PLAGUE DIARY 15: SKY WRITES REVIEWS OF OLD BAD HOLLYWOOD MOVIES TO KEEP HIM SANE DURING THIS TIME OF HORRIFIC INSANITY

Seven Samurai (1954)
(This is not technically a bad film — in fact it is considered one of the greatest films ever made — but TCM had scheduled a day of Japanese films so I cheated and decided to watch it; it’s almost  3 and a half hours long, hence the lateness of this post.) Seven Samurai is on the face of it incredibly relevant to COVID-19. It is a classic Japanese movie that concerns residents of a small village in 1586 that must defend themselves against bandits. and thus enlist 7 Samurai to defend them. It’s in the Criterion Collection which means its a ‘classic’ film experience like Les Enfants du Paradis — all about the shots,  the framing. and the beautiful rhythm of the scenes. The only really awful thing about this film is all the men wear clearly visible fake grotesque bald caps (someone had to say it, so it might as well be me) because apparently men’s hairstyles in Japan in 1586 required a shaved cranium. The situation in the film is analogous to our own, COVID-19 has been called a war, and the virus is a kind of invader. At a crucial moment the villagers who live in 3 huts just beyond the river are asked to vacate their huts with a threat of a stiff penalty if they disobey. There is much crying and wailing until Takasha Shimura, the lead Samurai, decrees: “Three houses must be sacrificed to save 20. Is that clear? This is the nature of war. By protecting others you protect yourself. If you destroy others, you destroy yourself.” This is the screed of COVID-19. Other lines from the film also seem seem prescient of our specific situation today: “Everyone thinks the bandits won’t come. It’s a tempting thought. When you think you are safe is precisely when you are more vulnerable,” and “No one knows what the future holds.” This is precisely my own personal terror right now; and the terror of for so many; there is no certainty, I have no idea if I will get this disease or if someone close to me will, and though I am old and susceptible to COVID-19, it is really not so much the death and suffering, as the chaos and inhumanity that would face me if I became ill in any way that terrorises me. Apparently the hospitals are filled with exploited workers who fear for their own lives (that’s what TV tells us) and are are afraid to touch or talk to patients, there is not enough equipment to treat COVID-19 patents, and in fact if we are not supposed to go to the hospital if we fill ill — only if we are dying.  Our relatives will not be allowed to see us and we may die alone. This monumental uncertainty of course extends to our jobs and to our financial futures. And on TV they tell us “this may last up to two years; no one can say.” Yes, death is frightening and yes, illness very difficult. But it is a special brand of uncertainty that marks COVID-19 — as there is no end in sight and officials seem affronted when asked to provide one. In this respect Seven Samurai could be viewed as an admirable moral lesson for those who find it difficult to knuckle down and do their ‘civic duty as Canadians;’ as the Seven Samurai seems to demand stoicism in the face of uncertainty. But does it, really? After intermission one of the samurai says to a silent, brooding farmer: “I think talking is a good thing. Whatever your burden may be, talking can ease it. You for instance, seem particularly tight lipped. But if you’re suffering, you shouldn’t bottle it up. Letting out your feelings bit by bit can work wonders.” Here Kurosawa proves beyond a doubt that he is an artist. Artists are not stoics; they represent the opposite human impulse — the need to wallow in pain, in pity and fear — to wail, and rhapsodise, and beat their chests in anger, but most importantly, the need for intimate, live communion with another soul. It is perhaps no accident that in the climax of the film stoicism is vehemently denied, nay, denounced. The beautiful young samurai Isao Kimura has fallen in love with enigmatic Keiko Tsushima. For some reason he can’t seem to make love to her. Their scenes routinely take place on a lush bed of flowers that is singularly and ironically contrasted to the ugly muddy village. Isao’s reluctance infuriates the lusty Keiko who at one point exhorts him: “Coward, act like a samurai!” meaning she is lusting after consensual rape.  But at the end of the film, when the final monumental invasion of the bandits is only hours away, she throws herself on Isao saying : “Are we all going to die tomorrow?” They make love. Her father is inconsolably angry and beats her, calling her a ‘slut.’ But her behaviour is explained to him: “Don’t be angry. When the dawn threatens our lives the weight of it all makes us a bit reckless. On the eve of decisive battles this often happens, even inside castles.” The last image of the film is Isao flirting with Keiko. I know two friends who are going out for a walk today. He is diabetic and she is immune suppressed. They will wash their hands before and after and they will not hug or kiss, but will respect ‘social distance.’ The catch is, she is starting to show some of what could be symptoms of COVID-19. Am I afraid for them? I am as afraid for them as I am afraid for all of us who get up in the morning knowing that anything could happen to our lives at any time. Am I afraid for other people? I expect other people to take similar precautions against illness in this 'trying time.' Will I call the police to arrest them? Defiantly no.  Should I? Well I don’t care, because as Seven Samurai tells us -- such things happen even in (or outside) great castles; that even for the rich, and movie stars, and yoga-practicing hipster mothers -- as well as for the beaten poor with beds separated just a little more slightly in homeless shelters -- "I think talking is a good thing," and “when the dawn threatens our lives the weight of it all makes us a bit reckless.”