I had said two weeks ago, in a review of Scandal, that Eclipse's new Kurosawa box set could just as easily be called Lesser Kurosawa. That's not fair. I know there are those who champion The Idiot and No Regrets for Our Youth, and even the one film I had previously seen from the set, I Live in Fear, is quite good (though it's hard to argue with it being a lesser film is such an outstanding oeuvre). The truth was, I was hoping very much to find some lesser-known Kurosawa classics. Which brings us to One Wonderful Sunday. Judging solely by IMDb's votes, it's Kurosawa's third least seen movie. And it ranks #26 out of 30 when listed by ratings. Well, I'll be happy to act like I was the first who discovered this hidden gem in Kurosawa's catalogue. This really is a wonderful little film. Influenced very much by Vittorio de Sica, one of Kurosawa's favorite directors, One Wonderful Sunday follows two young lovers, Yuzo and Masako (Isao Numasaki and Chieko Nakakita), spending the titular day together with nothing but ¥35 between them. The two experience sadness and hardship as they go about their date. The structure is episodic, as the lovers experience odd vignettes, meeting various post-war types, like bums and orphans and ticket scalpers. The two try to be happy with each other's company, but Yuzo's poverty makes him feel like less of a man. In one of the strongest sequences in Kurosawa's career, Yuzo decides to act like a cad to drive Masako away. Kurosawa was hardly ever the subtle type, and he is not known for long periods of silence or long takes. This sequence demonstrates a different side of the director. The climax of the film involves an odd breaking of the fourth wall resembling the device in J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan. As far as I know, this is the only time Kurosawa ever attempted such a thing. That wouldn't be too surprising, though, as film audiences rarely interact with characters on screen. It's just too out there for the medium. But God bless Kurosawa for trying it. It's kind of schmaltzy, but I loved the characters so much that at least I thought about clapping for them. A forgotten near-masterpiece.
