Product Description

In this film, considered by some critics to be Akira Kurosawa's greatest and most compassionate achievement, Takashi Shimura (Seven Samurai) portrays Kenji Watanabe, an aging bureaucrat with stomach cancer forced to strip the veneer off his existence and find meaning in his final days.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #26146 in DVD
• Brand: Image Entertainment
• Released on: 2004-01-06
• Rating: NR (Not Rated)
• Aspect ratio: 1.33:1
• Formats: Black & White, Color, DVD, Special Edition, Subtitled, NTSC
• Original language: Japanese
• Subtitled in: English
• Number of discs: 2
• Dimensions: 1.00 pounds
• Running time: 143 minutes

Amazon.com essential video
Blessed with timeless humanity, grace, and heartbreaking compassion, Ikiru is one of the most moving dramas in the history of film. Legendary director Akira Kurosawa is best remembered for his samurai epics, but this contemporary masterpiece ranks among his greatest achievements, matched in every respect by the finest performance of Takashi Shimura's celebrated career. Shimura, who nobly led the Seven Samurai two years later, is sublimely perfect as a melancholy civil servant who, upon learning that he has terminal cancer, realizes he has nothing to show for his dreary, unsatisfying life. He seeks solace in nightlife and family, to no avail, until a simple inspiration leads him to a final, enduring act of public generosity. Expressing his own thoughts about death and the universal desire for a meaningful existence, Kurosawa infuses this drama with social conscience and deep, personal conviction, arriving at a conclusion that is emotionally overwhelming and simply unforgettable. --Jeff Shannon

Customer Reviews

One Of The Greatest Films Ever!
There are many wonderful reviews on this site about why the film "Ikiru" is so great. And many are beautifully written. I have seen many films in my life, yet "Ikiru" stands head and shoulders above any I have ever seen. For me, the film is not only the greatest Japanese film ever, but the greatest film of all-time. One of the reviewers [BARRY C. CHOW] gave a very good and poignant review of this film. And I hope he is wrong that the film will not appeal "to those raised on a western diet of car crashes, yammering idiots and pixie dust." However, maybe in time, when these viewers have grown older, wiser, and have experienced life, then these viewers will come to appreciate the pure genius of this Kurosawa classic.

I know that writing that this is the greatest film of all-time is a bold statement. So let me clarify it a bit more: It is my favorite film of all-time. I have seen countless films, but none have had the impact that this film has had on me. Ikiru (To Live) is not a film about dying: but how we live our lives. And in this short life of ours how we live our life matters. Are we kind to our neighbors? Do we care for our children? And just as important: Do we spend enough quality time with them? This is a quiet and simple film. The main protagonist Kanji Watanabe (Takashi Shimura) has gone through his life as another cog in the bureaucratic office where he works.

Maybe at one time in his life he had dreams of better things; yet with time he grows accustomed to his job; and is no longer alive with the passion of what makes life enjoyable. Yes, one can belong to a bureaucratic machine; but one can also make a difference, as we the viewer are about to find out. Moreover, we can also live a life outside of our jobs. We can all make a difference no matter what our life's work entails. However, events in Watanabe's life are about to take a different turn. A turn for the worse, and yet, also a redeeming turn for the better. When Watanabe is diagnosed with an incurable illness, he sets about to give some meaning to a life wasted as a lifetime bureaucrat. For our humble protagonist realizes that his life must have a meaning. Watanabe realizes that through all the wasted years since his wifes death he has not accomplished anything worthwhile. Alienated from his son, he sets about to correct in what little time he has remaining to make some sort of contribution to society.

And this contribution comes in the way of a childrens park. Akira Kurosawa does not insult his viewers with a grand design of a holy crusader about to change the world. No, for Mr. Watanabe, the simple desire to build a childrens park is all that he seeks. Simple and yet all so poignant. We the viewer follow Mr. Watanabe as he meets the very bureaucratic headaches that he himself was once a part of, but no longer. We have sympathy for Mr. Watanabe as goes about trying to cut through all the red tape in order to see the park built before he dies. No longer the obstructionist bureaucrat, he now comes face to face with the very obstacles others have faced when he was once the obstructionist.

This is Watanabe's attempt to make amends for his own past. This is not only Kurosawa's greatest film, but the greatest film ever. There are no shoot-outs, explosions or car chases. This film is a simple reminder to those of us who are willing to take the time to see what Kurosawa is attempting to show us: That life is short. And that what we do with our lives matters. How many of us, like the protagonist Kanji Watanabe are alive, but have not lived life? Do we put off visting our loved ones? Are we just going through the motions of life? Or are we living a life of quality?

And yes, our dear protagonist Mr. Watanabe does succeed in the end at making a contribution, no matter how small. And Takashi Shimura's character does succeed in giving some meaning to his short life and existence--his way of contributing, no matter how small, to those in his community. I first watched this film in 1977, and I never tire of viewing it again and again. There is not a scene in the film that I cannot recall. This is a heartfelt film, and Takashi Shimura [His greatest role] plays his part in the film with such outstanding humility, that we the viewer come to empathize with him. I have never forgotten the part where he sings, both in the drinking establishment, and at the end of the film; swinging in the now finished children's playground: So haunting, and yet so beautiful. This film puts what's really important in life into perspective. Life is too short, make the best of it. And more importantly, live your life as if each day were the last. There are not enough stars to give this great classic. [Stars: 5+++++]

Utterly beautiful and moving.
Since others have written lengthy, intelligent reviews (And I'm glad they did) I will use my space to be simple. The film, at its most basic level, is about redemption, living (Ikiru is "To Live" in english) and dying, and what matters most to really make a difference in your life, and the lives of others. The film is quiet yet utterly powerful, a basic study of a man trying to find meaning in his last days. But it's so much more than that, and I can only describe the film and its purpose as noble, genuine, warm, moving, and beautiful. It is not a sappy, happy movie, but it's so quietly affecting that I'm a grown man who is still reduced to tears seeing the pivotal "swing" scene that is on the movie's cover. What is happening in that scene, what it means, what it represents, and what is being said during the shot, is, to me, just about the most hauntingly moving scene I've ever witnessed. And I will remember it forever, as well as all of Ikiru, as a poignant, sad yet triumphant example of the human spirit to really persevere and make a wonderful difference.

A Film For All Seasons
This is a humble film with the soul of an angel. It isn't about a life so much as it is about the act of living. This film, in its quiet way, asks us to ponder what makes life meaningful. And it argues that our pursuit of life's quantity is misplaced, because it leads to neglect of life's quality.

It tells the story of a dying man's last days. Kanji Watanabe is a lifelong cog in a vast bureaucratic machine who has wasted his entire life shuffling papers. He is played by Takashi Shimura in one of the finest understated performances ever committed to film. Shot in black and white, it is melancholic, bleak and subdued. Likely, Kurosawa chose to film in black and white to reflect the starkness of the protagonist's last days; the way the world looks through dying eyes; and it works.

It is the mark of Kurosawa's genius how the story and the character sneak up on us. At first, Mr. Watanabe seems an uninspiring study, hardly worthy of our sympathy. A small meek fragile man, he almost stoops under the weight of his own life. He learns of his illness in a well-known opening scene that combines pathos with cruel irony, and before we know it, we start to care about this little man who life treads so callously underfoot. What at first looks like lack of courage reveals itself to be lack of motivation. What we take to be a spineless career of dull conformity turns out to be a sacrifice made for the sake of an unappreciative son. This film has layers and subtlety and visual poetry presented with understatement, finesse and restraint: a wonderful combination that shows the deepest respect for the intelligence of the audience.

The moral turning point in the story is reached when Mr Watanabe determines to accomplish one worthwhile achievement before his life ends. We don't realize how involved we have become in this little man's life until we find ourselves mentally urging him onward to overcome every bureaucratic obstacle he encounters. Not so long ago, with the prospect of a long life still stretched out before him, he was one of the very bureaucrats whose job it was to obstruct and confound just such aspirations. Now, with barely months to live, he makes it his duty to champion them. This turn of events is one of the most touching acts of redemption in all of cinema. By making amends for an unworthy past, an ordinary everyman finds life's meaning in his very last act of living.

I have watched hundreds of films since Ikiru, but there are scenes from this film that have burned themselves into my heart and are as clear today as the moment I first saw them. This occurs not because the director achieved an especially vivid special effect, but because of how deeply we come to care for our little hero. The famous scene at the end is one of the most dignified and gracious artistic statements ever filmed, yet it is a scene of wounding simplicity: a perfect epitaph to a cinematic elegy.

Kurosawa was one of the greatest of all filmmakers and this was his best and most personal film. It's a crime that his work is known only among the literati of the film world, and not to a wider audience. I cannot promise you that you will like this film, because it is paced with a measured and quiet deliberation that is utterly foreign to those raised on a western diet of car crashes, yammering idiots and pixie dust. You need patience, introspection and empathy to appreciate this gentle masterpiece, but if you are the kind of person who is moved by pity, tenderness, humility and grace, then I envy you your first viewing of this ode to the human spirit.