THE BEGGAR AND THE KING a play in one-act by Winthrop Parkhurst

The following one-act play is reprinted from The Atlantic Book of Modern Plays. Ed. Sterling Andrus Leonard. Boston: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1921. It is now in the public domain and may therefore be performed without royalties. CHARACTERS THE KING OF A GREAT COUNTRY HIS SERVANT A BEGGAR [A chamber in the palace overlooks a courtyard. The season is midsummer. The windows of the palace are open, and from a distance there comes the sound of a man's voice crying for bread.] [THE KING sits in a golden chair. A golden crown is on his head, and he holds in his hand a sceptre which is also of gold. A SERVANT stands by his side, fanning him with an enormous fan of peacock feathers.] THE BEGGAR: (outside) Bread. Bread. Bread. Give me some bread. THE KING: (languidly) Who is that crying in the street for bread? THE SERVANT: (fanning) O king, it is a beggar. THE KING: Why does he cry for bread? THE SERVANT: O king, he cries for bread in order that he may fill his belly. THE KING: I do not like the sound of his voice. It annoys me very much. Send him away. THE SERVANT: (bowing) O king, he has been sent away. THE KING: If that is so, then why do I hear his voice? THE SERVANT: O king, he has been sent away many times, yet each time that he is sent away he returns again, crying louder than he did before. THE KING: He is very unwise to annoy me on such a warm day. He must be punished for his impudence. Use the lash on him. THE SERVANT: O king, it has been done. THE KING: Then bring out the spears. THE SERVANT: O king, the guards have already bloodied their swords many times driving him away from the palace gates. But it is of no avail. THE KING: Then bind him and gag him if necessary. If need be cut out his tongue. I do not like the sound of the fellow's voice. It annoys me very much. THE SERVANT: O king, thy orders were obeyed even yesterday. THE KING: (frowning) No. That cannot be. A beggar cannot cry for bread who has no tongue. THE SERVANT: Behold he can--if he has grown another. THE KING: What! Why, men are not given more than one tongue in a lifetime. To have more than one tongue is treason. THE SERVANT: If it is treason to have more than one tongue, O king, then is this beggar surely guilty of treason. THE KING: (pompously) The punishment for treason is death. See to it that the fellow is slain. And do not fan me so languidly. I am very warm. THE SERVANT: (fanning more rapidly) Behold, O great and illustrious king, all thy commands were obeyed even yesterday. THE KING: How! Do not jest with thy king. THE SERVANT: If I jest, then there is truth in a jest. Even yesterday, O king, as I have told thee, the beggar which thou now hearest crying aloud in the street was slain by thy soldiers with a sword. THE KING: Do ghosts eat bread? Forsooth, men who have been slain with a sword do not go about in the streets crying for a piece of bread. THE SERVANT: Forsooth, they do if they are fashioned as this beggar. THE KING: Why, he is but a man. Surely he cannot have more than one life in a lifetime. THE SERVANT: Listen to a tale, O king, which happened yesterday. THE KING: I am listening. THE SERVANT: Thy soldiers smote this beggar for crying aloud in the streets for bread, but his wounds are already healed. They cut out his tongue, but he immediately grew another. They slew him, yet he is now alive. THE KING: Ah! that is a tale which I cannot understand at all. THE SERVANT: O king, it may be well. THE KING: I cannot understand what thou sayest, either. THE SERVANT: O king, that may be well also. THE KING: Thou art speaking now in riddles. I do not like riddles. They confuse my brain. THE SERVANT: Behold, O king, if I speak in riddles it is because a riddle has come to pass. [THE BEGGAR'S voice suddenly cries out loudly.] THE BEGGAR: (outside) Bread. Bread. Give me some bread. THE KING: Ah! He is crying out again. His voice seems to me louder than it was before. THE SERVANT: Hunger is as food to the lungs, O king. THE KING: His lungs I will wager are well fed. Ha, ha! THE SERVANT: But alas! his stomach is quite empty. THE KING: That is not my business. THE SERVANT: Should I not perhaps fling him a crust from the window? THE KING: No! To feed a beggar is always foolish. Every crumb that is given to a beggar is an evil seed from which springs another fellow like him. THE BEGGAR: (outside) Bread. Bread. Give me some bread. THE SERVANT: He seems very hungry, O king. THE KING: Yes. So I should judge. THE SERVANT: If thou wilt not let me fling, him a piece of bread thine ears must pay the debts of thy hand. THE KING: A king can have no debts. THE SERVANT: That is true, O king. Even so, the noise of this fellow's begging must annoy thee greatly. THE KING: It does. THE SERVANT: Doubtless he craves only a small crust from thy table and he would be content. THE KING: Yea, doubtless he craves only to be a king and he would be very happy indeed. THE SERVANT: Do not be hard, O king. Thou art ever wise and just. This fellow is exceedingly hungry. Dost thou not command me to fling him just one small crust from the window? THE KING: My commands I have already given thee. See that the beggar is driven away. THE SERVANT: But alas! O king, if he is driven away he will return again even as he did before. THE KING: Then see to it that he is slain. I cannot be annoyed with the sound of his voice. THE SERVANT: But alas! O great and illustrious king, if he is slain he will come to life again even as he did before. THE KING: Ah! that is true. But his voice troubles me. I do not like to hear it. THE SERVANT: His lungs are fattened with hunger. Of a truth they are quite strong. THE KING: Well, propose a remedy to weaken them. THE SERVANT: A remedy, O king? [He stops fanning.] THE KING: That is what I said. A remedy--and do not stop fanning me. I am exceedingly warm. THE SERVANT: (fanning vigorously) A crust of bread, O king, dropped from yonder window--forsooth that might prove a remedy. THE KING: (angrily) I have said I will not give him a crust of bread. If I gave him a crust to-day he would be just as hungry again to-morrow, and my troubles would be as great as before. THE SERVANT: That is true, O king. Thy mind is surely filled with great learning. THE KING: Therefore, some other remedy must be found. THE SERVANT: O king, the words of thy illustrious mouth are as very meat-balls of wisdom. THE KING: (musing) Now let me consider. Thou sayest he does not suffer pain-- THE SERVANT: Therefore he cannot be tortured. THE KING: And he will not die-- THE SERVANT: Therefore it is useless to kill him. THE KING: Now let me consider. I must think of some other way. THE SERVANT: Perhaps a small crust of bread, O king-- THE KING: Ha! I have it. I have it. I myself will order him to stop. THE SERVANT: (horrified) O king! THE KING: Send the beggar here. THE SERVANT: O king! THE KING: Ha! I rather fancy the fellow will stop his noise when the king commands him to. Ha, ha, ha! THE SERVANT: O king, thou wilt not have a beggar brought into thy royal chamber! THE KING: (pleased with his idea) Yea. Go outside and tell this fellow that the king desires his presence. THE SERVANT: O great and illustrious king, thou wilt surely not do this thing. Thou wilt surely not soil thy royal eyes by looking on such a filthy creature. Thou wilt surely not contaminate thy lips by speaking to a common beggar who cries aloud in the streets for bread. THE KING: My ears have been soiled too much already. Therefore go now and do as I have commanded thee. THE SERVANT: O great and illustrious king, thou wilt surely not-- THE KING: (roaring at him) I said, Go! (THE SERVANT, abashed, goes out.) Forsooth, I fancy the fellow will stop his bawling when I order him to. Forsooth, I fancy he will be pretty well frightened when he hears that the king desires his presence. Ha, ha, ha, ha! THE SERVANT: (returning) O king, here is the beggar. [A shambling creature hung in filthy rags follows THE SERVANT slowly into the royal chamber.] THE KING: Ha! A magnificent sight, to be sure. Art thou the beggar who has been crying aloud in the streets for bread? THE BEGGAR: (in a faint voice, after a slight pause) Art thou the king? THE KING: I am the king. THE SERVANT: (aside to THE BEGGAR) It is not proper for a beggar to ask a question of a king. Speak only as thou art spoken to. THE KING: (to THE SERVANT) Do thou likewise. (To THE BEGGAR) I have ordered thee here to speak to thee concerning a very grave matter. Thou art the beggar, I understand, who often cries aloud in the streets for bread. Now, the complaint of thy voice annoys me greatly. Therefore, do not beg any more. THE BEGGAR: (faintly) I--I do not understand. THE KING: I said, do not beg any more. THE BEGGAR: I--I do not understand. THE SERVANT: (aside to THE BEGGAR) The king has commanded thee not to beg for bread any more. The noise of thy voice is as garbage in his ears. THE KING: (to THE SERVANT) Ha! An excellent flower of speech. Pin it in thy buttonhole. (To THE BEGGAR) Thine ears, I see, are in need of a bath even more than thy body. I said, Do not beg any more. THE BEGGAR: I--I do not understand. THE KING: (making a trumpet of his hands and shouting). DO NOT BEG ANY MORE. THE BEGGAR: I--I do not understand. THE KING: Heavens! He is deafer than a stone wall. THE SERVANT: O king, he cannot be deaf, for he understood me quite easily when I spoke to him in the street. THE KING: (to THE BEGGAR) Art thou deaf? Canst thou hear what I am saying to thee now? THE BEGGAR: Alas! I can hear every word perfectly. THE KING: Fft! The impudence. Thy tongue shall be cut out for this. THE SERVANT: O king, to cut out his tongue is useless, for he will grow another. THE KING: No matter. It shall be cut out anyway. (To THE BEGGAR) I have ordered thee not to beg any more in the streets. What meanest thou by saying thou dost not understand? THE BEGGAR: The words of thy mouth I can hear perfectly. But their noise is only a foolish tinkling in my ears. THE KING: Fft! Only a--! A lash will tinkle thy hide for thee if thou dost not cure thy tongue of impudence. I, thy king, have ordered thee not to beg any more in the streets for bread. Signify, therefore, that thou wilt obey the orders of thy king by quickly touching thy forehead thrice to the floor. THE BEGGAR: That is impossible. THE SERVANT: (aside to THE BEGGAR) Come. It is not safe to tempt the patience of the king too long. His patience is truly great, but he loses it most wondrous quickly. THE KING: Come, now: I have ordered thee to touch thy forehead to the floor. THE SERVANT: (nudging him) And quickly. THE BEGGAR: Wherefore should I touch my forehead to the floor? THE KING: In order to seal thy promise to thy king. THE BEGGAR: But I have made no promise. Neither have I any king. THE KING: Ho! He has made no promise. Neither has he any king. Ha, ha, ha. I have commanded thee not to beg any more, for the sound of thy voice is grievous unto my ears. Touch thy forehead now to the floor, as I have commanded thee, and thou shall go from this palace a free man. Refuse, and thou wilt be sorry before an hour that thy father ever came within twenty paces of thy mother. THE BEGGAR: I have ever lamented that he did. For to be born into this world a beggar is a more unhappy thing than any that I know--unless it is to be born a king. THE KING: Fft! Thy tongue of a truth is too lively for thy health. Come, now, touch thy forehead thrice to the floor and promise solemnly that thou wilt never beg in the streets again. And hurry! THE SERVANT: (aside) It is wise to do as thy king commands thee. His patience is near an end. THE KING: Do not be afraid to soil the floor with thy forehead. I will graciously forgive thee for that. [THE BEGGAR stands motionless.] THE SERVANT: I said, it is not wise to keep the king waiting. [THE BEGGAR does not move.] THE KING: Well? (A pause.) Well? (In a rage) WELL? THE BEGGAR: O king, thou hast commanded me not to beg in the streets for bread, for the noise of my voice offends thee. Now therefore do I likewise command thee to remove thy crown from thy forehead and throw it from yonder window into the street. For when thou hast thrown thy crown into the street, then will I no longer be obliged to beg. THE KING: Fft! Thou commandest me! Thou, a beggar from the streets, commandest me, a king, to remove my crown from my forehead and throw it from yonder window into the street! THE BEGGAR: That is what I said. THE KING. Why, dost thou not know I can have thee slain for such words? THE BEGGAR: No. Thou canst not have me slain. The spears of thy soldiers are as straws against my body. THE KING: Ha! We shall see if they are. We shall see! THE SERVANT: O king, it is indeed true. It is even as he has told thee. THE BEGGAR: I have required thee to remove thy crown from thy forehead. If so be thou wilt throw it from yonder window into the street, my voice will cease to annoy thee any more. But if thou refuse, then thou wilt wish thou hadst never had any crown at all. For thy days will be filled with a terrible boding and thy nights will be full of horrors, even as a ship is full of rats. THE KING: Why, this is insolence. This is treason! THE BEGGAR: Wilt thou throw thy crown from yonder window? THE KING: Why, this is high treason! THE BEGGAR: I ask thee, wilt thou throw thy crown from yonder window? THE SERVANT: (aside to THE KING) Perhaps it were wise to humor him, O king. After thou hast thrown thy crown away I can go outside and bring it to thee again. THE BEGGAR: Well? Well? (He points to the window.) Well? THE KING: No! I will not throw my crown from that window--no, nor from any other window. What! Shall I obey the orders of a beggar? Never! THE BEGGAR: (preparing to leave) Truly, that is spoken like a king. Thou art a king, so thou wouldst prefer to lose thy head than that silly circle of gold that so foolishly sits upon it. But it is well. Thou art a king. Thou couldst not prefer otherwise. [He walks calmly toward the door.] THE KING: (to THE SERVANT) Stop him! Seize him! Does he think to get off so easily with his impudence! THE BEGGAR: (coolly) One of thy servants cannot stop me. Neither can ten thousand of them do me any harm. I am stronger than a mountain. I am stronger than the sea! THE KING: Ha! We will see about that, we will see about that. (To THE SERVANT) Hold him, I say. Call the guards. He shall be put in chains. THE BEGGAR: My strength is greater than a mountain and my words are more fearful than a hurricane. This servant of thine cannot even touch me. With one breath of my mouth I can blow over this whole palace. THE KING: Dost thou hear the impudence he is offering me? Why dost thou not seize him? What is the matter with thee? Why dost thou not call the guards? THE BEGGAR: I will not harm thee now. I will only cry aloud in the streets for bread wherewith to fill my belly. But one day I will not be so kind to thee. On that day my mouth will be filled with a rushing wind and my arms will become as strong as steel rods, and I will blow over this palace, and all the bones in thy foolish body I will snap between my fingers. I will beat upon a large drum and thy head will be my drumstick. I will not do these things now. But one day I will do them. Therefore, when my voice sounds again in thine ears, begging for bread, remember what I have told thee. Remember, O king, and be afraid! [He walks out. THE SERVANT, struck dumb, stares after him. THE KING sits in his chair, dazed.] THE KING: (suddenly collecting his wits) After him! After him! He must not be allowed to escape! After him! THE SERVANT: (faltering) O king--I cannot seem to move. THE KING: Quick, then. Call the guards. He must be caught and put in chains. Quick, I say. Call the guards! THE SERVANT: O king--I cannot seem to call them. THE KING: How! Art thou dumb? Ah! [THE BEGGAR'S voice is heard outside.] THE BEGGAR: Bread. Bread. Give me some bread. THE KING: Ah. [He turns toward the window, half-frightened, and then, almost instinctively, raises his hands toward his crown, and seems on the point of tossing it out the window. But with an oath he replaces it and presses it firmly on his head.] How! Am I afraid of a beggar! THE BEGGAR: (continuing outside) Bread. Bread. Give me some bread. THE KING: (with terrible anger) Close that window! [THE SERVANT stands stupidly, and the voice of THE BEGGAR grows louder as the curtain falls.] CURTAIN

Movie Review –Akira Kurosawa's Dreams

A solemn little boy comes out of his house one rainy morning to find the sun shining. His mother, practical and no-nonsense, looks up at the sky and says that foxes hold their wedding processions in such weather. ''They don't like to be seen by people,'' she says, and goes about her business.
The casual remark is enough to send the boy into the forest, where the trees are as large and imposing as California redwoods. Even the ferns are taller than he is. The rain glistens within the shafts of sunlight. The boy moves with a certain amount of dread. This is forbidden territory.
In a moment of pure screen enchantment, a strange wedding procession slowly comes into view, the priests in front, followed by the bridal pair, their attendants, their families, their friends and their retainers. They walk on two feet, like people, but that they are foxes is clear from the orangey whiskers on their otherwise rice-powder-white, masklike faces.
The procession appears to be choreographed. The foxes march in unison to the hollow clicking sounds of ancient musical instruments. Every few steps their haughty manner becomes furtive when, as if on cue, they abruptly pause, cock their heads to the side, listen, and then move on.
This is the sublime beginning of ''Sunshine Through the Rain,'' the first segment of the eight that compose ''Akira Kurosawa's Dreams,'' the grand new film by the 80-year-old Japanese master who, over a 40-year period, has given us ''Rashomon,'' ''Throne of Blood'' and ''Ran,'' among other classics. The film opens today at the 57th Street Playhouse.
One might have expected ''Dreams'' to be a summing up, a coda. It isn't. It's something altogether new for Kurosawa, a collection of short, sometimes fragmentary films that are less like dreams than fairy tales of past, present and future. The magical and mysterious are mixed with the practical, funny and polemical.
The movie is about many things, including the terrors of childhood, parents who are as olympian as gods, the seductive nature of death, nuclear annihilation, environmental pollution and, in a segment titled simply ''Crows,'' art. In this, the movie's least characteristic segment, Martin Scorsese, sporting a red beard and an unmistakable New York accent, appears as Vincent van Gogh, beady-eyed and intense, his head newly bandaged.
Van Gogh explains the bandage to the young Japanese artist who has somehow managed to invade the world of van Gogh's paintings, entering just down-river from the bridge at Arles: ''Yesterday I was trying to do a self-portrait, but the ear kept getting in the way.''
''Dreams'' is a willful work, being exactly the kind of film that Kurosawa wanted to make, with no apologies to anyone. Two of the segments may drive some people up the wall.
''Mount Fuji in Red'' is a kind a meta-science fiction visualization of the end of the world or, at least, of Japan. As the citizens of Tokyo panic, Mount Fuji is seen in the distance, silhouetted by the flames from the explosions of nuclear plants in the final stages of melt-down. ''But they told us nuclear plants were safe,'' someone wails.
In ''Mount Fuji in Red,'' the nightmare of nuclear holocaust, expressed in psychological terms in Kurosawa's ''I Live in Fear'' (1955), is made manifest in images of cartoonlike bluntness.
It may be no coincidence that Ishiro Honda, who has worked off and on as Kurosawa's assistant director since 1949, and is his assistant again on this film, is one of those responsible for such Japanese pop artifacts as ''Godzilla,'' ''Rodan'' and ''The Mysterians.''
''The Weeping Demon'' segment is Kurosawa's picture of a Beckett-like world, one ravaged by environmental pollution. ''Flowers are crippled,'' someone says, looking at a dandelion six feet tall. Horned mutants roam the earth. In this last pecking order before the end, demons with two horns eat those with only one.
''Dreams'' is moving both for what is on the screen, and for the set of the mind that made it.
Among other things, ''Dreams'' suggests in oblique fashion that the past does not exist. What we think of as the past is, rather, a romantic concept held by those too young to have any grasp on the meaning of age.
In this astonishingly beautiful, often somber work, emotions experienced long ago do not reappear coated with the softening cobwebs of time. They may have been filed away but, once they are recalled, they are as vivid, sharp and terrifying as they were initially. Time neither eases the pain of old wounds nor hides the scars.
For Kurosawa, the present is not haunted by the past. Instead, it's crowded by an accumulation of other present times that include the future. The job is keeping them in order, like unruly foxes.
The foxes in ''Sunshine Through the Rain'' are not especially unruly, but their power is real and implacable. When the little boy returns home from the forest, he is met by his mother, who has run out of patience with him. She hands the boy a dagger, neatly sheathed within a bamboo scabbard, and tells him the foxes have left it for him.
Since the boy has broken the law protecting the privacy of foxes, they expect him, as a boy of honor, to kill himself. The boy is bewildered. His mother sighs and says that if he can find the foxes again, he might persuade them to forgive him. In that case, he can come home. In the meantime, the door will be locked.
The boy looks hopeful. ''But,'' his mother points out, ''they don't often forgive.''
A little boy is also the ''I'' figure, the dreamer, in another magical segment, ''The Peach Orchard,'' about the fury of some imperial spirits when a peach orchard is chopped down while in bloom. The boy explains that he tried to stop the destruction. Because they believe him, the spirits allow him to see the orchard as it once was.
As these spirits, life-size dolls representing ancient emperors and the members of their courts, begin to sing, the air becomes thick with orangey-pink blossoms and the doll-figures turn into trees. The effect is exhilarating.
In ''The Blizzard,'' a mountain climber is tempted to give in to his frozen exhaustion by a beautiful demon. ''Snow is warm,'' she tells him soothingly. ''Ice is hot.'' ''The Tunnel'' is about a guilt-ridden army officer who must persuade his troops, killed in battle, that they are indeed dead, and that nothing is to be gained by trying to hang onto life.
The film's final episode, ''Village of the Watermills,'' features Chishu Ryu as a philosophical old fellow, the elder of an idyllic village where the air and water are clean, where villagers take no more from nature than they need, and where people live on so long that funerals are times of joy and celebration. The style is lyrical, the mood intended to be healing.
''Dreams'' is absolutely stunning to look at and listen to. It is, in fact, almost as much of a trip as people once thought ''Fantasia'' to be.
More important, though, is that it's a work by a director who has continued to be vigorous and productive into an age at which most film makers are supposed to go silent. Movies are a young man's game. ''Dreams'' is a report from one of the last true frontiers of cinema. ''Akira Kurosawa's Dreams'' is rated PG (''Parental Guidance Suggested''). It includes sequences that could frighten very young viewers.

Akira's Crow

Dreams

Dreams (夢, Yume^?, aka Akira Kurosawa's Dreams, I Saw a Dream Like This, or Such Dreams I Have Dreamed) is a 1990 magical realism film based on actual dreams of the film's director, Akira Kurosawa at different stages of his life. The film is more imagery than dialogue.　The alternative titles ("I Saw a Dream Like This") are a translation of the opening line of Ten Nights of Dreams, by Natsume Sōseki, which begins: Konna yume wo mita (こんな夢を見た^?). The film was screened out of competition at the 1990 Cannes Film Festival.^[1]

Contents  [hide]  1 Dreams 1.1 Sunshine Through The Rain 1.2 The Peach Orchard 1.3 The Blizzard 1.4 The Tunnel 1.5 Crows 1.6 Mount Fuji in Red 1.7 The Weeping Demon 1.8 Village of the Watermills 2 Cast 3 References 4 External links

 Dreams

The film consists of several dreams based on Kurosawa's own, throughout his life. The dreams are eight separate segments in the following order:

 Sunshine Through The Rain

There is an old legend in Japan that states that when the sun is shining through the rain, the kitsune (foxes) have their weddings (this is a common theme globally – see sunshower). In this first dream, a boy defies the wish of a woman, possibly his mother, to remain at home during a day with such weather. From behind a large tree in the nearby forest, he witnesses the slow wedding procession of the kitsune. Unfortunately, he is spotted by the foxes and runs. When he tries to return home, the same woman says that a fox had come by the house, leaving behind a tantō knife. The woman gives the knife to the boy, implying that he must commit suicide. The woman asks the boy to go and beg forgiveness from the foxes, although they are known to be unforgiving, refusing to let him in unless he does so. The boy sets off into the mountains, towards the place under the rainbow in search for the kitsune's home.

The Peach Orchard

Hina Matsuri, the Doll Festival, traditionally takes place in spring when the peach blossoms are in full bloom. The dolls that go on display at this time, they say, are representative of the peach trees and their pink blossoms. One boy's family, however, has chopped down their peach orchard, so the boy feels a sense of loss during this year's festival. After being scolded by his older sister the boy spots a small girl running out the front door. He follows her to the now-treeless orchard, where the dolls from his sister's collection have come to life and are standing before him on the slopes of the orchard. The living dolls, revealing themselves to be the spirits of the peach trees, berate the boy about chopping down the precious trees. But after realizing how much he loved the blossoms, they agree to give him one last glance at the peach trees by way of a slow and beautiful dance to Etenraku. After they disappear the boy finds the small girl walking among the treeless orchard before seeing a single peach tree sprouting in her place.

[edit] The Blizzard

A group of four mountaineers struggle up a mountain path during a horrendous blizzard. It has been snowing for three days and the men are dispirited and ready to give up. One by one they stop walking, giving in to the snow and sure death. The leader endeavors to push on, but he too, stops in the snow. A strange woman (possibly the Yuki-onna of Japanese myth) appears out of nowhere and attempts to lure the last conscious man to his death - give into the snow and the storm, she urges him on, into reverie, into sleep, into certain death. But finding some heart, deep within, he shakes off his stupor and her entreaties, to discover that the storm has abated, and that their camp is only a few feet away.

The Tunnel

A Japanese army officer is traveling down a deserted road at dusk, on his way back home from fighting in the Second World War. He comes to a large concrete pedestrian tunnel that seems to go on forever into the darkness. Suddenly, an angry, almost demonic-looking anti-tank dog (strapped with explosives) runs out of the tunnel and snarls deeply at him. He proceeds with his walk, afraid, into the tunnel. He comes out the other side, but then witnesses something horrific — the yūrei (ghost) of one of the soldiers (Private Noguchi) whom he had charge over in the war comes out of the tunnel behind him, his face a light blue, signifying that he is dead.
The soldier seems not to believe he's dead, but the officer convinces him and the soldier returns into the darkness of the tunnel. Just when he thinks he's seen the worst, the officer sees his entire third platoon marching out of the tunnel. They too are dead, with light blue faces. He tries to convince them that they're dead, and he expresses his deep-seated guilt about letting them all die in the war. They stand mute, in reply to his words. He then orders them to about face, and then march back into the tunnel. Lastly, we see a second appearance of the hellish dog, from the beginning of this dream.
This is one of three "nightmares" featured in the film.
Akira Kurosawa's long time friend Ishirō Honda may have helped to direct, or have directed this piece entirely. The two always spoke of filming a story of a dead soldier returning from war.

Crows

A brilliantly colored vignette featuring director Martin Scorsese as Vincent Van Gogh. An art student (a character wearing Kurosawa's trademark hat who provides the POV for the rest of the film) finds himself inside the vibrant and sometimes chaotic world inside Van Gogh's artwork, where he meets the artist in a field and converses with him. The student loses track of the artist (who is missing an ear and nearing the end of his life) and travels through other works trying to find him. Van Gogh's painting Wheat Field with Crows is an important element in this dream. This Segment features Prelude No. 15 in D-flat major ("Raindrop") by Chopin. The visual effects for this particular segment were provided by George Lucas and his special effects group Industrial Light and Magic.^{[citation needed]}
This is the only segment where the characters do not speak Japanese.

[Mount Fuji in Red

The film's second nightmare sequence. A large nuclear power plant near Mount Fuji has begun to melt down, painting the sky a horrendous red and sending the millions of Japanese citizens desperately fleeing into the ocean. Three adults and two children are left behind on land, but they soon realize that the radiation will kill them anyway. The Weeping Demon
A man (possibly Kurosawa himself) finds himself wandering around a misty, bleak mountainous terrain. He meets a strange oni-like man, who is actually a mutated human with one horn. The "demon" explains that there had been a nuclear holocaust which resulted in the loss of nature and animals, enormous dandelions and humans sprouting horns, which cause them so much agony that you can hear them howling during the night, but, according to the demon, they can't die, which makes their agony even worse. The last of the three "nightmare" sequences. This is actually a post-apocalyptic retelling of a classic Buddhist fable of the same name.

Village of the Watermills

A young man finds himself entering a peaceful, stream-laden village. The traveller meets an old, wise man who is fixing a broken watermill wheel. The elder explains that the people of his village decided long ago to forsake the polluting influence of modern technology and return to a happier, cleaner era of society. They have chosen spiritual health over convenience, and the traveller is surprised but intrigued by this notion.
At the end of the sequence (and the film), a funeral procession for an old woman takes place in the village, which instead of mourning, the people celebrate joyfully as the proper end to a good life. This segment was filmed at the Daio Wasabi farm in the Nagano Prefecture. The film ends with a haunting yet melancholic melody from the excerpts of "In the Village" , part of the Caucasian Sketches, Suite No. 1 by the Russian composer Mikhail Ippolitov-Ivanov.

Celluloid Heroes

"Celluloid Heroes" is a song performed by The Kinks and written by their lead vocalist and
principal songwriter, Ray Davies. It debuted on their 1972 album Everybody's in Show-Biz.
Lyrical themes.The song names several famous actors of 20th century film, and also mentions Los Angeles's Hollywood Boulevard, alluding to its Hollywood Walk of Fame. The actors mentioned are Greta Garbo, Rudolph Valentino, Bela Lugosi, Bette Davis, Marilyn Monroe, George Sanders, and Mickey Rooney although some versions of the song, including recorded concert versions, are
performed with fewer verses and, thus, Marilyn Monroe, George Sanders, and Mickey Rooney are
left out. Davies uses the technique of personification (of the Walk's concrete stars) to create an intimate connection with the subject matter. The lyric has a warm, melancholy and nostalgic feel, and is driven by three underlying themes. First, "Celluloid Heroes" specifically cites the inhumane and exploitative manner in which the film industry can use its stars. Second, Davies suggests the
escapist fantasy world of movies as an attractive respite. "I wish my life were a non-stop Hollywood movie show," he writes, "because celluloid heroes never feel any pain," and "never really die." Finally, Davies treats as metaphor the sometimes ethereal and elusive nature of Hollywood fame and success. "Everybody's a dreamer, everybody's a star" is followed by a cautionary note to the listener - those who find success must maintain their guard, because "success walks hand-in-hand with failure along the Hollywood Boulevard."
"Celluloid Heroes" and the "Everybody's in Show-Biz" album was followed by Davies' and the
Kinks' pioneering but commercially unsuccessful and artistically uneven theatrical incarnation
(1973–1976)
The Kinks
he Kinks were an English rock band formed in Muswell Hill, North London, by brothers Ray and
Dave Davies in 1964. Categorized in the United States as a British Invasion band, The Kinks are
recognized as one of the most important and influential rock acts of the era.[1][2] Their music was influenced by a wide range of genres, including rhythm and blues, British music hall, folk, and
country. Ray Davies (lead vocals, rhythm guitar) and Dave Davies (lead guitar, vocals) remained
members throughout the group's 32-year run. Original members Pete Quaife (bass guitar, vocals)
and Mick Avory (drums and percussion) were replaced by John Dalton in 1969 and Bob Henrit in
1984, respectively. Dalton was in turn replaced by Jim Rodford in 1978. Keyboardist Nicky
Hopkins accompanied the band during studio sessions in the mid-1960s. Later, various
keyboardists, including John Gosling and Ian Gibbons, were full-time members.[1]
The Kinks first came to prominence in 1964 with their third single, "You Really Got Me", written
by Ray Davies.[2][3] It became an international hit, topping the charts in the United Kingdom and
reaching the Top 10 in the United States.[3][4] Between the mid-1960s and early 1970s, the group
released a string of commercially and critically successful singles and LPs, and gained a reputation
for songs and concept albums reflecting English culture and lifestyle, fuelled by Ray Davies'
observational writing style.[2] Albums such as Face to Face, Something Else, The Kinks Are the
Village Green Preservation Society, Arthur, Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround, and
Muswell Hillbillies, along with their accompanying singles, are considered among the most
influential recordings of the period.[1][3][5] The Kinks' subsequent theatrical concept albums met
with less success, but the band experienced a revival during the late 1970s and early 1980s—groups such as Van Halen, The Jam, The Knack, and The Pretenders covered their songs, helping to boost
The Kinks' record sales. In the 1990s, Britpop acts such as Blur and Oasis cited the band as a major influence.[1] The Kinks broke up in 1996, a result of the commercial failures of their last few
albums and creative tension between the Davies brothers.[6]
The Kinks had five Top 10 singles on the US Billboard chart. Nine of their albums charted in the
Top 40.[7] In the UK, the group had seventeen Top 20 singles and five Top 10 albums.[8] Four of
their albums have been certified gold by the RIAA. Among numerous honours, they received the
Ivor Novello Award for "Outstanding Service to British Music".[9] In 1990, their first year of
eligibility, the original four members of The Kinks were inducted into the Rock.
(Collected from Wikipedia)

Panthibhojanam

Eventhough Narayana Guru had built a number of temples and composed many poems in praise of popular Hindu deities, he had many atheist followers. This shows his love for humanity as a whole which is irrespective of any faith based affiliations. Many of his atheist followers in fact considered him as an atheist1. For instance, one of his prominent disciples Sahodaran Ayyappan was a militant atheist and one of the founders of Yukthivadi, the first rationalist/atheist magazine in Malayalam. When Sahodaran Ayyappan modified Narayana Guru's famous catchphrase, Oru Jati, Oru Matham, Oru Daivam Manushyanu (One Caste, One Religion, One God for Humanbeing) and re-written it as Jati Venda, Matham Venda, Daivam Venda Manushyanu (No Caste, No Religion, No God for Humanbeing), the latter did not protest2.

Casteism prevalent amongst the Hindus even in the first half of 20th century was so rabid that uppercaste people refused to have food along with the people belonging to lower caste and "untouchable" communities. Hindu scriptures were profusely quoted by them to justify this practice. The Ezhava community in which Narayana Guru was born too was not immune to this barbaric practice even after half-a-century of Narayana Guru's work. When Sahodaran Ayyappan inspired by Narayanaguru's message of caste-less and creed-less society launched what is called "Panthibhojanam" or community feasts participating people belonging to various castes and communities, the Ezhava lords called him "Pulayanaiappan" (Pulaya was used as a derogatory term for having feast with the "Pulayas", an "untouchable" community in the caste-hierarchy of Hinduism) and tried to forcibly prevent the feast. It is in this context that Narayana Guru came out in support of Sahodaran Ayyappan and sent the message reproduced alongside. Translated into English, the message reads: "Whatever be one's religion, costume, language etc, since their caste is the same, there is nothing wrong in having inter-marriages and community feasts". It is this message of Narayanaguru which transgresses the established canons of Hindu religion (or any religion for that matter) that makes Narayanaguru a rationalist icon.

To avoid the attempts made by a section of his followers to identify him with Hinduism alone, Narayana Guru was forced to state explicitly that he did not belong to any religious sects. Through a message he sent in the year 1916, he proclaimed : It is years since I left castes and religions. Yet some people think that I belong to their religion. That is not correct. I do not belong to any particular caste or religion.