Absolutely brilliant

A lot of perfectly good film show their cards early, establish a unique premise and let the audience explore a topic at a leisurely pace, without much in terms of surprise. this film is not one of those films.

I enjoyed watching this film and would recommend other to give it a try , (as I am) but this movie, although enjoyable to watch due to the better than average acting fails to add anything new to its storyline that is all too familiar to these types of movies.

Blistering performances.

There's not all that much to 'Rashomon (1950)', with the different characters' points of views only offering slightly different takes on a relatively similar series of events, but at the very least it provides a unique way of telling an entertaining tale, one that's expertly shot with a fluidity seldom seen in cinema from the period. It's also filled with fantastic performances throughout. While the premise seems as though it aims to explore the free-flowing nature of 'truth' and how nothing is absolute, instead it looks at the lies we tell in order to project a better version of ourselves and also offers a rather ham-fisted examination of the deceitful nature of human-kind. It's ultimately a hopeful film, though, with the downpour of rain coming to a close with one final act of kindness. It's really its unique take on camera-work and story structure that cements it as a piece of cinematic history. 7/10

Rashomon offers four subjective narratives talking about the same event in the past, which is the death of a samurai in the woods. The film starts by introducing three characters at the Rashomon Gate: a woodcutter, a priest, and a commoner. While the heavy rain is pouring down to the ground, the woodcutter and the priest take turn for telling the commoner the stories of the dead samurai from the mouth of the bandit, the samurai's wife, and the samurai himself (in the ghost mode). From this point the film continues repeating the same event, but there is always something which creates contradiction with the previous or the latter version of the event. As you are watching the film, you would get confuse and eventually feel frustrated because you couldn't tell what really happened inside the woods. And perhaps we don't suppose to figure out at all. Akira Kurosawa, the director of Rashomon, told his assistant directors who didn't understand the script that the script is comprehensible already, even though there isn't any solution given inside the script. In Rashomon, Kurosawa didn't create a film which is formed in classical narrative structure (exposition, rising action, climax, resolution). What he created is a film that doesn't treat flashback as reality of the past. This is perhaps why Rashomon become one of a few films that being discussed over and over again in film studies classes.

Based on a short story by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa, Rashomon is one of Akira Kurosawa's biggest films and the breakthrough film that brought him and Japanese cinema in general to Western audiences. A tale about a murder and the various lies we tell each other to make sense of our existence.The film is about a murder trial. A nefarious bandit, Tajômaru (Toshirô Mifune), is accused of murdering a travelling samurai in front of his wife. We hear four different versions of the events that took place. One from each of the three and one from a bystander. Each tale differs from one another and in the end it's left for the viewer to decide who to believe.Rashomon is a clever tale and full of depths, but it also shows that Kurosawa was still travelling towards his prime. The acting is a bit overplayed in certain scenes. Mifune especially overacts constantly, which in some ways fits the character, but is still a bit jarring. The score is also surprisingly distracting. That being said, the camera-work is beautiful, the storytelling works very well and even the framing story about people hiding from the rain and talking about the trial is not as bad as it could be.And it's simply a fascinating story on thematic level. It's made clear very early that all the witnesses lie to make themselves look better. They all try to shift the blame, to make their own accord seem dignified or born out of necessity. Even the final story by the bystander has undercurrents that make it seem not as objective as it should. So who to believe?In the end the film provides no answers. Rather it asks us to wonder how common this sort of behaviour is in everyday life. Do we shape our subjective realities by telling stories? And if we do so, do we also allow the stories of others to have an affect on what we believe to be true, to be reality?It's up to you to decide. But first you have to ask the question in the first place.

While sharing the name of the short-story Rashômon, this Kurosawa film is actually in large part based on another Akutagawa story called In a Bamboo Grove. The closest relation it has to its namesake comes through sharing the Rashômon Gate as a location, as well as another small similarity touched upon later.There are some key differences between the film and the short-story, which serve to illustrate a lot of what Kurosawa attempted with the film. The most obvious one is that while we in the original are only related the testimonies of the different parties involved, we are first taken to the Rashômon in the film. The opening scene is stunningly well-composed, with the broken-down building providing shelter for a peasant (played by Takashi Shimura) and a priest from a seemingly endless rainstorm. As with so many of his other movies, Kurosawa knows how to use nature to produce a mood for his scene. The relentless flood, the shattered gate, the two men with their heads dropped, all speak of a distraught situation. Suddenly another man comes running in through the rain, from the direction of the camera, stomping through the mud to reach shelter. He asks the peasant and the priest what they are so upset about, and after the newcomer lights a fire, the peasant starts telling the story of a murder. Yet, the murder itself holds not the strangeness of this tale. How it is related to the police is what leaves all those involved confused. The thing is that everyone related (including the victim via a medium) has given a different account of the events. The only common elements being that a bandit loured a couple into a grove, tied up the man, and raped his wife. Here we see the second difference between the stories, because whereas Akutagawa only include the testimonies, Kurosawa includes a second account by the peasant that found the body. This is not related to the police, but rather to the newcomer under the Rashômon, revealing that he thinks everyone else was lying. But, as the newcomer points out, he could very well be lying too. In this way, whilst the original story subtly points out how truth can quickly become a subjective matter, as well as addressing the sadness in the woman's situation – as she is rejected by her husband after being dishonoured by the bandit – Kurosawa instead makes almost a mockery of how our ideas of ourselves end up being what we relate, and how reality often ends up being much less honourable. This is particularly evident in the peasants second account, as the two men almost quiver whilst fighting each other, losing their swords and stumbling several times.To me, this is where the film almost fumbles a bit. As if it is slightly uncertain what idea it wishes to espouse, the following scene tries to deal with both the consequence of not being able to trust anyone, where the story the peasant told seemed to include a theme of its own. The problem is that if you trust the peasant, the story loses the subtle aspect of Akutagawa's original in that it instead of painting the truth as a loose concept, it paints the people testifying as egotistical. And if you don't trust him, the tale loses the aspect of, almost comically, rendering reality a much less impressive fact than our stories about it. The film ends with the men under the Rashômon finding an abandoned baby and one of them stealing the kimono it is wrapped in, saying that if he does not take it, someone else will (which is similar to Akutagawa's Rashômon story where one of the characters is stealing from the dead under the same mores). After having an argument with the peasant, the kimono-stealer wanders off. The priest has picked up the baby, and when the peasant tries to take him he asks if he wants to steal his linens too. After which the peasant says he has six children and it won't make a difference if he raises another (reminding me of a Turgenev poem about the generosity of those who give from what little they have). The priest apologises, the rain stops, and the film ends. Despite its dour depiction of people, it still wants us to believe in them.Aside from the slight muddling of themes, Rashômon is a great film filled with lots of great visual elements. Kurosawa, is, as always, a master of movement. His characters move together with the background and the camera to fill every scene with emotion. My favourite shot in the film was of the bandit (portrayed by masterful Toshirô Mifune) on his stomach in the sand, sprawling in agony as he just pushed the policeman that found him into the water. The way Mifune moves is combined with the camera movement to show his traces in the sand, telling the story of his last few minutes in a matter of seconds. Throughout the film, this camera use and Kurosawa's blocking is thoroughly enjoyable, adding onto each scene, whether that is in terms of comedy or tragedy. The acting is also top notch, if at times as over-the-top as is usual with Kurosawa. The music is pretty good, but did not stand out to me as particularly memorable. It worked well with the scenes it was in, and sometimes preceded the on-camera reveal.The story is a simple one, and it fumbles a bit in trying to handle several themes, but the film is very well directed and though there isn't much dialogue, the visual acting is tremendous. Mifune stands out. I do wish it was a bit subtler in letting its story speak for itself, like Akutagawa did with the original short-story, as it does not really come through in dealing with the consequences of its themes. In lack of a 8.5 score, I gave the film a 9. Definitely worth watching.