Samurai Films (10 page)

Like The
Tale of Zatoichi Continues
,
New Tale of Zatoichi
contains a plethora of terrific fight scenes. Katsu is at his sword-swinging best, this time fighting not only yakuza, but a nasty group of itinerant ronin, the Tengu group. The duel at the film’s conclusion between Zatoichi and Banno is swift and unpredictable, creating an evocative atmosphere; for a few tense moments it’s impossible to know who has won.

The Zatoichi series just gets better and better. With the third film, the series was really getting into its stride, presenting a likeable, morally conflicted hero, and a host of wonderfully executed fight scenes.
New
Tale of Zatoichi
is a great way to introduce yourself to the series (there’s no need to have seen the first two films) and it’s a good representation of the series as a whole. A real treat for those interested in Zatoichi and samurai films in general.

Shiba, a wandering ronin, helps some peasants who are being overtaxed by their cruel magistrate. Jinbei, the leader of the peasants, has captured Aya, the magistrate’s daughter, and hopes to exchange her for a reduction in taxes. Shiba helps the peasants against the magistrate and his men, who attack the old mill where Aya is held. Sakura, a ronin sent by the magistrate, decides to join the peasant side. The hostage situation is finally broken when some ronin hired by the magistrate kidnap Yasu, the daughter of Gasaku, one of the peasants in the mill. Although Yasu kills herself, hoping that her father won’t give in, Shiba and the others are drawn out of the mill, and Aya is returned to her father. Shiba strikes a bargain with the magistrate, accepting punishment for the peasants’ crimes: 100 lashes, on the condition that there are no other retributions. The magistrate does not keep his word: he tortures Shiba and has three of the peasants killed by his ronin. Kikyo, one of the magistrate’s samurai, disapproves of his treachery and helps Sakura and Aya, who has grown to love Shiba, free him. The magistrate sends some of his samurai after Kikyo, and this forces him to join Shiba’s side. Shiba and Kikyo have a showdown with the most skilled swordsmen in the magistrate’s clan. Although bribed to leave by the magistrate, Sakura arrives to help his friends, and they are victorious. Despite his best efforts, Shiba cannot convince the terrified peasants to take their complaints to the magistrate’s daimyo. Enraged, he goes to kill the magistrate, but is stopped by Aya’s pleading for his life. The three outlaws leave, travelling the road together.

Three Outlaw Samurai
is the first film of Hideo Gosha, a talented director who would go on to make many memorable samurai films. It’s actually adapted from a TV series that Gosha directed, and he shows his considerable talent for cinema in his first feature-length project.

Gosha’s primary concern here is telling an exciting and entertaining story, and he draws on his earlier experience as a director for television to well and truly deliver. As Patrick Galloway has pointed out, Gosha’s TV-style direction imbues his films with a fast, rhythmic pace and a sense of immediacy that clearly sets him apart from other samurai film directors. Gosha tends not to use static scenic shots, like Kurosawa and Inagaki did to great effect throughout their careers, but instead relies on a rapid progression of lively scenes. This pacing and rhythm imbues Gosha’s films with a life of their own, giving the impression of a story that’s constantly in motion.

The plot of the film is one of its finest strengths. A fairly simple tale about three ronin helping peasants against a cruel magistrate, the plot has clearly defined good guys and bad guys, yet pits them against each other in interesting ways. The hostage situation at the beginning of the film, and the horrible way it’s ultimately resolved, makes for compelling viewing, as do the scenes in which the ronin and the peasants are confronted by the magistrate’s brutal, hired thugs.

Three Outlaw Samurai
shares some similarities in both tone and plot with Kurosawa’s immensely successful
Yojimbo
and
Sanjuro
. Indeed, as both Alain Silver and Patrick Galloway have pointed out, Gosha likes to quote these and other films in his work. However, rather than try to copy the darkly comedic tone of these films, Gosha creates a different, though no less satisfying, feeling. His characters are not such extreme anti-heroes as Sanjuro, because they are not as callous about the loss of human life. Shiba helps the peasants out of a desire to prevent bloodshed, rather than a wish to inflict it on evil men, which is one of Sanjuro’s motivations in
Yojimbo
. Similarly, it is hard to imagine Sanjuro showing the mercy Shiba does at the end of the film, or being as guilty about a single death as Sakura is. In many respects, this makes Gosha’s heroes much easier to relate to than Kurosawa’s anti-heroes. Rather than the dark comedy that’s employed by Kurosawa, Gosha creates a tone of camaraderie between his three, very likeable central characters, which extends to the audience.

These three central heroes are very well cast. Tetsuro Tamba, with his chiselled jaw and stern delivery, is perfect as the morally heroic Shiba, a man who sticks to his principles no matter what. Isamu Nagato plays the slightly more flawed, and thus comic, Sakura, who not only provides occasional humour but also drama. Mikijiro Hira is the slightly ambiguous Kikyo; with just the right amount of inscrutability, we’re unsure which side he will ultimately take right up to the point he actually makes his decision. These three central characters, the three outlaws of the title, are the driving force behind Gosha’s film and the end result is a credit both to the script and their talent.

The three outlaws: Shiba (Tetsuro Tamba), Kikyo (Mikijiro Hira) and Sakura (Isamu Nagato).
Three Outlaw Samurai
directed by Hideo Gosha and produced by Ginichi Kishimoto and Tetsuro Tamba for Shochiku Studios.

 

Gosha shows right from the beginning that he has a great aptitude for directing battle scenes. Like the rest of the film, these fights have a wonderful sense of rhythm and pacing, yet never seem overly stylised. The film’s finale, in which the three heroes do battle with skilled warriors from the magistrate’s clan, is beautifully constructed, and Tamba, Nagato and Hira prove to be every bit as fun to watch cleaving through their enemies as Shintaro Katsu or Toshiro Mifune. Nagato is particularly entertaining as Sakura, enthusiastically swinging a spear rather than a sword.

With this terrific first film, Gosha earned himself a place alongside the other masters of the samurai film. Essential viewing.

A group of samurai plan to assassinate Li Naosuke, a daimyo and Elder of the Shogunate. Known as the Mito Tengu group, these conspirators are made up of samurai from clans which came off badly in a power struggle against Li, which led to many of their comrades being executed. Thus far, Li has been able to avoid the Tengu group, who believe there’s a traitor in their ranks and begin to observe two ronin in their group, Niiro and Kurihara. Niiro doesn’t know who his parents are; his mother, a concubine, told him he was of samurai blood, but refused to name his father. Looked after by Kisoya, a wealthy merchant, Niiro was trained as a samurai, but became a ronin when his request to marry a princess was denied by her daimyo father. Enraged, Niiro abandoned his studies and began life as a ruffian, all the while dreaming of becoming a samurai. He joins the Mito Tengu in the hope that if he kills Li he will be employed by one of the clans that hates him. Kurihara turns out to have a connection to Li through his wife, and Niiro is ordered to kill him. Despite being good friends with Kurihara, Niiro kills him, and is then angered to discover that Kurihara was not the traitor at all. The Tengu group discover that Niiro’s father is in fact Li, and they attempt to have him killed. Niiro survives and arrives the next morning to attack Li. In a violent battle, most of the Tengu group and Li’s entourage are killed, but Niiro succeeds in beheading Li, unaware that he has killed his father.

Samurai Assassin
is a film rich with irony, suspense and violence. Directed by Kihachi Okamoto, who also made the thoroughly entertaining
Sword of Doom
and
Kill
!
,
Samurai Assassin
is without doubt a standout samurai film.

The rich vein of irony that runs through
Samurai Assassin
is by far the film’s most distinguishing feature. If you’ve skipped the above plot summary hoping not to spoil the film, then I suggest you stop reading this analysis, and see
Samurai Assassin
as soon as you can. Unfortunately, it is impossible to discuss this film without referring to some of the revelations contained within the plot.

Niiro Tsuruchiyo is so desperate to become an employed samurai that he joins a group of conspirators, who seek to kill Li Naosuke, a daimyo who has earned the ire of several clans. Li turns out to be Niiro’s father, who could potentially make him a samurai, but Niiro, ignorant of this and desperate to impress the other clans, brutally kills Li. Furthermore, Li is the only man holding the Shogunate government together; without him, it will collapse, taking with it the samurai class. Niiro is completely unaware of the self-destructive nature of his actions, and there is a delicious sense of irony to this plot, which stays with the viewer for some time after the film. The scene of Niiro triumphantly staggering along, with Li’s head on the end of his sword, is not only disturbing, but also strangely satisfying, as it serves to cement the ironic tone of
Samurai 
Assassin
. Like all good tragedies, we know how this film is going to end, and like many samurai films,
Samurai Assassin
doesn’t take the easy road with a happy ending. As we are left with the image of Niiro with his father’s head on the end of his sword, we can only wonder at what will happen to him when he discovers the truth of what he has done.

Okamoto’s direction in
Samurai Assassin
is of the high standard that fans have come to expect of him, especially in the battle scenes. The epic and extremely gory battle at the end of the film has got to be one of the finest in the genre. It begins with rapidly cut shots of the conspirators preparing themselves for the arrival of Li’s entourage. They perform fast actions, checking swords, shutting umbrellas and kicking their sandals off – creating an impression of tension and anticipation. Once the battle actually starts, Okamoto spares no blood. The screen is filled with flailing bodies, striking at each other any way they can, covered in their own blood and that of their enemies. This all takes place on a thick cover of snow, which is quickly stained a dark colour. Snow falling from the sky also obscures the audience’s view, creating a sense of chaotic confusion, which is suitable for the frenetic scenes taking place. Niiro’s beheading of Li is particularly gory, with blood literally filling the entire screen.

Samurai Assassin
combines a richly ironic plot with one of the most well-constructed battle scenes in the entire genre. This and
Sword of
Doom
are Okamoto at his best.