Sanshô dayû (1954)'s activity

In Kenji Mizoguchi's Sansho the Bailiff, a governor is exiled for being too nice to the peasants, but this isn't his story. Rather, it's about his family who try to rejoin him, living at the whims of the kindness or cruelty of strangers. The cruellest is Sansho, a slave master who gets his hands on the two kids and tests their ability to follow in their merciful father's footsteps, both literally and figuratively. Human pain is contrasted by beautiful cinematography, nature that doesn't care about the drama (and indeed seems to take a hand against humanity). Is mercy a singularly human trait? The much-heralded final shot is perhaps a reflection of the audience. According to our own attitudes, we might think Mizoguchi is telling us that world is made of cruelty, or that he is being merciful to us and the characters by panning away from their pain, or both, or more. But like most films that are about enduring hardship, my investment is limited, and I'm not entirely convinced the film delivers on the quality of mercy it stresses so much, or something gets lost in translation, perhaps.