The Idiot 
1. He sits slumped in the chair, the bottle of liquor on one thigh and a glass on the other.
2. Side view. She sits next to him on the piano bench. Behind them is a window, and outside the window is a blizzard. As she talks to him she occasionally picks out a few notes on the piano.
3. Some of the worst ending lines of dialog I’ve ever heard, “If only we could love like he did, not out of hate. I am the idiot.”
Some striking scenes and images but Kurosawa misses on this one. Everything is just too much: too long, too much melodrama, too much like a soap opera, too talky. What an endurance test this was to watch.