Donald Richie’s commentary on the Criterion edition of Akira Kurosawa’s Drunken Angel sparked an intriguing thought regarding the nightclub scene and its prominent “Jungle Boogie Song.” Initially, the scene felt somewhat awkward, and the song itself rather jarring. However, reflecting on this musical choice, especially after considering further analysis of Kurosawa’s work, opens up a deeper interpretation of its significance within the film. Was Kurosawa using this particular piece of music to offer a critique of the cultural landscape imposed upon post-war Japan?
On first viewing, the “Jungle Boogie song” appears to mirror the chaotic and brutal environment of the film’s setting – a lawless, “dog-eat-dog” world. It seems to amplify the sense of disorder and moral decay prevalent in the “sump.” However, considering Kurosawa’s known appreciation for classical music, as Richie points out – citing examples like the Bolero-esque score in Rashomon and Debussy-inspired music elsewhere – prompts a re-evaluation. Kurosawa clearly wasn’t averse to Western musical forms. Therefore, the inclusion of this jazz-influenced “Jungle Boogie song” likely carries a more nuanced meaning than simply setting the scene.
Could the “Jungle Boogie song” be a deliberate commentary on what Kurosawa perceived as the superficial and valueless aspects of the occupying forces’ culture and its subsequent influence on Japanese popular culture? The song’s style, characterized by its perceived wantonness and promiscuity, seems fitting for the morally ambiguous world of the modern yakuza depicted in the film. In a narrative structured around contrasting elements, is this unrestrained “Jungle Boogie” intentionally juxtaposed with the more refined and redemptive music heard in the film’s finale? Could it represent the seductive yet ultimately corrupting influence of a Western culture lacking in traditional Japanese decorum and restraint?
Beyond the “Jungle Boogie,” Drunken Angel features a rich tapestry of music. The guitar music, in particular, stands out, raising questions about its own symbolic weight. Is Kurosawa also using the guitar as a subtle critique of the occupying culture’s influence? The melancholic tune played by Okada is undeniably beautiful, yet one wonders if it too represents a foreign element seeping into the Japanese soundscape. The idea that Kurosawa initially considered using “Mack the Knife” further fuels this line of inquiry. The image of a serenading guitar player itself might have been associated with American culture in Kurosawa’s mind. Were guitars, and the troubadour figure, already established within Japanese cultural traditions, or were they seen as a more recent, foreign import? This, combined with Mifune’s slicked-back hair, evokes the emerging “greaser” subculture of the late 1940s, hinting at the rapid cultural shifts Japan was undergoing.
Ultimately, the “Jungle Boogie song” sequence in Drunken Angel is far from a simple musical interlude. It invites us to consider Kurosawa’s perspective on the influx of Western popular culture into post-war Japan. Was he critical, or simply observant? And how does this particular song contribute to the film’s broader themes of corruption, redemption, and cultural identity? The answers, as with much of Kurosawa’s masterful filmmaking, are likely complex and open to interpretation.
