If asked to think of examples of unreliable narrators, some film buffs might point to the Japanese film Rashomon. This 1950 movie remains a pinnacle of engaging filmmaking to many, with a convoluted story so unanimously captivating that having multiple accounts of the same events that contradict each other is widely known now as the Rashomon Effect. What most people don’t know is that this film is based on two short stories by the father of the Japanese short story, Ryunosuke Akutagawa. Confusingly, one of those short stories is called “Rashomon,” but the other, “Yabu no Naka” (In a Grove), forms the main plot of the film. Published in 1922, In a Grove has been hailed as one of the first and most well-crafted examples of using modernist writing techniques to create an ambiguous story. A samurai is found murdered in a grove and seven testimonies are given that all contradict each other in some way. The effect is akin to a Möbius strip: trying to follow the chain of events only leaves you as baffled as you were to begin with.

Fast forward to seventy years later, when the controversial playwright David Mamet debuts Oleanna. The play has two characters: John, a professor at a U.S. university and Carol, one of his struggling students. It is set in John’s office. The first half of the play consists of Carol begging for help after failing an essay and John trying to motivate and teach her, while the second half comes as a complete shock as Carol files a complaint against John for sexual harassment. Oleanna was released in the wake of the Anita Hill-Clarence Thomas hearings, so the tension at the play’s performances ran high. A large reason for this is its ambiguity; despite watching the same scene unfold, some may take John’s side by the end, others Carol’s and many more wouldn’t be able to choose.

We can now see that both of these works question the objectivity of truth, but it’s also evident that they do so in different ways. As In a Grove progresses, we move from accounts from passersbys to the stories of the three people who were involved in the murder. Because the story consists entirely of testimonies, we never see the characters’ thoughts. Despite this, the three characters present at the murder — including the dead man — are revealed to be deceptive in distinct ways through how they speak. The bride faints at key moments in her account, which is a manifestation of her denial or desire to forget what she experienced. The dead samurai casts himself as a virtuous victim who committed suicide to protect his honor, which contradicts with the prior evidence of a struggle taking place and makes him “perhaps the story’s most untrustworthy narrator.” The main suspect mostly tries to aggrandize himself and give his actions a sense of nobility. At one interesting moment he turns on his interrogator: “Am I the only one who kills people? … You kill people with your power, with your money … It’s hard to say who is a greater sinner, you or me.” Even the integrity of the trial itself is called into question.

While we will never definitively know the events leading up to the murder in In a Grove, we see everything that happens between John and Carol in Oleanna. The conflicting perspectives here don’t come from lies, but from misunderstandings. Mamet’s dialogue is masterfully designed to balance words, tone and context to create seemingly simple exchanges that have no clear meaning.

In the first act, John puts his arm around Carol to console her and says that he will give her an A for the course if she comes to see him in his office more often. When asked why, he says that he likes her and wants to take down the artificial barriers between teacher and student. Simply stating the facts makes John seem undeniably predatory. However, when performed on stage it comes across as a compassionate and well-meaning attempt to help Carol.

The play transforms into a game of one-upmanship in the final act that further complicates where our sympathies should lie. Carol’s points on John’s pretentiousness and lack of empathy ring true, especially when we have seen how eager he usually is to interrupt her when she speaks. However, her offer to drop the charges of attempted rape if he bans certain books from his course shows her abuse of power. This back-and-forth is the bedrock of Oleanna’s complication of truth and when performed well, it creates an electric atmosphere. As Lucy Bailey, who directed a U.K. production of Oleanna last year described: “It’s like putting two people in a boxing match and watching them slug it out with each other.”

Another key to understanding these texts is to ask a question that should be asked of any piece of art: What does the author want the audience to think or feel? In the case of In a Grove, it is nearly impossible to sympathize with anybody because they may present themselves as benign or heroic, but somebody else undercuts that image later with their own testimony. Much analysis and criticism of this story seems to treat it as a whodunnit where the fun comes from figuring out who the killer is.

However, others have pointed out that there is more at stake within this narrative. It is possible to read the samurai and the bride as symbols of ancient Japanese traditions, especially considering that the bride is assaulted by the bandit and it is subsequently accepted that she has dishonored herself and her husband, whom she can no longer be with. In contrast, the bandit represents modern understandings of society and language: He kills and violates the symbols of tradition, uses language to make himself seem superior to others and questions the very system by which he is being tried. Akutagawa wrote many of his short stories during the ‘Taisho Period’, which is characterized by the introduction of democracy, increased popularity of feminism and leftism, westernization of culture and globalization of the economy in Japan, so it’s no wonder that the battle between tradition and modernity plays into his work. In this case, the effects of modernity on how we communicate and view the same events differently are examined.

Oleanna’s relevance to social issues is obvious, but unlike In a Grove, reactions to the play are often one-sided and visceral. In the final scene, John loses his temper and beats Carol up. In early performances, this was often accompanied by audience members cheering and yelling, “Kick her ass!”

I remember being strongly sympathetic to John’s side when I first read the play four years ago. However, after watching the film four years later, I am struck not just by how much more understanding I am of Carol, but by how certain I am that many more people would be on Carol’s side today than almost thirty years ago. Despite the confusing narrative of In a Grove and the provocative nature of Oleanna, I think that the tagline of Oleanna’s film adaptation sums up how to best look at both stories: “Whoever you choose, you’re wrong.”