World War II ended with the flash of atomic explosions over the Japanese cities of Hiroshima (August 6, 1945) and Nagasaki (August 9, 1945). The immediate death toll reached 120,000 in the two cities--a veritable holocaust--and tens of thousands more died later from the effects of radiation.

The horror shocked many Japanese survivors into silence; they preferred not to talk about it. Most Americans considered the bombings retribution for Japanese atrocities during World War II, but many also felt uneasy about the devastation their technology had caused. Indicative of the moral dilemma, the U.S. Army that occupied Japan from 1945-1952 censored Japanese books and films that made reference to the atomic bombings.

Although the bombings forced the Japanese government to surrender on August 14, 1945, the United States allowed the Emperor to remain on the throne. An army of occupation, originally under the command of General Douglas MacArthur, imposed a democratic government and oversaw the return of normal civilian life. Under its new constitution, Japan renounced the use of military forces. A 1952 treaty ended the U.S. occupation.

U.S. leaders defended the atomic bombings as a way of ending the war rapidly, thus saving thousands of lives on both sides. Indeed, the government stressed that the use of atomic weapons merely extended a policy of mass bombardment that had devastated Japan's cities during the war. Nevertheless, the raw power of the bomb stunned Americans no less than its Japanese targets. After the initial glee at the end of the war, U.S. politicians, scientists, and military strategists recognized that human life would never again be the same, that people everywhere would face the prospect of extinction.

While Americans discussed the morality of atomic weapons, U.S. censorship discouraged the Japanese from entering the dialogue. Intended to stifle potential anti-American feeling, the censorship may have indicated some shame for having used the bomb in the first place. President Truman's refusal to express any remorse for the use of atomic weapons angered survivors. In Rhapsody in August, Kane acknowledges that "a long time ago" she felt "bitter about AmericaÉ.Now I neither like nor dislike America."

In naming this character "Kane," Kurosawa evokes the title of a 1949 book by Dr. Takashi Nagai, Nagasaki no Kane (The Bells of Nagasaki). The book depicted the immediate effects of the bombing. U.S. officials delayed its publication because the author failed to include offsetting descriptions of Japanese atrocities, implying that the atomic bombing was an equivalent wartime atrocity.

Survivors of the bombs, like Kane, carried not only physical scars (like her hair loss), but also emotional wounds that did not heal. Known as hibakusha (literally, "explosion affected persons"), they developed a unique identity in Japan as victims, but also as witnesses to inexplicable experiences. The silent conversation between Kane and her elderly friend reveals the power of such associations, the shared knowledge that cannot be articulated and which others cannot understand.

In postwar Japan, survivors experienced peculiar anxieties about themselves. Physical disfigurement marked them as victims facing unknown medical consequences. Delayed radiation sickness often made them undesirable as marriage partners (a theme in another strong movie, Dark Rain [1956]). They also suffered from "survivor guilt." Having lived while so many others died, they accepted responsibility for their inability to save others. For instance, at the time of the bombing, dying people begged for water, but medical advisors thought that such assistance would worsen their condition. They died anyway, leaving survivors with remorse for being unable to help no matter what they did. The scene of Kane's children splashing water on the plaque reenacts that pain.

Such complicated psychological responses separated the hibakusha from other Japanese. "We carry deep in our hearts, every one of us, stubborn, unhealing wounds" wrote Dr. Takashi Nagai in his book, We of Nagasaki (1951). "When we are alone we brood upon them, and when we see our neighbors we are again reminded of them; theirs as well as ours." Yet such survivors, like the character Kane in the movie, came to understand the value--the moral imperative--to pass on their special experiences, their knowledge and wisdom, to succeeding generations.

When the film opened at the Cannes Festival in France in 1991, critics protested aloud during the scene showing the international monuments that the director had ignored Japan's military aggression that had started the violent war. Others objected to Clark's apology to Grandma, believing, along with President Truman, that the United States had nothing for which to apologize.

In those scenes, however, Kurosawa expresses a desire not only for reconciliation between nations, but also for coming to terms with the past. The Japanese American relative, Clark, apologizes not for America's atom bomb, but for his insensitivity to his family's presence in Nagasaki, to his ignorance of his uncle's fate there, and to his failure to see Kane's need to honor her dead husband. For better and for worse, connection with the past provides understanding for human relations in the present. Through the grandchildren, the movie also suggests the importance of linking the past to the future.

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