Throne of Blood: Noh inspirations in Akira Kurosawa’s Macbeth
Christina Goefron
Honors Shakespeare LIT 221001H
Professor Geoffrey Sadock
12 May 2015
Goefron 1
Throne of Blood is Japanese auteur Akira Kurosawa’s 1957 film based on Macbeth, and
one of few Shakespearean adaptations that is considered a masterpiece in its own right (Wells
234). Kurosawa’s unique reading of Shakespeare, which he transposed with influences of
Japanese language and the art of traditional Noh theater, reflect his broad understanding of
Western and Eastern culture and where the two converge. By weaving elements of the two, he
produced something both instantly recognizable and intrinsically foreign to theater connoisseurs
from both cultures, and thus highlights the universality of Macbeth’s themes and the cinematic
language as a whole.
Much of the film is a direct translation of the events inMacbeth, with few variations from
Shakespeare’s text; most notable is Kurosawa’s addition of Asaji’s (Lady Macbeth) pregnancy
and subsequent miscarriage. The director claimed not to have seen another adapted version until
well after making Throne of Blood, and so no other translations directly affected his version
(Cardullo 15). Along with relocating the drama into that of Japanese culture, Kurosawa also
replaces the celebrated Shakespearean language with his own stylistic film techniques. The
setting of his film is that of Sengoku Japan, a period known for constant civil military conflict
among political and social upheaval. This era is well represented in Japanese art and literature,
and specifically within the film genre of period epics, calledjidaigeki,of whichThrone of Blood
is one of many. Kurosawa felt that this setting spoke to the prevalence of events such as those
depicted in Macbeth, which reflected the bloody and feudal 11th century Scotland. When
interviewed, he said, “In this film I adapted Shakespeare’sMacbeth because, during the period of
civil wars in Japan, there are plenty of incidents like those portrayed inMacbeth. They are called
gekokujo. Therefore, the story ofMacbeth appealed very much to me, and it was easy for me to
Goefron 2
adapt” (Cardullo 64). Gekokujō refers to the act of overthrowing one’s lord or superior with
violence, and is a term synonymous with the Sengoku period in Japanese (Cardullo 64). Film
writer Donald Richie points out how these themes extend beyond mere historical reference;
“Kurosawa saw in Macbeth a contemporary issue a parallel between medieval Japan and
medieval Scotland which illuminated contemporary society; and further, a pattern which is valid
in both historical and contemporary contexts” (Cardullo 39). The contemporary context which
both Kurosawa and Richie found relatable was that of post World War II Japan, in which outside
bodies had direct authority over many aspects of daily life. This extended to the content which
Kurosawa and other Japanese filmmakers could include in their work, first by the Japanese
government during the war, and after by the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers (SCAP)
(McDonald 71). Thus, the concept of agency and free will can be said to have had a tangible
effect on the formulation and production of the film.
Kurosawa goes further, in his own words describing how the humanistic themes of
Macbeth speak to his entire oeuvre; “The images of men who lived through an age when the
weak became a prey for the strong are highly concentrated. Human beings are described with
great intensity. In this sense, I think there is something in Macbeth which is common to all other
works of mine” (Cardullo 64). This affinity for and comprehension of the themes of Shakespeare
explains why Kurosawa returned to the Bard’s texts numerous times in his career, and with
lauded reaction. Like Throne of Blood is to Macbeth, his later film Ran (1985) is a similar
exploration of King Lear in the jidaigeki genre. The Bad Sleep Well (1960) is not jidaigeki,
instead taking place in postwar urban Japan, but it is loosely based on Hamlet. Kurosawa even
includes an enacted play, in this case a piece of Noh drama, within Throne of Blood, just as
Goefron 3
Shakespeare does in Hamlet. Taking place at the beginning of the banquet scene and prefacing
the appearance of Miki’s (Banquo) ghost, it is a nod to theater’s mimetic nature and
selfawareness.
Erin Suzuki believes this insertion of a metafictive device highlights the Macbeth
struggle between destiny and freewill. “Like Claudius confronted with the Mousetrap play in
Hamlet, Washizu demands at this point that the performance be halted: however, he appears to
act not out of a sense of guilt or fear of being discovered but as if he no longer wants to watch his
own fate played out before him.” Suzuki finds this theme further illustrated by Kurosawa’s usage
of camera technique and composition. The contrasting of highly still and artificially composed
scenes (like several of those between Washizu and Asaji, taking place behind closed doors)
versus frenetic, realistic sequences (as many of the beginning scenes where Washizu appears
with Miki outdoors, and Asaji is yet to be introduced) reflects Washizu’s internal conflict over
his power as a free agent against his own darker ambitions, which pull him into a doomed cycle
of aggression and retaliation (Suzuki 101).
The role of Duncan, King of Scots, goes to the feudal Lord Tsuzuki inThrone of Blood.
As in the book, his two top generals are those of Washizu (Macbeth) and Miki (Banquo), capable
and respected samurai retainers. Washizu’s standard is that of the centipede, and reminds us of
Macbeth’s line in Act III, sc. ii; “O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!” In contrast, Miki’s
standard is that of a rabbit. The rabbit is often connected with the moon in Chinese and Japanese
folklore, due to the lunar shape known as the “rabbit in the moon.” One of the traditional
meanings for the rabbit is that of rebirth and new beginnings, something significant to the death
of Banquo in the original text and the continuation of his line via Fleance.
Goefron 4
The film heavily uses images of dense fog, and in the opening presents it to us over the
ruins of a castle. A chorus provides haunting exposition, in which they speak of a “proud
warrior” whose spirit lingers, and warn:
Behold within this mighty place,
Now desolate,
Stood a mighty fortress,
Lived a proud warrior
Murdered by ambition.
His spirit walking still….
Vain pride, then as now,
Will lead ambition to the kill.
This type of chorus is a function of Noh drama, and much like the chorus of Classical
Greek theater, it serves as omniscient narrator to the unfolding events. Kurosawa uses this chorus
in both the opening and closing of the film, reminding the spectator of both the cyclical nature of
ambition and failure, power and ruin, and to the physical confines of the medium.
Drawing the viewer’s attention to the boundaries and artificiality of an object is an
important concept in traditional Japanese art. This is especially relevant to Noh theater and its
use of masks, which are essential in the performances of all major characters. These characters
are less defined by their actions and individual characteristics as they are by their masks; masks
thus transcend the boundaries of a single drama and are used in many plays where the established
archetype may be appropriate. In Throne of Blood, Kurosawa paid special attention to the
function of Noh masks and was candid of how they influenced the film:
Goefron 5
Drama in the West takes its character from the psychology of men or circumstances; the Noh is different. First of all, the Noh has the mask, and while staring at it, the actor becomes the man whom the mask represents. The performance also has a defined style, and in devoting himself to it faithfully, the actor becomes possessed. Therefore, I showed each of the players a photograph of the mask of the Noh which came closest to the respective role; I told him that the mask was his own part. To Toshiro Mifune, who played the part of Taketoki Washizu (Macbeth), I showed the mask named Heida. This was the mask of a warrior. In the scene in which Mifune is persuaded by his wife to kill his lord, he created for me just the same lifelike expression as the mask did. To Isuzu Yamada, who acted the role of Asaji (Lady Macbeth), I showed the mask named Shakumi. This was the mask of a beauty no longer young, and represented the image of a woman about to go mad … This mask represents the state of an unearthly feeling of tension and Lady Macbeth assumes the same state … The witch in the wood was represented by the mask named Yamanba. (Cardullo 65)
Asaji also displays the most Noh physicality; her way of walking in slow, measured steps
is inherent of Noh dance. She also alternates movement with Washizu; this is another convention
of Noh dance, in which only one principal actor, or shite, moves at a time. This relationship
between Washizu and Asaji, performed in their “dance,” is a standard of Noh which reveals that
Asaji acts as merely a physical extension, orshitezure, of Washizu’s being; she reflects the dark
side of his consciousness, and while he himself moves about the room in contemplation or
disbelief, it is Asaji as his “inner demon” who counters his hesitance to kill his lord (McDonald
133137). In Shakespeare’s text, Lady Macbeth plays this same role in a much more humanistic
way; she chooses to invoke the darkness and steadfastness which she then displays to her
husband. In Kurosawa’s version, heavily influenced by Noh sensibilities, any hint of humanism
is already hidden behind her mask. She serves as an unyielding influence for Washizu toward his
darker leanings, and this onedimensionality helps to further establish her as an extension of the
worst aspects of himself.
Goefron 6
A Shakumi mask by artist Nagasawa Ujiharu
Despite this simplification of the Lady Macbeth role, Kurosawa leaves much to the
audience to speculate about in regards to her character. While seemingly tempting Washizu
against his better judgement, Asaji’s warnings of betrayal by both the Lord and Miki are never
disproven; only her revelation about Tsuzuki’s similar act of betrayal hints at the chance that her
assumptions are correct (Wells 246). Washizu, while displaying moments of hesitance, still
performs one violent deed after another, proving that despite their contrasting reactions, the
husband and wife are still inextricably intertwined in both choice and fate.
The scene of Washizu and Asaji before the act ofgekokujō is possibly the most iconic of
the film, and rich with Noh symbolism and cinematic language. Asaji places Washizu on the
lord’s dais and leaves him there in silence as she prepares the act, literally placing him upon a
stage in which he can imagine an elevated stature. In a following shot, Washizu’s servants come
to the closed screen door and inform the couple that a bloodstained room is ready to be slept in
an essential part of Asaji’s plan to assassinate Lord Tsuzuki. From here we view only Washizu’s
motionless back as Asaji turns, speaking to both Washizu and the obscured servants, and informs
Goefron 7
them that she will offer Tsuzuki’s guards the (drugged) wine. Washizu, like us, is merely a
spectator at this point, as Asaji takes control of the situation and their fates. He sits motionless,
paralyzed, as Asaji becomes the shite and moves about the room. In a beautiful composition, we
see her walk slowly into the impenetrable darkness of a doorway, only to reemerge with the
fateful jug of wine. After serving the wine to the guards and placing the spear in Washizu’s
hands, Washizu now moves off stage and we watch Asaji perform a dance of fear and concern
above the blood stains in the room. The horrifying spot is where the previous retainer of the
castle, eventually a “traitor,” had committed ritual suicide. When Washizu returns, the deed
being done, he briefly “dances” before returning to a motionless and catatonic state, at which
point Asaji picks up the movement once more. This arresting version of one of Western drama’s
greatest scenes provides an eloquent and inspired visual translation, and is among the best
examples of the versatility of Macbeth’s themes.
As per Kurosawa’s admission when describing the usage of Noh masks for the film’s
characters, the witch in the woods is a Nohinfluenced replacement for Shakespeare’s
supernatural Weird sisters and Hecate. Though the witch is played by actress Chieko Naniwa,
her deep, guttural voice aligns with the described androgyny of the original sisters; as Banquo
states in Act I, sc. iii., “you should be women / And yet your beards forbid me to interpret / That
you are so.” It is also an interesting emphasis in the context of Noh drama, which for hundred of
years did not include female actresses. Much like the barring of actresses in early English
theater, women were likewise barred from participating in the Japanese theater tradition for
“moralistic” reasons. Actors called onnagata instead specialized in the roles of female
characters. To this day, onnagata still enjoy roles in both traditional and contemporary Japanese
Goefron 8
theater, and thus this form of androgynous gender role is more familiar to Japanese audiences as
being indicative of traditional theater (McDonald 24).
Kurosawa refers to the mask of the witch as that from Yamanba, an iconic Noh play
written by prolific 14th and 15th century playwright Zeami Motokiyo. Zeami also wrote the play
Kurozuka, or “Black Mound,” in which “a party of wandering monks encounters an old woman
sitting at a spinning wheel. She sings alone how fleeting this world is and how sinful human
beings are … The old hag reveals her true identity: she is a demon living on human flesh. Behind
her hut is a pile of human remains” (McDonald 129). This description applies well to the
supernatural figure in Throne of Blood, whose cautionary song is heard by Washizu and Miki,
and behind whose hut they find mounds of armored, skeletal remains. Though the tale of
Yamanba is not familiar to Western viewers, Kurosawa’s choice of imagery is alike enough to
the folkloric, malevolent “witch” as to create an intuitive connection across audiences.
A Noh performance, with chorus seated at the far right.
Goefron 9
The fog also serves as an important visual and symbolic element in the film. It is often
present, obscuring any backdrop or setting, creating a blank and displaced setting. This can be
seen as a creative interpretation of Noh minimalism; Noh performances are purposefully sparse
of props and backdrops, the simplicity of which is said to contrast with and thus emphasize the
complexity of the art and the reactions felt by the audience (McDonald 127). The extended early
scene of Washizu and Miki riding back and forth through the fog leaves the audience with a
similar feeling of captivity and futility; all are trapped by the constructed walls, relieved only by
the grace of those in power, not least of which is Kurosawa as director.
Housed in cinematic technique, Kurosawa underlines a truth about Macbeth that is at
once timeless and universal, as well as historically poignant: that man’s struggle to control his
fate against the currents of outside force, his freedom, is an integral struggle of the human
condition. Kurosawa realized and then reimagined the concept in such a way as to reach
audiences across the globe and beyond the relevantly oppressive context of postwar Japan. By
pulling specifically from theatrical traditions, he creates an additional layer of artificiality; one
which stresses the prescribed roles which are played, the structures of drama under which they
are ruled, and the boundaries of a stage to which all players cannot transcend. This marriage of
cultures, artistic mediums, and parallel symbols is a rare and celebrated achievement, and
warrants the great amount of study it continues to inspire.
Goefron 10
Bibliography
Alba, Kenneth. “Akira Kurosawa’s nohgakuinflected adaptations of Shakespeare as a paradigm
for productive crosscultural exchange.” academia.edu, Web. December 14, 2014.
Accessed April 3, 2015.
Blissett, William. “The Secret’st Man of Blood: A Study of Dramatic Irony in Macbeth.”
Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 10, No. 3, Summer 1959.
Cardullo, Bert, ed. Akira Kurosawa: Interviews (Conversations with Filmmakers). Jackson:
University Press of Mississippi, 2008. Print.
Davies, Anthony. Shakespeare and the Moving Image: The Plays on Film and Television.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994. Print.
Goodwin, James, ed. Perspectives on Akira Kurosawa. New York: G. K. Hall, 1994. Print.
Hatchuel, Sarah. Shakespeare, from Stage to Screen. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2004. Print.
Henderson, Diana, ed. A Concise Companion to Shakespeare on Screen. Blackwell Publishing
Limited, 2006. Print.
Jin, Lei. “Silence and Sound in Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood.” Purdue University CLCWeb:
Comparative Literature and Culture, Vol. 6, No. 1, 2004.
Kurosawa, Akira, dir. Throne of Blood. Toho Company, Kurosawa Production Co., 1957. Film.
McDonald, Keiko I. Japanese Classical Theater in Films. New Jersey: Fairleigh Dickinson
University Press, 1994. Print.
Rath, Eric C. The Ethos of Noh: Actors and Their Art. Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
2004. Print.
Top Related