This is one of a series of notes for A Chronological Biography of Akira Kurosawa.

Eight "dreams", stories based upon dreams Kurosawa had throughout his lifetime deal with such concerns as the futility of war, the perils of nuclear power and humanity's relationship with nature. Lyrical and poignant, beautifully shot. The first story of the inari, the fox spirits is one of my favourite things by Kurosawa. Don't miss Martin Scorsese as Vincent Van Gogh.

Title: Dreams
Original Title in Japanese: Yume
Running Time: 120 min
Year: 1990
Company: Kurosawa Productions
Writer: Akira Kurosawa
Director(s) of Photography: Takao Saito, Shouji Ueda (support: Kazumi Hara)
Production Designer: Yoshiro Muraki, Akira Sakuragi
Music: Shinichiro Ikebe

Cast:
Sunshine Through the Rain: Mitsuko Baisho (Mother of "I"), Toshihiko Nakano ("I" as a Young Child). The Peach Orchard: Mitsunori Isaki ("I" as a Boy), Mie Suzuki ("I's" Sister). The Blizzard: Akira Terao ("I"), Mieko Harada (The Snow Fairy), Masayuki Yui, Shu Nakajima, Sakae Kimura (Members of the Climbing Team). The Tunnel: Akira Terao ("I"), Yoshitaka Zushi (Private Noguchi). CROWS: Akira Terao ("I"), Martin Scorsese (Vincent Van Gogh). Mt. Fuji in Red: Akira Terao ("I"), Toshie Negishi (Child-Carrying Mother), Hisashi Igawa (Power Station Worker). The Weeping Demon: Akira Terao ("I"), Chosuke Ikariya (The Demon). Village of the Watermills: Akira Terao ("I"), Chishu Ryu (103-year-old Man).

Dreams

What truths could dark shapes have scattered
And muted with smattering tears?
Lovewisps deny his absence,
Oblivious sleep draws near.

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                                      1827
                                     DREAMS
                               by Edgar Allan Poe
DREAMS

    Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
    My spirit not awakening, till the beam
    Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.
    Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
    'Twere better than the cold reality
    Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,
    And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,
    A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.
    But should it be- that dream eternally
    Continuing- as dreams have been to me
    In my young boyhood- should it thus be given,
    'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven.
    For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright
    I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light
    And loveliness,- have left my very heart
    In climes of my imagining, apart
    From mine own home, with beings that have been
    Of mine own thought- what more could I have seen?
    'Twas once- and only once- and the wild hour
    From my remembrance shall not pass- some power
    Or spell had bound me- 'twas the chilly wind
    Came o'er me in the night, and left behind
    Its image on my spirit- or the moon
    Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
    Too coldly- or the stars- howe'er it was
    That dream was as that night-wind- let it pass.

    I have been happy, tho' in a dream.
    I have been happy- and I love the theme:
    Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
    As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
    Of semblance with reality, which brings
    To the delirious eye, more lovely things
    Of Paradise and Love- and all our own!
    Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.
                                                        -THE END-

I've been thinking again. While that's usually dangerous, I've come up with an interesting thought.

Dreams are motion pictures.

Okay, before you declare me insane, put me in a strait jacket, haul me off to an asylum, and lock me in a rubber room where I'm forced to eat jello without utensils, hear me out.

Your mind is actually living two lives. In one life, you're who you believe yourself to be. You have a social security number, you pay your taxes, and you help your landlady carry out her garbage.

(Contemptuous Inhalation)

The other life is lived in a sort of studio. Throughout the day, you are gathering information that is stored within the depths of your mind. Some of it is recorded more vividly than the rest, while most is irrelevant fodder, and is discarded quickly. There are certain aspects to your day that snap into your mind that you may not be aware of, but your subconscious decides them to be excellent material for a script. Add this to your life's experiences, your hopes, your dreams, your very thoughts, and you have a wonderous canvas on which to paint.

So as you live your life during the day, your subconscious is tremendously busy. It's writing an elaborate script, pulling a cast from an infinite supply of performers, and building intricate sets that defy realism. Of course, your conscious mind is totally unaware of this process.

Until you fall asleep.

The mind is tricked. You drowse off into unconsciousness, and WHAM, you're plopped right into a scene without warning. You yourself become both character and audience in the production. While you act out your predetermined role, you are also viewing your actions and their results, observing every detail in its unrealistic splendor.

And of course, there are an innumerable amount of genre selections; Horror, Romance, Action, Adventure, Erotica. These films can be uncomfortable, arousing, exciting, or scary as hell - but since the scripts are tailored specifically for your particular level of intelligence, they're always meaningful and entertaining. And like a good film, the strong dreams are difficult to forget.

Every night is a new and unique production.