The Lower Depths 1957

In a bleak, rundown Edo tenement, an elderly man and his bitter wife run a modest boarding house that becomes a crossroads for the city’s poorest and most troubled souls. The landlady’s younger sister, Otaki the Candy-Seller Nijiko Kiyokawa, helps with maintenance and somehow manages to bring in an old man as a new tenant, adding another layer to the already crowded, tense space. Into this microcosm steps Kahei the Pilgrim [Bokuzen Hidari], a wanderer who quickly adopts the role of mediator and grandfatherly figure, though there is a persistent air of mystery around his past that makes some tenants wary.

Sutekichi the Thief [Toshirô Mifune], a self-appointed leader among the tenants, is entangled in a clandestine affair with Osugi the Landlady [Isuzu Yamada], a relationship that quietly unsettles the household. His growing interest, however, begins to shift toward Osugi’s gentler sister, Okayo [Kyôko Kagawa], who initially pays him little mind. This mismatch of affection and power fuels jealousy and tension within the tenement walls, as Okayo’s aloofness frustrates Sutekichi and strains the bond with Osugi.

Osugi’s jealousy sharpens into a dangerous plot: she tries to persuade Sutekichi to murder her husband so she can hand him over to the authorities. Yet Sutekichi sees through the scheme and refuses to take part in murder. The tension escalates when Rokubei, Osugi’s husband, confronts the affair and engages in a brutal fight with Sutekichi, a clash that ends with Kahei intervening to prevent tragedy.

As time passes, Okayo begins to glimpse a side of Sutekichi that is capable of kindness, and her attitude toward him softens. This budding warmth intensifies the rift between the lovers and the rest of the household when Rokubei and Osugi beat Okayo, prompting the other tenants to break into their house to rescue her. In the ensuing chaos, Sutekichi’s fury leads to an accidental killing of Rokubei, and Osugi’s anger fixes blame squarely on him. Unable to defend himself, Sutekichi is accused by Osugi of being goaded into the act, while Okayo’s faith in their bond shatters and she withdraws. Kahei, whose testimony could have cleared Sutekichi, flees the scene rather than face a potential reveal of secrets, deepening the sense that he too harbors something to hide. In the end, Sutekichi and Osugi are arrested, leaving the tenement to confront the consequences of desire, deceit, and the fragility of trust.

Beyond the central drama, the tenement overflows with smaller, often comic, strands that illuminate the characters’ humanity. A nihilistic gambler named Unokichi [Yû Fujiki] stubbornly resists the pilgrim’s hopeful entreaties, clinging to despair as the others search for a way to endure. An aging actor [Kamatari Fujiwara] has lost his memory for lines, a quiet echo of a life once lived on stage, while a craftsman [Tomekichi the Tinker, played by Eijirô Tôno] appears emotionally numb to the dying of his wife Asa [Eiko Miyoshi], only to crack open when she finally passes away. A destitute man, Kuna [Atsushi Watanabe], insists he is descended from a samurai lineage, a claim that is quickly challenged by the group and the harsh judgment of the street. Interspersed among these threads are a rowdy band of drunks who seem to revel in misfortune, offering a counterpoint to the more solemn arcs and reminding us of the tenement’s stubborn, resistant vitality.

The film moves with a quiet, observational tempo that never shies away from the harsher truths of life in a crowded, undersung community. It explores loyalty and betrayal, tenderness and violence, and the small acts of mercy that survive amid hardship. The relationships—between Sutekichi and Okayo, between Osugi and Rokubei, and between Kahei and the others—are drawn with a restrained humanity that never glamorizes or sensationalizes the pain, instead presenting it as something palpable and ordinary within this cramped world. The result is a portrait of communal life in which every contact, every decision, and every misstep can ripple outward, altering destinies in ways that feel both intimate and inexorably fated.