In 1950s Japan, a local magistrate (Takashi Shimura) resides over the case of Kiichi Nakajima (Toshirô Mifune), an old man who's so spooked by the prospect of nuclear fallout that he intends to sell his assets and emigrate his large family to Brazil. The family, of course, has other ideas, and seek to have their father declared insane. Though the magistrate reluctantly votes to freeze the old man's assets, he himself becomes troubled by the possibility of nuclear apocalypse. Given what had happened in Nagasaki and Hiroshima, I wouldn't be surprised if such sentiment was widespread in Japan.
Mifune, then aged just 35, is completely convincing (under copious amounts of make-up) as the aging, increasingly-paranoid patriarch. Indeed, I didn't realise it was him until I looked up the film's IMDb page. The performance itself is pure ham, not unlike something Klaus Kinski or Jack Nicholson might have conjured up, but there's such intensity in his inner anguish that he is almost painful to watch. The old man's fear of nuclear holocaust ultimately leads him to a mental institution, but Kurosawa blurs his insanity: is he crazy, or is everybody else crazy for not being scared?
One scene I found particularly touching. After the old man suffers a serious heart attack, his family gathers around to discuss money arrangements should he die. Meanwhile, the youngest daughter, perhaps the only family member who sympathises with her father's plans, leafs through a photo album. On every page, we find smiling faces, a happy family. It suddenly struck me that, until then, I'd scarcely scene a smiling face for the entire film. Perhaps more than anything, 'I Live in Fear (1955)' is about the breakup of a family, the rupture of a social unit traditionally considered invulnerable.
Mifune, then aged just 35, is completely convincing (under copious amounts of make-up) as the aging, increasingly-paranoid patriarch. Indeed, I didn't realise it was him until I looked up the film's IMDb page. The performance itself is pure ham, not unlike something Klaus Kinski or Jack Nicholson might have conjured up, but there's such intensity in his inner anguish that he is almost painful to watch. The old man's fear of nuclear holocaust ultimately leads him to a mental institution, but Kurosawa blurs his insanity: is he crazy, or is everybody else crazy for not being scared?
One scene I found particularly touching. After the old man suffers a serious heart attack, his family gathers around to discuss money arrangements should he die. Meanwhile, the youngest daughter, perhaps the only family member who sympathises with her father's plans, leafs through a photo album. On every page, we find smiling faces, a happy family. It suddenly struck me that, until then, I'd scarcely scene a smiling face for the entire film. Perhaps more than anything, 'I Live in Fear (1955)' is about the breakup of a family, the rupture of a social unit traditionally considered invulnerable.