Voilà quelque chose de plus intéressant, je l'espère, que de polémiquer pour rien un jour comme aujourd'hui, qui plus est en faisant du hors-sujet... :roll: J'ai trouvé ça sur un forum anglophone. Cela concerne les comparaisons avec Kurosawa, que PJ a lui-même cité, plus précisément à travers la bataille du Gouffre de Helm justement. Je ne suis pas d'accord avec tout, mais je crois que ça mérite lecture. Désolé si vous ne lisez pas l'anglais, mais je n'ai pas vraiment le temps de traduire. :? Mais ça mérite vraiment quelques efforts, si vous vous en sentez capable un 1er Janvier.
The Two Towers has been compared to the work of Kurosawa, with particular reference to the Helm's Deep scene. While there are spectacular sequences in the TT film (the raising of the siege ladders with the bare-chested goblins clinging to the top, the serried ranks of Isengarders, the explosives and the torch-carrier), the comparison with Kurosawa's epics only serves to highlight flaws and failings in the LotR film.Three categories suggest themselves here:1) SentimentalityThe TT film-makers succeed in creating an atmosphere of desperation at Helm's Deep; the shots of boys being snatched from their mothers' arms to man the walls were poignant and effective. This sense of desperation was undermined, however, by the failure to depict any of these striplings being killed or hurt in the attack (at least, my one viewing of the film disclosed none).In stark contrast, Kurosawa creates a far more effective sense of the poignancy and grief of war in Kagemusha, where he shows two young grooms or pages - teenage boys - dressed in red armour and seated on either side of the main character as he watches a battle unfold. The viewer is immediately struck by the youth and small stature of these two, and the poignancy of war is brought home when, after a surprise attack, the two red-armoured, bloodied corpses lie atop the pile of the slain.Without being at all heavy-handed, Kurosawa makes his war desperate, tragic and sad. Peter Jackson, on the other hand, only gets half-way; boys may have to fight, but they don't actually get killed. This, along with the village children reunited with their mother, serves to undermine the gravity and horror of the situation - to the detriment of the film.2) PlausibilityComparing Jackson's LotR to Kurosawa's works highlights a second weakness in the former; a readiness to abandon plausibility, particularly in fight scenes. The two worst examples of this were when Aragorn and Gimli crept out to relieve pressure on the keep gates, and when Theoden and Aragorn led the charge from the keep. In both cases, plausibility is abandoned utterly; the horsemen riding from the keep into the massed uruks on the ramp looked like a computer game, with the laws of physics seemingly suspended. In the earlier incident, all credibility was abandoned as the hordes of goblins seemed singularly unable to deal with a couple of foes, despite overwhelming numbers, bows, ferocity and fearlessness.In films such as The Seven Samurai, Yojimbo and Sanjuro, Kurosawa includes plenty of surprise attacks, heroism and virtuoso swordplay. Nevertheless, he never breaks the audience's suspension of disbelief. The hero of Yojimbo and Sanjuro succeeds against greater numbers because he is convincingly fast and deadly, not because his foes refuse to attack him more than one or two at a time (as in Aragorn's fight scenes in both FotR and TT; what peculiar code of chivalry do those sporting uruks follow?). Surprise attacks in Kurosawa's films succeed because of stealth and cunning, not because the director chooses to abandon all credibility during those scenes.3) TonePerhaps the greatest failing of the Helm's Deep sequence was the failure to maintain a consistently grim and desperate tone. Obtrusive levity and forced humour persistently shattered the tension. Gimli's lines and characterization were the main culprits here. All the menace and tension of the Isengard army was dissipated because central characters did not appear to take the threat seriously. The competition of Legolas and Gimli was spectacularly badly handled; it could have been laced with grim gallows humour, but instead it made the siege seem like light entertainment.There is humour in many of Kurosawa's films (and some of it is pure comic clowning) but it never breaks the tension of the battles, which are consistently grim, desperate and dark (should a battle ever be otherwise?). In the The Seven Samurai, there is a certain amount of grim gallows humour in the climax, but it is thorougly plausible, and adds to the sense of desperation.Jackson certainly had the sets, the costumes and the technology to do something to equal (or even surpass) Kurosawa's battles. He evidently lacks, unfortunately, the far more important element of directorial genius that makes Kurosawa's epics so memorable. That is a real pity.