Last night, when I should have been packing, I decided that I should instead check out the latest DVD sent to me by those lovely people at Netflix, which was director Akira Kurosawa's Ran.
The film essentially transplants "King Lear" into the middle of samurai-era Japan. It was an excellent movie. Absolutely excellent.
All through college, I used to fall asleep in my film classes whenever they would show Kurosawa after lunch, but "Ran" kept me wide awake for its full, bloody and twisted run. And the film's primary villain, the eyebrowless Lady Kaede, was sorta deliciously evil, if that makes any sense.
Is it bizarre, though, that the main character, a king who gives up his power to his three sons only to see them all war with each other, reminded me of my own grandfather?
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