and profession, but when I saw the sensationalistic way this headline article was presented, I couldn’t help thinking about how helpless she must feel. Outraged, I reacted as if the thing had been written about me, and I couldn’t remain silent. Such slander cannot be permitted. This was not freedom of expression, I felt, it was violence against a person on the part of those who possess the weapon of publicity. I felt that this new tendency had to be stamped out before it could spread. Someone had to come out and fight back against this violence, I thought; there was no time for crying oneself to sleep.
This was the impetus for Skyandaru (Scandal, 1950). Of course, today all my fears have come true, and no one thinks anything of scandal sheets. In other words, Scandal proved to be as ineffectual a weapon against slander as a praying mantis against a hatchet. But I have not given up. I am still waiting for the day when someone emerges who is willing to take on this verbal gangsterism for a fight to the finish. In fact, I think I’d like to make another movie dealing with the subject. Scandal did not prove strong enough; I’d like to make a more powerful film.
The more I think about it, the milder a statement Scandal seems to have been. On top of that, while I was writing the script an entirely unexpected character began to take on more life than the main characters, and I ended up being led around by the nose by him. This fellow was the corrupt lawyer Hiruta (“Leech Field”). He comes to the defendants to sell out his client, the plaintiff, who is sincerely attempting to battle the verbal gangsters in court. From this point on, the film went in a direction I had not intended and turned into something quite different.
Characters in a film have their own existence. The filmmaker has no freedom. If he insists on his authority and is allowed to manipulate his characters like puppets, the film loses its vitality. From the moment this Hiruta appeared, the pen I was using to write the screenplay seemed almost bewitched. It wrote on, detailing Hiruta’s actions and words as if of its own accord. I had written many scripts, but this was the first time such a thing happened to me. I didn’t think about the circumstances in which Hiruta lived; the pen just glided on and described his poverty and shame. As this happened, the character of Hiruta quite naturally took over the film and nudged the hero aside. Even as I observed what was happening and knew it was wrong, I could do nothing to stop it.
About half a year after the release of Scandal I was on my way home from a movie theater in Shibuya, riding the Inokashira Line. Suddenly I had to keep myself from shouting out loud. As the train passed the first station outside of Shibuya,