Samurai Films (5 page)

The battle scenes in this film are very effective. Interestingly, many of them appear to have been filmed in studio lots, rather than on location, as was the case for many scenes in
Miyamoto Musashi
. However, Inagaki makes use of the studio setting to inject some mood into the scenes, through the use of wind machines and effective lighting. A good example of this is the duel Musashi has at the beginning of the film, which takes place on a windy plain at night, an atmosphere created well in the studio environment; the battle itself is extremely tense and ends abruptly and unpredictably. The choreography of the battle scenes is also of a high standard, both fast and unpredictable. The film’s climax – Musashi’s battle with the 80 Yoshioka students – is also handled very well, and in a realistic manner. It is believable that Musashi could have defeated the 80 men, particularly when we see him venture into a rice paddy, in which his enemies are slowed down by the marsh-like conditions and forced to attack him one at a time.

Although very different to the first entry in the
Samurai Trilogy
,
Duel at
Ichijoji
Temple
is a very well-made film. Inagaki uses simple but effective techniques to present an entertaining story, offering interesting insights into the world of the warrior and some very well-choreographed battle scenes.

The story of Miyamoto Musashi continues… Musashi’s reputation as a formidable samurai has spread, and Lord Yagyu, fencing instructor to the Shogun, invites him to Edo. Meanwhile Kojiro has also travelled to Edo and manages to secure a position with Hosokawa, a daimyo. Finding Musashi, Kojiro challenges him to a duel which Musashi first agrees to, and then postpones, explaining that he needs first to take a journey. Musashi, and his students, Jotaro and Kumagoro, journey to a small village which they help protect from bandits. Musashi rediscovers village life and enjoys it, no longer craving fame and fortune. The two women who love him, Otsu and Akemi, find Musashi at the village, and quickly renew their animosity. In a struggle, they accidentally light a fire, which draws bandits to the village. Akemi dies protecting Otsu, and Kumagoro is slain before the bandits are driven away. Musashi receives word from Kojiro that he is growing impatient for their duel and he leaves the village, despite Otsu begging him not to. The duel takes place at Ganryu island. Kojiro fights bravely, but is ultimately defeated by Musashi’s superior skill. Realising Kojiro is the greatest swordsman he will ever face, Musashi weeps at the loss of such a man from the world.

Samurai 3
: Duel on Ganryu Island
is a fitting end to Hiroshi Inagaki’s
Samurai Trilogy
. Inagaki combines his use of effective cinematography with a compelling story and well-choreographed battle scenes.

This film charts the final stages of Miyamoto Musashi’s development; he is no longer obsessed with fame and instead has become the ultimate samurai, one who is more than simply strong and craves only to be the best he can at his chosen art. Developing his persona further, Musashi now prefers to settle matters peacefully, avoiding unnecessary violence on a few occasions throughout the film, most notably when he placates some angry thugs by swiftly plucking flies from the air with a pair of chop-sticks, intimidating them with his speed and accuracy. Musashi is contrasted to Kojiro, who is very ambitious, and seeks to make his reputation in the bloodiest way possible. The progression of Musashi’s character over the trilogy sets each film clearly apart, and avoids the repetition of themes present in other film series.

With
Duel on Ganryu Island
, Hiroshi Inagaki again takes the opportunity to utilise some grand scenery, giving specific scenes an epic backdrop. The opening scene of Kojiro standing in front of a waterfall, a rainbow clearly visible in the mist, is a spectacular image. When we have finished admiring it, Inagaki quickly presents us with the sinister juxtaposition of Kojiro’s cruelty (to Akemi and an unfortunate swallow). Similarly, the tense and protracted duel between Musashi and Kojiro takes place on a beach at sunrise, and has as its backdrop a striking image of the sun over the water; even in its more brutal moments, Inagaki’s film has a certain elegance and beauty.

The performances achieve the typically high standard of the entire
Samurai Trilogy
. Koji Tsuruta is especially good as Kojiro, given many more opportunities to shine here than in the second film, where he appeared in only a few scenes. Tsuruta skilfully captures the sinister edge to Kojiro’s character, giving a convincing impression of a man who craves the recognition that defeating Musashi would bring.

The film’s climactic moment, the duel between Musashi and Kojiro, is handled particularly well. Mifune and Tsuruta both bring a level of intensity to this scene, which along with Inagaki’s direction creates a tense atmosphere. Inagaki cuts between shots of Musashi and then Kojiro, showing the determination on each man’s face. When the two actually clash, this is shown through quick cuts accompanied by the sound of the weapons meeting. Words do not do this sequence justice. It is one of the greatest duels in any samurai film, a befitting reconstruction of one of the most famous duels in Japanese history.

Samurai 3
: Duel on Ganryu Island
is a highly satisfying conclusion to the
Samurai Trilogy
. In the fulfilment of Musashi’s learning journey, we glean a lot about the ideals of the samurai. Inagaki’s epic direction makes the entire trilogy essential viewing for any fan of samurai films.

A daimyo’s two finest samurai, Washizu and Miki, meet a spirit, which predicts they will both receive promotions and that Washizu will eventually become the new daimyo of the castle, succeeded by Miki’s son. To their amazement, the first prediction becomes true and both Washizu and Miki are promoted to higher positions, each put in charge of an important fort. When Washizu’s wife, Asaji, hears of the prediction, she urges him to fulfil the prophecy by murdering the daimyo. Although reluctant at first, Washizu performs the murder, and is nearly driven mad by guilt. Washizu and Asaji frame another samurai, Noriyasu, for the murder, who flees with the young prince. Washizu appoints Miki’s son as his successor, securing his support, but changes his mind when Asaji tells him she is pregnant. Washizu orders some of his men to kill Miki and his son, and although Miki is slain, his son escapes. As Washizu is gradually driven mad by his deeds, his enemies begin to move against him. Noriyasu, the prince and Miki’s son have allied themselves to Inui, a rival daimyo, and are marching on the castle. Worried, Washizu visits the spirit again, who assures him that he will not be defeated unless Spider Web Wood, the thick forest surrounding the castle, marches on him. Washizu is buoyed by confidence, and tells his men of the prophecy. When they see the moving forest, which Noriyasu and his men have cut down and are using as camouflage, they kill Washizu, hoping to surrender him to his enemies.

Throne of Blood
is an excellent adaptation of Shakespeare’s
Macbeth,
which benefits from superb direction by Akira Kurosawa. Shakespeare’s dark tale proves to be a perfect match for Kurosawa’s atmospheric storytelling. Kurosawa and his staff of writers make quite a few changes to Shakespeare’s tale, but the same basic story of a man undone by his own ambition is present in the film, and the many inspired scenes in
Throne of Blood
, particularly those at the end, would never have been filmed if Kurosawa had stuck strictly to the original story.

The most outstanding aspect of
Throne of Blood
is Kurosawa’s use of cinematic techniques to create atmosphere. The film opens with a view of a fog-shrouded plain. We hear the slow deliberate lyrics of a Japanese song, lamenting man’s inability to escape ambition and violence. Through the fog, a memorial comes into view, revealing that a castle once stood here. The memorial is engulfed in thick fog, which slowly clears to reveal the castle, back in the time when it still stood. This has to be one of the greatest beginnings to a samurai film, or, for that matter,

any film. Kurosawa captures the themes of Shakespeare’s play in a few evocative images, and catapults us into his film; we already know the castle is doomed to be destroyed, a fate which, we later discover, will be shared by the film’s tragic central character.

Spider Web Castle.
Throne of Blood
directed by Akira Kurosawa and produced by Sojiro Motoki and Akira Kurosawa for Toho Studios.

 

Kurosawa continues this highly evocative use of images and sound throughout his film. The scene in which Washizu and Miki meet the spirit is particularly creepy; the spirit sits, completely pale, and doesn’t move, except to continually weave silk on a Japanese spinning wheel. The interior of the spirit’s hovel is also completely white, and the whole scene is bathed in a white light which gives it a stark appearance, like the billowing fog or the bleached bones we see a moment later. Similarly, the sounds of Washizu’s wife, Asaji, as she moves are sinister, the impression intensified when it becomes clear just how ruthless she is. The way her kimono makes a quiet shuffling sound as she moves across the bare boards of her home grows increasingly chilling throughout the early moments of the film. When Asaji fetches some poisoned sake, we see her disappear into a darkened room, vanishing into the darkness. The sounds of her kimono dragging on the floor grow quieter and then slowly louder as she returns, sake pot in hand, walking straight towards the camera.

Washizu (Toshiro Mifune) under attack.
Throne of Blood
directed by Akira Kurosawa and produced by Sojiro Motoki and Akira Kurosawa for Toho Studios.

 

Kurosawa’s evocative direction is coupled with one of Toshiro Mifune’s most memorable performances. In his leading role as Washizu, Mifune presents a picture of a man slowly going mad; from his stunned, statue-like appearance after he has killed his lord, through his manic confidence, to his despair at the film’s end, Mifune’s performance is an unnerving portrayal of a man who loses everything to ambition. Isuzu Yamada is also unnervingly convincing in her role as Asaji. She is cold and inexpressive in many of her scenes, as she encourages her husband to murder first his lord, and then his closest friend. Ultimately, she too succumbs to the horror of what she and her husband have done, and Yamada portrays this well, in the classic
Macbeth
hand-washing scene.