Akira Kurosawa consistently paints beautiful war scenes in such movies as Kagamusha and Ran. His colorful imagery is also evident in Dreams. Even though no one does epic battle scenes as artistically as Kurosawa, I actually prefer his more intimate black and white dramas like Ikuru and High and Low (Tengoku to jigoku) .

While these movies don't contain the wide vistas or the action content of Kurosawa's most famous films, the hero still confronts a moral dilemma and invokes his internal code to resolve the situation. High and Low essentially intertwines two stories--businessman Gondo's story followed by the police investigation and tracking of the kidnapper--to expertly weave a police tale with social commentary while remaining a character study above all.

Longtime Kurosawa mainstay Toshirô Mifune (Yojimbo, Rashomon, Seven Samurai, and others) effectively plays Gondo. The ensemble cast is outstanding as well and helps the film work. Especially notable is Tatsuya Nakadai, who must carry the second half of the film.

The first half takes place mostly in Gondo's apartment, opening with a meeting with business associates from National Shoe Company, who plan a coup of the company because the founder has fallen behind the times in style and profitability. Gondo wants no part of their scheme due to his own sense of honor, rejecting their stylish cardboard-based shoes quite dramatically--ripping their cheap glued-together models to shreds. He insists that the company must remain respectable and can only maintain its success by continuing to produce high quality shoes though he does agree that they have to get away from the "army boot" style that is no longer marketable.

This is only one scene that reveals Gondo's business ethics and shows that the man truly loves his lifelong craft of making quality shoes. Watch for another poignant scene on the streets where the veteran businessman gazes at a storefront window of shoes.

The business associates leave disappointed and angry; Gondo has displayed his contempt and disrespect for them by not even showing them out the door--an act that shocks Gondo's wife Reiko (Kyôko Kagawa). Gondo has his own plan for a coup, and has mortgaged everything he has to arrange for a business deal. Lest you think this another Shakespearean Throne of Blood adaptation, Reiko is no Lady MacBeth. She will plead with her husband to re-arrange his priorities: "What good is success if you lose your humanity?"

Gondo's values are soon put to the test, as a kidnapper calls and demands 30 million yen to regain their son. Even though the ransom will ruin Gondo';s business deal, he instantly agrees until he finds that the kidnapper has mistaken Gondo's son and has kidnapped chauffeur Aoki's only son instead. No longer fearful for his son's death, Gondo contacts the police, but the kidnapper continues to demand a ransom in spite of realizing his mistake.

So, now Gondo must choose. Will it be the logical business choice, or will Gondo sacrifice his future to maintain his humanity? Even a temporary "loan" of the ransom money will ruin Gondo financially, and Kurosawa presents numerous dramatic scenes to illustrate the social and moral issues at stake here.

Even though the second half (led by the dedicated and sensitive detective Tatsuya Nakadai) gives more police forensics procedures than many viewers will want to see, I enjoyed these details. Perhaps being robbed a few times helps me relate to the situation, but the thoroughness of the Japanese detectives is impressive. We could use such thoroughness in the states.

As with any of Kurosawa's films, his camera communicates the story and illuminates issues visually. Gondo's house stands above the industrial slums, yet his picture window allows him to look over the poverty stricken just as the poorer people may be able to glimpse inside his relative wealth. This same social contrast is further explored with the way that the chauffeur and detectives interact with Gondo, and vice versa. Lessons are contained, yet Kurosawa doesn't hammer us with a sermon--he takes the time to allow us inside the main characters. Hollywood directors could learn some lessons here too if they weren't so concerned with creating superficial films for multiplex profits.

A couple of quibbles about High and Low are minor when considering the whole film. The initial phone call from the kidnapper seems rather theatrically staged and not very realistic, but it would be a mistake to show us the identity of the kidnapper at this point. Additionally, the coda at the end of the film between Gondo and the kidnapper seems tacked on and unnecessary despite revealing the official significance of the English title "High and Low."

I prefer the multiple meanings that can be discerned, but a few will find relief with the simple explanation offered. Not everyone is into ambiguity. Still, High and Low is one of Kurosawa's best films and holds up nearly 40 years since its creation. Just don't expect any massive battle scenes or lots of physical action. Kurosawa shows some early glimpses of Japanese low-life drug and prostitution, but internal character battles highlight the film.