The Double-edged Dagger: The Two Faces of Humanity
Can you trust another human being? Even if they
passionately plead their case before you and fervently claim innocence, can
they be believed? These are the questions posed by the 1950 film, Rashomon, directed by Akira
Kurosawa. In this monumental piece of Japanese art, the people,
props, and plot paint the picture of one of life’s most intriguing, yet
perplexing mysteries. Viewers throughout the world have observed this brilliant
story and by its end, drawn the conclusion that humans, by nature are victims
of just that, their own nature. The story of Rashomon illustrates the vacancy in the human heart of the needs
and interest of others. It becomes clear that when viewers reflect on the self,
each person, no matter how moral or humanly, is most concerned with his or her
own wants and needs. Perhaps most convicting is the truth as demonstrated here
in the film that even the best people tend to be willing to, by any means
necessary, protect the self, even if it means stabbing another in the back.
Kurosawa knew exactly the kind of
message he wanted to relay to his viewers when he designed this film’s
direction. From the opening scene with the confounded woodcutter who has been
contemplating all he has witnessed, to the end scene when the priest’s faith in
humanity is wrecked, then apprehensively restored, each scene is purposeful,
meaning to echo the theme that mankind is primarily interested in looking out
for his own desires no matter how pure his intentions appear. Analysis of the
film has convinced me that the presence of the dagger is deliberate and quite
representative of the double-sided nature of humanity. Initially, the dagger is
a means of weaponry, or defending the woman. Later it is revealed just how
self-seeking the woman is, so it is appropriate that the dagger remains present
in the story even after her exit. The dagger is a fierce aggressor, used for
protection, but ultimately, used in the mix of carrying out a monstrous couple
of crimes. Later, the dagger is the means by which the audience, along with the
priest, learns the truth that the woodcutter fooled the priest and everyone
involved by pleading his own innocence. In this scene, it is disclosed that he
stole the dagger.
The
director, I believe, hinted at the idea of the perpetual guilt and evil inside
humanity from fairly early on, with the prevalent maniacal laughter in many of
the characters. This, along with the inconsistencies of each character’s story,
amplifies the viewer’s already reluctance to know each character, while further
solidifying the belief that each one is nearly crazy and not to be trusted. The
dagger in this film represents humanity. Humans are, at the most foundational
level, concerned only with the protection and preservation of self. Each man and
woman is only interested in his or her own good; worrying about anyone or
anything outside of self is of secondary importance, and quite unnatural. The
first side of the dagger, or nature of a human, is evil and must be controlled,
or it will dominate the man it inhabits. It is only with suppression of one’s selfishness
that he or she will be able to vanquish the evil side of the dagger, beginning
to see the needs of others and attempt to minister to them. If one thing is for
sure, though, it is that it takes great work and effort to suppress one’s selfishness.
The priest is right to question the intentions and morality of humanity. The
truth is that every man, like the dagger, is two-sided. One side is not to be
trusted, and the other, in need of great help.
-Taylor Gilliam
Over all this is a really solid analysis of Rashomohon. You did a great job choosing and expounding on an important theme in the movie. Man’s inclination to look out only for himself is one of the movies stronger themes. You drew excellent parallels between this theme and details in the movie. Most notably, your explanation of the dagger’s significance and its relation to human nature was insightful. I had not looked at the dagger from this perspective prior to reading your post. I can see the reasons for this connection. I also admired how you broadly applied this theme to the world when you stated “The priest is right to question the intentions and morality of humanity.” It is clear that you took the message of the movie to heart and considered it carefully.
ReplyDeleteThe post could have been stronger in some places. At times it seemed you made claims that were not fully support with evidence from the movie. Therefore, some of your broader sweeping statements became questionable. For instance, you stated: “The first side of the dagger, or nature of a human, is evil and must be controlled, or it will dominate the man it inhabits.” While this statement seems plausible, there was no example from the movie provided to support this. Perhaps you could have mentioned the criminal who shamelessly took advantage of the woman, according to all accounts. It would have been helpful to compare his character, which seemed to be overtaken by selfishness, and contrasted him with the priest who had the self-control to care for others. Over all, I enjoyed reading your perspective and feel like I understand the movie on a deeper level.
Sarah Chewning (Group 2)
Very excellent point. For the most part, I agree. You spoke of the dagger being used as a symbol for man; there is a bifurcated nature of good versus evil, and, due to the manner of our souls, evil has a tendency to gain the upper hand.
ReplyDeleteOf course, can we ever truly trust anyone? Well, I think the 1950’s film Rashomon says we can, to a degree, at least enough to not lose faith in humanity. Or if we cannot, then that does not mean that we should not still have some hope. The character of the priest cannot be discounted as an acceptable model for some people’s souls- people who see the evil in the world (possibly even in their own hearts) and choose to starve instead of indulge it. His fervent inner quest to prove man as capable of good could be interpreted as proof of good itself; and he is not disappointed. After all of the lies, the priest is comforted by the actions of the woodcutter when he decides to raise a stranger’s baby as his own. It could be argued that we don’t know what the woodcutter does with the baby. Maybe he ate it. But I don’t think that is the point of the story. The rain has stopped. Even though the woodcutter lied, he redeemed himself through good. Also, with six children, he probably could have used the money he got from the dagger.
Interpreting Kurosawa’s use of the dagger as a symbol for the human condition is certainly a point with merit. This essay is detailed and displays deep study of the film and its anthropological ramifications.
-Jacob Karnes, Group 7-