Leave it to Kurosawa to make an hour of listing evidence and clues exciting.

High and Low is tight, tense, and engaging, but what makes it so great for me is that Kurosawa (based on the book King's Ransom by Ed McBain) uses an almost Dante-like structuring of the three points of view by which this story is told. Each act is a discrete and self-contained plot with its own beginning, middle, and end, which make High and Low more of a crime anthology than an epic. Still, all the main characters appear (physically or vocally) in all three stories, tying them together and leaving room for an epilogue which unites the circuitous narrative. In addition, the class-warfare analogies really do make the original Japanese title of Heaven and Hell more apt (although the English title does lead to a plethora of puns based on elevation, drug use, social status, etc.).

Act I: Gondo (Heaven)
Gondo's tale unfolds slowly, introducing him as an idealistic, if somewhat ruthless, businessman. Although his methods to take control of National Shoes are machiavellian, he does so to maintain the integrity of the company. He is a man exemplifying the Japanese work ethic, which is why it is so believable he would initially refuse to sacrifice his well-being for his lowly chauffeur's son. He has worked hard to become successful, and has the opportunity to remain so after the kidnapper's mistake. However, he forsakes the idealist tendencies in what could be considered a rebuke of the workaholic ethic of the day and chooses humanism, gambling his life on a servant's and putting his fate in the hands of the police to solve this crime. He's clawed his way up to Heaven, and is risking a trip to Hell.

Act II: The Law (Limbo)
The entire second act consists of the detective-work used to track down the kidnapper. There is not much action, and even less drama, but it still manages to feel like a man constructing a mighty tower of cards. Piece by piece, Kurosawa captures the meticulousness and logic behind a real investigation, and the pacing of the act never drags - it is a uniquely exciting way to slowly ramp up the tension for the inevitable showdown. It is methodical, but thanks to the first act, we develop sympathy and gratitude for the detectives devoting such energy to right a wrong. In this Limbo, there is little moral judgment, depending instead on facts and consequences to provide justice for the world.

Act III: Takeuchi (Hell)
At last we're led to the kidnapper's tale. Descending from the serene and calming heights of Gondo's mountaintop Heaven, we're led through the seedy Hell of Japan's dive bars, back alleys, and drug dens. Kurosawa misses an opportunity to explain Takeuchi's motives (although, through Takeuchi, Kurosawa himself admits he's "not interested in self-analysis"), but paints him as moral opposite to Gondo. Takeuchi, too, is machiavellian in his methods, but instead of succumbing to humanism, his entire scheme is predicated on jealousy and causing suffering. He wants to evict Gondo from his Heaven to join him in the Hell he considers his life. Another allegorical rebuke by Kurosawa, this time against the opulence of the upper class and the struggles of the lower. Coming from the villain, it is of lesser intensity and meaning than the one provided by Gondo's tale, but a valid one nonetheless.

In the end, Kurosawa provides an epilogue to marvel over - the three stories converge, and Gondo and Takeuchi meet face to face, with the glass and mesh of The Law between them. Heaven and Hell separated by Limbo. Like the story's fractal structure of three acts within three acts, Kurosawa doubles the structure again with the symbolism of the epilogue; face reflected on face, we're all human and, regardless of social status or upbringing, all that really matters is what side of the law we end up on. For a story about the extreme dichotomies of society, ethics, and the consequences of actions, the symmetry of the whole thing is astounding and astoundingly satisfying.