E. L. KATASONOVA

Doctor of Historical Sciences

Institute of Oriental Studies of the Russian Academy of Sciences

Keywords: Akira Kurosawa, Year of Cinema, cultural cooperation, Moscow Film Festival, Russian literature

This year-2016 - has been declared the Year of Cinema in our country. This event brings new accents to the Russian-Japanese cultural cooperation, one of the main directions of which for many years has been cinema. And this is another good reason to reflect on the role that cinema, once the most popular form of art, played and still plays in the development of mutual understanding and friendly ties between our peoples.

Soviet cinema was well known and loved in Japan, starting with the legendary paintings of S. Eisenstein, which in the 1930s were officially banned in this country, but always had a wide circulation among professionals and amateurs. The older generation of Japanese people is also well acquainted with the films of S. Gerasimov, S. Bondarchuk, N. Mikhalkov, A. Tarkovsky and others. However, in recent decades, the number of Russian films shown in Japan has sharply decreased. Suffice it to say that in 2015, the only Russian-made film "The Battle for Sevastopol"was released in Japan. And this state of affairs cannot but cause sincere concern and makes us seriously think about the reasons for what is happening, especially given the fact that while Russian cinema is losing its audience in Japan, Japanese cinema is increasingly penetrating Russian screens.

Today, Russian audiences are already well acquainted with many Japanese filmmakers and their works. Takeshi Kitano has also become a cult figure, and even the work of such rather extravagant directors as Takashi Miike and Kiyoshi Kurosawa is now known firsthand. Still, the most beloved and revered Japanese director for most Russians was and still is the legendary Akira Kurosawa (1910-1998). Perhaps this popularity is due not only to the scale of the director's figure, but also to his sincere love for Russia, for Russian culture and literature, for Russian people.

Recently, a book by screenwriter and film historian Yuichiro Nishimura "Kurosawa's Children"¹ was published in Japan, which tells about Akira Kurosawa's meetings and friendships with famous people from the world of cinema. As it turned out, Kurosawa loved and revered our Andrey Tarkovsky, talked a lot with A. Konchalovsky, with "blood in his heart" gave him his script for the filming of the film "Runaway Train", which he so wanted to shoot himself.

Getting acquainted with the memories and notes of the master himself and people who knew him well, you can't help but return to those years when the name Kurosawa was for many of us the personification of an entire era in Japanese cinema. In 1990, the director received the third Oscar in his life "for achievements that inspired, delighted and enriched cinematographers around the world." And it wasn't his first or last film award. In 1991, by decree of the President of the USSR, Kurosawa was awarded the Order of Peoples ' Friendship "for his great personal contribution to the development of cultural ties between the Soviet Union and Japan". All this is an assessment of the merits of Kurosawa at the level of countries and peoples. I would like to talk about Kurosawa from the point of view of a contemporary, for whom his paintings opened the way to learning about Japan and its centuries - old culture.

Each person has their own Kurosawa, their own perception of his work and understanding of the philosophy of his films. Many different people wrote about him, sometimes admiring the works of the great master, then reproaching him for his creative idleness. In his homeland, he was called a cosmopolitan and the most non-Japanese of Japanese directors, and in the West - a zealous follower of national traditions. But for me personally, Kurosawa is always associated with memories of the summer of 1971, when he first came to the USSR, and fate gave me the opportunity to meet this most interesting person.

It was a hot day in Moscow, and I finished three courses at the Institute of Oriental Languages at Moscow State University, where I studied Japanese and Japanese literature,

I was going to spend another student vacation in the country. But suddenly in our Moscow apartment there was a phone call from the directorate of the Moscow Film Festival. I was asked to help in a difficult situation. A. Kurosawa flew to Moscow in the evening, and a translator who was hardly found unexpectedly "fell out of the clip" for some reason and could not accompany the honorary Japanese guest either on this or in the following days.

I was first tempted to see and communicate with this great man-legend, which was important to me as a novice Japanese scholar. But its grandeur literally thrilled me and robbed me of all confidence in myself and in my command of Japanese. After all, at that time there was still no language practice behind our shoulders, and we haven't yet had a chance to communicate with living Japanese people in their native language. And here-almost a celestial. And I, fearing shame and shame, still refused such a tempting offer, which I continued to remember and regret all my life.

Today, I take comfort in the fact that my decision was correct, because communicating with a person of such a powerful artistic and philosophical disposition as Kurosawa was is not an easy task, even for experienced translators. And I was once again convinced of this by reading the memoirs of Kurosawa's co-author on the script for the film "Dersu Uzala", writer Yuri Nagibin, who describes in detail all the difficulties of cross-language communication with his Japanese colleague.

HOW KUROSAWA BECAME POPULAR IN THE USSR

During these years, the name Kurosawa was already well known in our country. Some of his films successfully passed through the Soviet screens. However, they were not always shown in central cinemas and almost every time with a noticeable delay compared to their rental in other countries. So it happened with the first picture shown by the master "Rasemon" (1950), which appeared in the Soviet box office only in 1966.

We knew very little about Japan at that time. Only occasionally melodic Japanese songs were played on the radio, short articles appeared in the newspapers about the rapid pace of development of the Japanese economy, although not without critical comments about the "ulcers of capitalism", and some" lucky " people became owners of the first Japanese transistors that mysteriously ended up in our country. The Olympic Games in Tokyo in 1964 largely fueled the interest of the Soviet people in this country and expanded their knowledge of their nearest Far Eastern neighbor. And then, in the late 1960s, the fashion for novels by the then cult Japanese writer Kobo Abe "Woman in the Sand" ("Suna no Onna", 1962) and "Alien Face" ("Tanin no Kao", 1964) broke out. His works were translated in the USSR and published in large editions: apparently, not the least role in this was played by the fact that the writer himself was a member of the Communist Party of Japan, from which, however, he left after the well-known events in Hungary.

Naturally, at this time, the film "Rasemon" became a real artistic revelation for many, after which Akira Kurosawa's long film era in the Soviet Union began. Who knows - maybe the current passion for the East is connected, including with the films of this great Japanese director? In the perception of the Soviet people, he represented almost all the Japanese cinema that was unfamiliar to us at that time. However, perhaps in recent years, its leading position has been noticeably squeezed by the ubiquitous Takeshi Kitano.

Only one of Kurosawa's compatriots, Kaneto Shindo, could argue with Kurosawa's fame in the USSR. His whole life was connected with Moscow and the Moscow Film Festival. A veteran of Japanese cinema, a rebel and leftist, Shindo, who openly sympathized with the Communists, often visited the Soviet capital. And his films not only went to a wide box office, but also received the Grand Prix of the Moscow International Film Festival three times. The first of them he received in 1961 for the film " The Naked Island "("Hadaka no Shima", 1960) - an amazing story of the life of one family on a deserted and waterless island, which was shot without a single replica. And then he became the winner of this film forum in Moscow exactly 10 years later, showing the acute social drama " Naked Nineteen-year-olds "(Hadaka no Jukusai, 1971), which was released at the box office under the title "Today - to live, to die tomorrow".

The International Film Festival awarded Shindo not only in Soviet times. In 1999, his film "Thirst for Life" ("Ikitai", 1999) - a modern interpretation of the cult "Legend of Narayama" - won the Golden Saint George and the International Federation of Film Presses FIPRESCI Award at the XXI Moscow Film Festival. But, in addition, there were also other bright works of Shindo, shown in different years as part of the competition program. This is the film "The Owl" ("Fukuro", 2003), which became a notable event of the XXV Moscow Film Festival, at the opening ceremony of which the 91-year-old master was awarded the prize "For Outstanding Contribution to World Cinema". And even in 2011, almost a century-old patriarch of Japanese cinema, a year before his anniversary, again sent a touching, largely autobiographical film "Postcard" ("Ichimai no Hagaki", 2011), which was presented by his son due to the author's illness. Shindo lived for 100 years and one month and even managed to see his image cast in bronze by the famous Russian sculptor Grigory Potocki. In honor of the upcoming 100th anniversary of the director more

during the lifetime of the master, according to the established tradition, as a three-time winner of the Moscow Film Festivals in 2011, a bust was installed in Muzeon Park, near the Central House of Artists.

Kurosawa first participated in the VII Moscow Film Festival in 1971 with his film "Under the sound of tram wheels" ("Dodeskaden", 1970), which was presented outside the competition program. In it, the director talked about the dying and the dead-about drunks, drug addicts and all the destitute, about human vices and cruelty of life. This was the first film to be made by the independent film company Four Horsemen, created in 1969 with the money of Kurosawa himself and his three friends-the excellent directors Teinosuke Kinugasa, Kon Ichikawa and Masaki Kobayashi.

LOST HOPES AND A DREAM COME TRUE

Kurosawa at that time was experiencing far from happy days after a long creative downtime and several years of creative failures that befell him abroad. The fact is that the director has long been looking for an opportunity to make a film based on his script "Runaway Train". The plot of the film was built around a real incident that happened at one of the marshalling yards in New York State, where an uncontrolled train suddenly started moving, which caused a series of unpredictable events. And Hollywood quickly responded to this idea, inviting the director to the United States, and in June 1966 it was already announced that filming of this picture would begin in collaboration with the Abco Embassy Pro film company. But the partners did not come to an agreement: the Americans sought to make an entertaining box office movie with bed scenes and other attributes of a fast-paced action movie. Kurosawa also planned not only to shoot an action film in its purest form, but also a philosophical parable about the fate of human civilization. And the master refused to go along with his employers. It so happened that this film happened to be shot according to a revised script by the Soviet director A. Konchalovsky, who lived and shot in the West in those years. The film received positive press responses and was even presented for the Oscar in several categories at once. But this was a different film - not the one that the Japanese master had once conceived. And this deeply upset him.

Later, in 1967, Kurosawa once again tried his cinematic fortune in America, agreeing to the offer of the studio "XX Century-Fox" to put "Japanese episodes" about the attack of Japanese aircraft on Pearl Harbor in December 1941 and subsequent events. The film was called in Japanese: "Tora! The Torah! Torah!". The director from the American side was supposed to be Kurosawa's friend David Lin. But after signing the contract, the Japanese master was faced with a one-sided interpretation of the past events by the Americans, which hurt his national pride, and a strict system of regulation, which is detailed in this document. Literally everything was stipulated, up to the amount of alcohol that he had the right to consume per day. A detailed report was required for each point of filming. And most importantly, the filming of the American episodes of the film was entrusted to a different director than previously agreed. The situation was becoming increasingly unpleasant. Kurosawa was struggling, nervous, and protesting. Taking advantage of this, the Americans accused him of a mental disorder, and he had no choice but to pay the contract penalty and return to his homeland.

But on the way, he decided to stop by Paris, because he received an offer from the banks of the Seine to make a film in France. Here they did not impose any strict contract conditions or ideological concepts on him, but they demanded one thing-more love and bed scenes on the screen, probably what Nagisa Oshima later shot in his " Empire of Feelings "(Aino-Korida, 1976). And Kurosawa, a man of rare chastity, once again abandoned another foreign project and fled France. He returned to his homeland and spent the next few years practically without work, which led him to a prolonged creative and psychological crisis. And then he jumped at the salutary idea of starting over and starting his own studio again, hoping that this time it would certainly give him the long-awaited creative freedom and financial independence. But the calculation turned out to be wrong: the Japanese audience was much more willing to go to James Bond or the vampire Dracula than to domestic films about social troubles and moral conflicts, which so worried the director.

The film" Under the sound of tram wheels " became the first color film in Kurosawa's filmography (it was released in black and white and shortened by 40 minutes at the box office). Today it would be called low-budget: it was shot literally in a matter of weeks in a city dump with almost no scenery in record time and without famous actors, but this did not save its creators from complete commercial failure: In Japan, the film was watched by a little more than 1 thousand viewers. And soon the great director, paying off his debts, lost everything: the last savings, the house, and the studio, but most importantly-the opportunity to create his own films, and without art he could not live.

And then there was another unexpected event - Kurosawa was invited to the Moscow Film Festival. And now, in the seventh decade of his life, he visited our country for the first time. I learned from the newspapers that he arrived in Moscow tired and sad, and immediately after leaving the airfield, he asked to be taken not to a hotel, but to the forest. And the Berezovaya ro near Moscow-

lessa generously gifted him with her beauty and even pleased him with a gift - a small strong white mushroom. He plucked a mushroom and held it up to his face, either to feel the aroma of the Russian forest more keenly, or to respectfully touch the strange but beautiful nature that he knew so well from literature and often imagined in his imagination, but saw firsthand for the first time. The next day, he met with our directors, actors, and film critics, with whom he has maintained friendly and creative contacts ever since.

At the film festival, Kurosawa was surrounded by a lot of attention from the public and the press, although he kept his distance from everyone, which affected his closed nature, and, possibly, the language barrier. The picture he brought was very warmly received and even won the prize of the Union of Cinematographers. This time, he had a great creative success-an offer of cooperation received from the then director of Mosfilm, I. A. Serov, who greatly favored the Japanese director.

In the 1970s, the USSR took a course of detente, and many cultural figures, especially such famous ones as Kurosawa, sought to involve in the orbit of cultural contacts with our country. But the master himself never hid his attraction to everything Russian-culture, nature, people, and once at the dawn of his youth, to communist ideas too. And by that time he already had several brilliant film adaptations of Russian classics on his creative account, and the most successful of them was the picture "Idiot" ("Hakuchi", 1951) based on the novel by F. M. Dostoevsky.

KUROSAWA AND RUSSIAN CLASSICS

Kurosawa has repeatedly spoken about his love for Dostoevsky, for the image of Prince Myshkin, for the theme of forgiveness and compassion. "From an early age, I not only fell in love with Russian literature, but I realized that Dostoevsky was the best, and I thought for a long time about how to make a wonderful film out of this book. Dostoevsky is still my favorite writer, and he is the only one - in my opinion-who has written truthfully about human existence, " Kurosawa ² said.

"My views and psychology are similar to the views and psychology of the hero of The Idiot," the director wrote. "Maybe that's why I love Dostoevsky so much. No one writes like him about a person's life. I appreciate my film as much as I managed to convey the spirit of Dostoevsky. Japanese people grow up listening to Russian classics, and I started my education with them. I grew into it so much that it was reflected in my work."³. It seems that Kurosawa worked on the film "Idiot" as a writer on a novel: he raised disturbing questions from the Russian consciousness and projected them on hungry post-war Japan. That's why the director brought the events described by Dostoevsky to Japanese soil, to the snow-covered island of Hokkaido, so similar to Russia, gave the characters Japanese names and made them speak Japanese. At the same time, the spirit of the Russian original is very noticeable literally in everything: then the melody of "Amur Waves" will blow, then Dostoevsky's text will sound. And this director's move seems quite logical, since a costume drama from the life of Japan in the XIX century would be of little interest to the general audience, as well as the detailed realities of everyday life and customs of pre-revolutionary Russia.

Perhaps the most impressive thing about the film is its picturesque and gloomy atmosphere: dark, squat Japanese houses, cramped, stingy and depressing apartment interiors, which conveys the suffocating psychological mood of Dostoevsky's works. Kurosawa's production provides an excellent opportunity to take a fresh look at the long-familiar and seemingly frozen classic plot. Kurosawa immerses his main character Kameda (Prince Myshkin), played by Masayuki Mori , a Japanese with an enlightened look and a European face, in a depressing situation in a country that lost the war and survived the tragedy of nuclear bombing. Unlike his prototype, Prince Myshkin, Kameda did not sit in a madhouse, but went mad in a prisoner-of-war camp, getting on the execution lists and narrowly escaping death (again, a parallel with the fate of Dostoevsky). He learned to appreciate and endlessly love life in all its manifestations, and he developed a deep sense of compassion for all living things.

The brightest role, as always, is played by the actor Toshiro Mifune, however, his Rogozhin bears the Japanese name Akami in the film. "I saw Rogozhin's eyes on the screen - furious, burning, red-hot coals-exactly as Dostoevsky wrote them," ⁴ noted the outstanding Soviet film director Georgy Kozintsev. And here followed his artistic verdict: "The Idiot has become "a miracle of turning classics into movies." "Dostoevsky's pages have come to life, words-the most subtle definitions-have materialized." ⁵

Kurosawa turned to the film adaptation of the novel "Idiot" much earlier than the Soviet cinematographers, and, apparently, he managed to reveal the abyss of meanings of his favorite writer much more accurately and completely than even the domestic masters of cinematography. Let me remind you that the classic of Soviet cinema I. Pyryev began shooting his picture only in 1958 and, I think, not without a desire to give revenge to the brave Japanese, but clearly lost this artistic competition to him. And the last film version of the novel, created by V. Bortko, was released in 2003. And they say that V. Bortko learned a lot from Kurosawa - the Japanese director reinterpreted the novel so modernly almost half a century before him. Even the most academically pedantic Russian literary critics are specialists-

Experts on Dostoevsky's work recognize the unprecedented authenticity of Kurosavsky's "Idiot".

After" The Idiot " Kurosawa makes the film "Live" ("Ikiru", 1952) based on the novel by Leo Tolstoy "The Death of Ivan Ilyich", which is recognized as one of the most subtle adaptations of the writer's books. And then, in 1957, he took up the novel by A.M. Gorky "At the bottom" ("Donjoku"). "I had long planned to make a film adaptation of Gorky's play," Kurosawa admitted, " I thought to create a light and entertaining picture out of it. After all," At the Bottom " is not a dark play at all. I remember laughing a lot when I read it. This is probably due to the fact that we are shown people who are eager to live, and, I think, they are shown with humor."⁶. And yet, having caught the slightly laid-down comedy in the play, which Gorky himself once mentioned in passing, Kurosawa put on not a comedy tape at all, however, interpreting it in a rather unusual way for us. At the same time, his new interpretation of the novel caused heated controversy among critics, who received his new film in different ways. According to the well-known American expert on Japanese cinema, Donald Ritchie, "Kurosawa put the film not in a tragic, but in a much more ironic intonation, giving a satirical touch to the social drama." ⁷ Perhaps for this reason, according to the Russian film critic Yu. Gens, "the screen is not a Gorky play... The Russian play is an occasion to examine the Japanese characters of people living in Japan in the middle of the last century"⁸. And Japanese film critic Akira Iwasaki simply stated that for all Kurosawa's skill, "the film looks like a foreign plant torn from its native soil and transplanted into a tight pot." ⁹

Perhaps these judgments are controversial, but still Gorky turned out to be only one of the pages in Kurosawa's filmography, while Dostoevsky was always present in his work. From the first steps in art, Kurosawa's works were influenced by the emotional world of the Russian writer. The director himself called his early films - "Drunk Angel" (Eidore Tenshi, 1948) and "Live" - "films in the manner of Dostoevsky". Critics also found Dostoevsky's influence in the film " Scandal "(Syubun, 1950). After the film adaptation of the novel "Idiot" Kurosawa again turned to Dostoevsky in 1964, transferring the spirit of his novel "Humiliated and insulted" to the film adaptation of the work of the Japanese writer Yamamoto Shugoro "Red Beard" ("Akahige", 1965). "Although the film' Red Beard ' is an adaptation of a Japanese novel, it is probably one of the most heartfelt embodiments of Dostoevsky in cinema," says Russian researcher I. Y. Gens ¹⁰. Kurosawa himself noted the special place of this film in his filmography, believing that after it he would make completely different films. And so it happened.

WORK IN THE USSR

In Moscow, during the festival days of 1971, Kurosawa was offered to make his own author's film in the USSR based on one of the works of Russian or Soviet writers. Moreover, the creative choice remained in everything for him, while the financing of the picture and all the technical support for filming was taken over by the Soviet side. For a moment, Kurosawa couldn't believe what was happening. But along with doubts in his soul, he began to hope for the fulfillment of his long-standing dream: for more than thirty years, he nurtured the idea of putting on a film based on the wonderful book by the Russian travel writer, explorer of the Ussuri region Vladimir Arsenyev. Still, he took the time to think, which lasted for a whole year. He returned to his homeland, and then the worst thing happened - a suicide attempt, however, ended in a miraculous rescue, after which in 1972 he went to the USSR to shoot a movie.

Forgotten today, travel writer Vladimir Arsenyev was once the author of almost the most popular children's books about adventures in the Far Eastern taiga, about encounters with wild animals, etc. Arsenyev was read not only in the USSR. It was translated even in Japan, and one of the admirers of the Russian author was Kurosawa. He read Arsenyev back in the late 1940s and even then he was eager to make a film based on his prose, and at first he wanted to play out the plot, as usual, on the northern island of Hokkaido, where he filmed dramatizations of works by Russian writers. However, now he did not shoot Russian life on a Japanese island: neither the vast Russian expanses, nor the richness of colors of the wild nature were enough. He needed the natural world that Arsenyev described in his two books "On the Ussuri Region "(1921) and "Dersu Uzala" (1923).

These books formed the basis for the script of the film" Dersu Uzala "("Derusu Uzara", 1975), which stands out in Kurosawa's extensive filmography and not only because it is the first picture of the director, shot not in his native Japanese language. This film was awarded the Gold Prize of the IX Moscow Film Festival in 1975, and in 1976 received the American "Oscar" in the category best foreign film, representing two countries at once-the Soviet Union and Japan. A large film crew of Soviet cinematographers, consisting of more than 100 people, took part in its creation: the co-author of the script was the famous Soviet writer Yuri Nagibin, the second director was V. Vasiliev, and others. And for the main roles, the master himself approved two actors: Tuvinian Maxim Manzuk, who excellently played Der-

su Uzal, and the popular actor Yuri Solomin, who embodied the image of V. Arsenyev on the screen.

The creation of the film, including a complex and lengthy preparatory period, which began with the writing and approval of the script, the selection of actors, took a total of about two years. The filming itself lasted for eight months, which the participants then recalled with great warmth and nostalgia. They recalled how they lived in tents without electricity, how they shot seven days a week from early morning to late evening, how long they could not find an actor for the main role instead of the legendary Toshiro Mifune, a long-term friend and colleague of Kurosawa, who refused to go to the USSR at the last moment due to some circumstances of his own. But, above all, everyone remembers how uncompromising and demanding, and at the same time touching and attentive Kurosawa was. In 2010, V. Vasiliev and Y. Solomin published the book "The Emperor of Japanese Cinema", which was based on diary entries, as well as the most vivid impressions of this joint work and personal communication with an outstanding Japanese director. It is said that the director himself was also extremely happy to work with the Soviet film crew and was even preparing to make his next film based on Poe's works "The Mask of the Red Death", planning to invite Y. Solomin for the main role, and as a composer - his beloved I. Schwartz, who wrote the music for "Dersu Uzala". However, this project was never implemented, either because of some bureaucratic delays of officials, or because of changes in the political firmament.

CONTACTS WITH RUSSIA WERE NOT INTERRUPTED

During the filming of his film, Kurosawa met with prominent Soviet cinematographers: G. Kozintsev, S. Gerasimov, A. Tarkovsky and many others, and personal contacts with some of them continued until the last days of his life. Kurosawa always spoke with special love about Andrei Tarkovsky: "He's like a little brother to me!"¹¹. When the two directors met at the Moscow House of Cinema, Tarkovsky sang the theme of the warriors from "Seven Samurai", because, as he said, working on "Andrey Rublev", each time before shooting he looked at the masterpiece of the Japanese director. For his part, Kurosawa has always followed the work of his Russian colleague with great interest. "I love all of Tarkovsky's films," said the Japanese master, " and I love both his concept of human life and his concept of cinema. However, I almost always disagree with what he did in the end! Tarkovsky is a poet, but I am not. " ¹²

And another important episode in the history of the relationship between two great directors, as researcher Yuichiro Nishimura writes. Kurosawa himself spoke about how he once flew to France while Tarkovsky was in a Paris hospital. "I didn't have time to visit, not at all," the great Japanese lamented incessantly. "All I could do was send him flowers... This was my last chance to see a friend. I'll never forgive myself for those flowers. " ¹³

Kurosawa also had a long friendship with Yu. By Solomin. On the eve of the New Year's holiday, he sent a touching greeting card with his drawing to the Moscow address of the Russian actor every year, and this continued until the last days of his life. And when Y. Solomin came to Japan on tour with the Maly Theater, or with other opportunities, they always met and talked about life, work, and new creative plans. On one of these visits, Solomin, who was then appointed artistic director of the Maly Theater, made a special trip to Kyoto, where Kurosawa was in those days. Not only did he want to see the master again, but he was also in a hurry to make him a tempting offer -to put on a performance based on Russian classics on the oldest Moscow stage. Kurosawa took the idea with great joy and enthusiasm. After all, he was going to work for a long time. No wonder one of his later paintings is called "Not yet!" (Madadae, 1992). These are the hero's words addressed to his death, which stood on his doorstep. Kurosawa also did not think about death, but was preparing to come back to us - to the new Russia. But soon he fell seriously ill, and a year later, in 1998, the world said goodbye to him forever.

Such was this amazing man - a great Japanese director with a trembling Russian soul.

^{Yuichiro Nishimura.} 1 The Kurosawa children ("Kurosawa Chir Doren"). Tokyo, 2010.

² www.2do2go/msk/events/8036/film-idiot=akiry-kurosavy-po-odnoimennomu-romanu-fm-dos toevskogo

³ Ibid.

^{Shuvalov A.} 4 Akira Kurosawa. Identification of a humanist Samurai (dedicated to the 100th anniversary of his birth)- snimifilm.com/intervju-kurosava-identifikatsiya-samuraya-gumanista-k-stoletiyu-so-dnya-ro zhdeniya

⁵ Ibid.

^{Richie D.} 6 The Films of Akira Kurosawa. First Edition. Tokyo, 1958. P. 11.

^{Richie D.} 7 The Films of Akira Kurosawa. Third Edition. Berkley, Los Angeles, London. 1998. P. 125 - 133.

^{Gens I. Yu} 8 Russkaya klassika v tvorchestve Kurosava [Russian classics in Kurosawa's work]. 2005. N 75. P. 209.

^{Iwasaki A.} 9 Sovremennoe yaponskoe kino [Modern Japanese Cinema], Moscow, 1962, p. 358.

^{Gens I. Y.} 10 Decree. Op. p. 211.

^{Yuichiro Nishimura.} 11 Edict. op. p. 73.

¹² Ibid.

¹³ Ibid.

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