Samurai Films (2 page)

The majority of samurai films are set in the Tokugawa period. Some involve clans that try to avoid destruction at the hands of the oppressive Tokugawa, and others present the Tokugawa in a more positive way, as brave men doing whatever it takes to preserve the peace. However, most of the films set in the Tokugawa period focus on the lives of individuals, in contrast to films set in the Sengoku period, which are often concerned with the epic histories of daimyo and their clans. One common theme is the plight of the samurai in a time of peace; what does one skilled at warfare do, when there are no wars? Many films set in the Tokugawa period describe the exploits of wandering ronin (masterless samurai), whose numbers were greatly increased during this time.

The term ‘samurai film’ is an invention of American film critics, and is rarely used in Japan. The Japanese prefer to group their films into two main genres,
jidaigeki
(which very roughly translates as ‘period drama’) and
gendaigeki
(films with a contemporary setting). Within these two genres are a huge selection of sub-genres, creating what is perhaps the most detailed cinema genre classification system in the world.

The
jidaigeki
films are often concerned with a very specific time in Japan’s history, the Tokugawa era (1603-1868), which was a time of relative peace for Japan after centuries of civil war. As period dramas, it is unsurprising that many (but not all)
jidaigeki
are concerned with the samurai and other sword-wielding warriors of Tokugawa-era Japan. Indeed,
jidaigeki
, which are mainly concerned with swordplay, have their own sub-genre,
chambara
or ‘sword drama’. Many of the films reviewed in this book could be correctly classified as
chambara
, but I cannot help but feel that this description doesn’t do them justice. There is, after all, a lot more to these films than sword fights.

These considerations make the samurai film quite a difficult genre to define, and for the purposes of this book a definition separate to those such as
jidaigeki
and
chambara
is required. Forming such a definition may seem easy at first; surely samurai films are simply films concerned with the samurai? Unfortunately this definition is a bit
too
simple. It excludes a great many films generally assumed to be of the samurai genre, such as the
Zatoichi
and
Lady Snowblood
series, whose main protagonists are of peasant birth rather than the samurai class. Perhaps it is easier to find a common theme or motif among the films. Swordplay would seem to be a safe bet. Surely all samurai films include swordplay? Again, this is problematic. The true samurai film deals with more than just swordplay. Indeed, some samurai films contain very little action at all.

It is, more accurately, what goes on behind the swordplay that best defines the samurai film. More specifically, samurai films are concerned with the problems and dilemmas (both internal and external) of the warrior, of the one who is skilled at performing violent acts. The true samurai film forces its protagonist into situations where either they or the audience (or both) learn something new about the status of the individual as killer. Whether it’s Kambei from
Seven Samurai
learning that he, and all other samurai, will eventually fade from history, or Sanjuro or Zatoichi, deciding that a life without killing would be better, but not knowing how to achieve that goal, the samurai film is concerned with the learning journey of the warrior.

Added to this is the iconography and setting of the samurai film. Pre-industrial Japan, usually the Tokugawa period (1603-1868), forms the setting. This allows for intrigue among the samurai in the larger cities and castles, or bloody battles between ronin (wandering masterless samurai) and yakuza (criminal gangs) in the smaller towns and villages. The iconography consists of a variety of things, but perhaps most important is the sword: the essential instrument of the warrior. The distinctive appearance of the Japanese sword or
katana
will forever be associated with the samurai film and, together with the pre-industrial Japanese setting and warrior’s learning journey, goes a long way towards defining it.

Like many cultures, the Japanese have a rich tradition of the depiction of nature in their art. However, unlike most cultures, this tradition made the transition into the cinema, and is a dominant aspect of many Japanese films. As such, many samurai films contain long, beautiful scenes of the distinctive Japanese landscape, something most noticeable in the breathtaking work of Akira Kurosawa and Hiroshi Inagaki. As Patrick Galloway
*
has pointed out, these depictions of nature are often symbolic, and tap into an artistic language which is familiar to Japanese audiences, but not to international viewers. For example, falling cherry blossoms are often symbolic of the way death can strike suddenly and unexpectedly. These symbols are not crucial to enjoying the films, but, if understood, will enrich the viewer’s experience. As such, a little research on Japanese artistic traditions can be immensely rewarding.

The word
ninjo
refers to the more emotional feelings of human beings, sentiments such as sympathy, love and the emotional decisions we make governing what is right and wrong.
Giri
means duty to your superiors. For the samurai, who was supposed to be unquestionably obedient, the giri/ninjo conflict is particularly important. What if he is ordered to do something which goes against his conscience, or threatens someone he has an emotional attachment to? He is supposed to obey without question, but this is much easier said than done… The giri/ninjo conflict is a constant theme in the samurai film, and one which makes for some very dramatic and compelling plots. I haven’t included the giri/ninjo conflict as part of my definition of the genre, simply because it isn’t present in all of the films; there are a great many samurai films where the protagonist is no longer (or never has been) governed by giri, thus preventing any conflict with their emotional impulses.

The most internationally famous and acclaimed Japanese director, Akira Kurosawa is the master filmmaker responsible for some of the finest films ever made. He started his film career for Toho as a writer and assistant director in 1936, and worked his way up to the position of director. Beginning with the excellent
Rashomon
, Kurosawa made one classic film after the other, throughout the 1950s and 60s. These films were immensely appealing to international audiences, and this led to Kurosawa being criticised in his own country for making ‘un-Japanese’ films, designed to appeal to foreigners eager for orientalism. Kurosawa vigorously protested these criticisms, and rightly so. While he was more influenced by sources outside of Japan (such as Shakespeare and John Ford) than other Japanese directors, his films were also carefully constructed around Japanese artistic conventions. It is perhaps this combination of influences that makes Kurosawa’s work so entertaining and accessible to world audiences.

Kurosawa’s films are often moving stories about the individual, told with beautiful cinematography. In his long career, the Emperor, as he was nicknamed, proved he could make high-quality films in any genre. Whether it was romantic dramas like
Scandal,
medical dramas like
Red
Beard
or cop films such as
Stray
Dog
, Kurosawa always excelled, creating instant classics.

Kurosawa’s influence on samurai films cannot be overstated. His wonderful
Seven Samurai
signified a new type of film for the genre, and the immensely successful
Yojimbo
and
Sanjuro
were such influential films that they completely transformed the genre in the 1960s.

Another major Toho Studios director, Hiroshi Inagaki’s work is also quite well known internationally. Inagaki specialised in historical epics, telling the stories of famous samurai and daimyo from times past. He excelled in the epic filmmaking that such projects required, as evidenced by films including
Samurai Trilogy
,
The 47 Ronin
and
Samurai Banners
. Inagaki was also very adept at filming large-scale battles, utilising great numbers of extras. His films are impressive for their epic scale, but also have a simple elegance about them.

A director famous for his distinctly anti-authoritarian films, Masaki Kobayashi made some of the most harrowingly honest samurai films; unlike many of his contemporaries, Kobayashi was much less sentimental about bushido, and was unafraid to show the potential for cruelty in the samurai’s code of unquestioning loyalty and obedience. His films are usually concerned with the individual’s struggle against corrupt authority, and never fail to be compelling viewing.

Drafted into the Japanese army during World War Two, Kobayashi served in Manchuria. He disapproved strongly of the war, and constantly refused promotion in the military. As the war came to an end, Kobayashi spent a year as a P.O.W. When back in Japan he returned to work for Shochiku Studios, utilising his wartime experiences to make
The Human
Condition
trilogy, which told the harrowing story of a pacifist drafted into the Japanese army during World War Two. These films made Tatsuya Nakadai famous, and Kobayashi and Nakadai would continue to work together in a very successful partnership.

Unfortunately, Kobayashi’s anti-authoritarian themes were not popular with Shochiku Studios, a very conservative company. Although a very talented director, Kobayashi made only 22 films.

Although not as influential as the work of Akira Kurosawa, Kobayashi’s samurai films are distinct for their honesty and lack of sentimentalism;
Hara-kiri
especially shows the cruel realities of the bushido code. They are not only distinct in thematic content, but also for their extremely high quality. His direction is always sublime, and his choice of subject matter compelling and moving. His
Hara-kiri
and
Samurai
Rebellion
rank alongside the work of Kurosawa as two of the finest samurai films ever made.

Hideo Gosha originally worked in television, starting as a reporter with Nippon Television in 1953. He eventually secured a position as a director and producer with Fuji Television, where he created a series of successful action TV shows during the 1950s. One of these shows,
Three Outlaw Samurai
, impressed Shochiku Studios so much that they hired Gosha to make a feature-length version. Gosha continued to work with Shochiku Studios, directing many films throughout the 1960s and 70s, mainly of the samurai and yakuza (gangster) genres.

As Patrick Galloway has noted, Gosha blended elements of Kurosawa and Kobayashi’s films with his fast-paced TV-style direction, to create a unique style of his own. This results in highly entertaining films, distinct from those of other master directors. Gosha’s films are tremendous, and a wonderful addition to the samurai film genre.

Unfortunately, although famous and much loved in Japan, Gosha’s films are yet to be widely available elsewhere, unlike the other directors profiled here. At the time of writing the Criterion release of
Sword of the
Beast
on DVD is the only example of a large distributor with a Gosha film in their catalogue. This is a terrible shame, as Gosha’s films are of a very high quality, and would be thoroughly enjoyed by international audiences.
Three Outlaw Samurai
,
Hunter in the Dark
and
Bandits vs
.
Samurai Squadron
are all available (with English subtitles) from importers, who source their stock from Asian distributors. Unfortunately, the quality of these DVDs is often inferior to those of the larger distributors (such as the Criterion Collection in the USA or Eastern Eye in Australia), but on the plus side they are a lot cheaper. It is definitely worth tracking these films down.

Like Masaki Kobayashi, Kihachi Okamoto was drafted into the Japanese army during World War Two, an experience which undoubtedly had an effect on his films in later years.

Beginning work for Toho Studios in 1947, Okamoto slowly worked his way up the ladder, directing his first film in 1958. Although he showed skill in directing films of various genres, Okamoto began to specialise in action films. He had a special talent for action scenes, which he was able to inject with a wonderful sense of rhythm and pacing, without over-stylising the violence.

Like Kobayashi, Okamoto was sceptical of the bushido code in his samurai films, but not in Kobayashi’s anti-authoritarian way. Okamoto’s films focus more on the individual, rather than the individual vs. authority. His samurai films often resemble cautionary tales, showing the ultimately negative and self-destructive results of leading a violent lifestyle. The best examples of this are the very gritty
Samurai Assassin
and
Sword of Doom
and the black comedy,
Kill
!
. Okamoto’s films combine his well-paced direction with moving subject matter, creating a result which clearly places him among the best samurai film directors.