‘The Most Beautiful’: Akira Kurosawa’s propaganda film
With so many future legends of cinema rising to prominence before, during, and in the immediate aftermath of World War II, it was inevitable that many of them would be enlisted to make propaganda films. Akira Kurosawa was a somewhat different case, though, with his contributions coming at the very beginning of his career.
Frank Capra, George Stevens, John Ford, John Huston, and William Wyler were among the American directors who made either narrative or documentary propaganda movies. However, Kurosawa only had one feature under his belt – his 1943 debut, Sanshiro Sugata – before he was hand-picked by the ruling authorities to get in on the act.
The filmmaker had initially been chosen to direct an action-packed adventure about fighter pilots, but by the time pre-production began, it was looking increasingly likely that Japan would end up on the losing side of the war. Instead, Kurosawa scripted and helmed The Most Beautiful as a morale booster of sorts to shine a light on the unsung heroes of the collective national effort.
Shot in semi-documentarian style, Kurosawa filmed on location at the Nippon Kogaku factory in Hiratsuka, following a group of female volunteer workers as they go about their day. To foster that sense of community and realism, the performers lived, worked, and socialised together. It’s also where he’d meet his wife, with Yōko Yaguchi playing the character of Tsuru Watanabe, before they ended up marrying in 1945 and remaining together until her death 40 years later.
The Most Beautiful showcases the efforts of the workers to meet their production quotas, taking it upon themselves to exceed their targets in a show of collective spirit. Being a propaganda piece, they throw themselves into their job with the requisite amount of gusto, regularly espousing the fervent patriotism and desire to aid the country in any way they can.
They even make a pledge every morning to “help destroy America and Britain,” which comes across as jarring with the knowledge of what Kurosawa would go on to achieve. Of course, like his entire filmography, The Most Beautiful is a Japanese story rooted in local culture, society, and sentiment. Still, it’s nonetheless strange to see the maestro turning his hand towards such blatant jingoism. That was par for the course at the time, obviously, and it created some internal conflict.
In his autobiography – aptly titled Something Like an Autobiography – Kurosawa reflected on his propagandist days. “I offered no resistance to Japan’s militarism,” he wrote. “Unfortunately, I have to admit that I did not have the courage to resist in any positive way, and I only got by, ingratiating myself when necessary and otherwise evading censure. I am ashamed of this, but I must be honest about it.”
When he was asked to make a propaganda film, it’s not like he was in a position to say no. However, unlike many of the more blatant flag-waving examples to emerge from multiple countries during World War II, The Most Beautiful stands out by adopting many of the stylistic and thematic motifs that would remain key to Kurosawa’s output for the next four decades when he went about amassing an incomparable body of work.
