I don't doubt that Madadayo's long journey to the States has been caused, at least in part, by the fact that it is not a masterpiece on the level of the director's most adored films. That is not to say that the film is bad at all, or not worth seeing; any diligent filmgoer owes it to him or herself to see Madadayo. The difference is that, after years of making epic-length samurai sagas and telescopically humane drams, Kurosawa went with a smaller, more intimate approach as he finished his career. Madadayo is not a whimper in place of a bang, but a whisper instead of a shout. It is delicate rather than sturdy, shy rather than bold. Viewers expecting to have their socks knocked off one last time will be disappointed.

Those who choose to allow Madadayo to come to them will be the viewers who appreciate this loving, calm mediation on life and death the most. Episodic and jaggedly structured, the film is concerned with a beloved professor named Uehida (Tatsuo Matsumura), whose students decide to throw a retirement party in honor of his career. Cheerfully obliging when asked to down a rather large glass of beer as a symbol of his vitality, the professor clearly enjoys life, as he gives, takes and shares with his many admirers. As the beginning of what will become a long-standing tradition, the crowd of his students asks the professor, "Mahda kai?", which means, "Are you ready?" The professor's hardy reply is "Madada yo!", meaning "Not yet!"

This call-and-answer routine becomes the focal point of the professor's life, as many unexpected events challenge his determination. One, of course, is World War 2, which Kurosawa brilliantly handles in a single edit, immediately taking the professor from his comfortable life to living in an abandoned shack in the midst of rubble. The film hangs around at that junction for a while, with the professor's students visiting the shack and eventually paying to build him a new home, and then it moves forward again, to an even more surprising episode involving the professor's pet cat, who runs away. This is an amazing sequence; sad and agonizing, it nonetheless allows Kurosawa to demonstrate his uniquely optimistic view of the world with a conclusion to the segment that is among the more beautiful scenes filmed in the last fifty years.

Taken as a whole, Madadayo is a treasure. It's funny, sad, and very well acted, particularly by Matsumura, whose performance as the professor is one of the best you'll see in any Kurosawa film. The film fits in well with the director's lesser-known subcategory of films set in contemporary times (his non-samurai works). A lot of people, engaged with Kurosawa's reputation more than with his actual body of work, are unaware of this side of the director, and they're missing out on great films like High and Low, Ikiru, The Bad Sleep Well, and The Idiot, among others. For anyone interested in Japanese cinema, Kurosawa's modern-set films are essential, and Madadayo is a welcome addition to that canon.

For those who are die-hard fans of Kurosawa, Madadayo becomes a fitting swan song to not just a career, but a legacy. It is ironic that, while Madadayo was Kurosawa's declaration that he was not yet ready, it will now be first seen in America a while after his death--after, perhaps, he was ready. No matter, though. He lives on through his films and with his fans, who, when asked if they're ready to forget Kurosawa, will always happily reply, "Not yet."