The Japanese sure do like reboots. For whatever reason, they seem to accept them much more readily than US audiences do, although we’re really getting on the bandwagon these days with a new take on Spiderman right on the heels of a dismal Broadway overproduction and a trilogy of films, only one of which was worth a second viewing. The Zatoichi series is even bigger than Spiderman in Japan, of course, so it’s no big surprise that filmmakers have been coming up with new takes on the blind swordsman since the demise of the original Ichi, Shintaro Katsu in 1997. Takeshi Kitano’s film was a fun excursion in chanbara from the Japanese funny man, and I think it was accepted largely because it was so different. Kitano was definitely trying not to be Katsu’s Ichi. Then came the female version, simply titled Ichi, which, while beautiful to watch, was somewhat overplayed by all involved. Now, we have Zatoichi: The Last, the 2010 film by Junji Sakamoto.
I’m not sure what Sakamoto and the screenwriter(s), who aren’t credited on IMDB, had in mind here, but the result is a mess. I believe there’s an okay film in there somewhere, but the final edit leaves a lot to be desired. We begin with a married Ichi declaring that he’s off to his final fight, only to have his wife killed in a mishap. Instead of seeking revenge, he returns to his childhood home only to sort of become involved in a village dispute with an evil oyabun. While the latter plot will be familiar to anyone who’s seen even a single Z film from the past, the whole wife angle changes the character considerably. Instead of being a wandering masseur, he is now a broken family man. After his loss, Ichi becomes depressed and withdrawn. To say this film is humorless is an understatement. Sadly, it’s also saddled with a narrative that’s strangely difficult to follow in this cut. Since Ichi is no longer cast as a man of action, we don’t get much of a chance to root for him in this overly long exercise in tedium.
I don’t really get the title, since it seems that this script may have originally been conceived as an origin story of sorts. If it had been that, I could see where it could have succeeded. Just imagine the story of a young, married, Ichi who works for the yakuza as an assassin, then gives up that life only to have his family ripped away. In his search for revenge he could have emerged from his cocoon of pain with a better understanding of himself and a desire to change his ways and help to defend others. Ichi is born and strides off into the sunset to become Shintaro Katsu’s generous and helpful blind masseur of old. It’s too bad they didn’t go this way. It might have given this film a backbone. Instead we just get cinematic pablum that has some of the trappings of the old Zatoichi films but none of the heart.
The problems with the script are exacerbated by the bizarre portrayal of Ichi by Shingo Katori of the boy band, SMAP. I could care less about his background if he were either an excellent actor or perfect for the role of Ichi, but alas he is neither. I never thought of Ichi as a handsome young man that’s a clumsy hack with a sword, but that’s the Ichi we’re given here. It’s almost as if Katori couldn’t handle the combat training so they tried to cut around his inabilities. Okay, fair enough, but why does he look like he straining on the toilet in every single closeup? He’s simply trying way too hard for this to have been crafted into a decent performance. Every time he was stumbling and sliding around I found myself wishing for the cool, confident demeanor of Katsu’s Ichi.
The cinematography here is the one place where this film exceeds the originals, but that’s largely a factor of technological advances and bigger budgets. Technically, ZTL is excellent, but so are Battlefield Earth and Waterworld.
If you’re curious about this film, give it a spin. I expect most won’t make it through the first hour. Instead, I’d recommend going back and experiencing the Katsu series of films from the very beginning. If you want something more modern, the Takeshi Kitano version is very good too. Unfortunately, Zatoichi: The Last is not recommended.
After watching Lady Snowblood 2, it’s fairly easy to see why there was never a Lady Snowblood 3. It isn’t that the film is terrible. It’s just that it’s fairly bland AND it isn’t much like the first movie. I believe the first film was intended to end with Yuki’s death and greed made the studio choose to have her inexplicably resurrected at the end.
This film begins with the oddly casual butchering of a group of pursuers as Yuki (AKA Lady Snowblood) walks along a forest path. There’s a little exposition provided by a narrator and we’re off. Trouble is, there isn’t much to get Yuki worked up, unless she’s pissed off about the terrible narration that was tacked onto her film. In the first movie, she’s out to avenge her parents who died unjustly. That’s a pretty good motivator and one we, as an audience, can fully get behind. But now that they’re avenged, what is there to do?
In LS2, Yuki is captured and threatened with execution for the murders she’s committed, but her execution is stayed by a crooked Meiji-era politico who wants her to act as an assassin for him. Yuki eventually agrees to the undercover mission, but her motives are never clear. She eventually goes over to the other side, but only after being discovered trying to fulfill the mission she was given. Huh? Like in all bad plots, the characters in this film just jump around according to the screenwriters wishes and none of their motivations seem to come from within. It really felt like Yuki was shoehorned into some other movie about Meiji era politics.
Production values are all over the map. For a movie made in 1974, this certainly looks too much like a 60s Hammer picture. Director Toshiya Fujita is once again too fond of his wide angled lens. Many of the shots have characters positioned at the edges of the frame. They fall completely out of focus even when they’re delivering dialog! I realize this wasn’t a big budget movie, but that’s inexcusable.
Scenery is excellent, as is usually the case in these sorts of Japanese films. There’s so many cool locations that sets are mostly restricted to interiors. The shinto shrine is especially cool to see, but I wonder who was charged with cleaning all the blood up after filming was completed. Did the priests know that was what they were signing up for?
Makeup effects are atrocious. The rivers of blood are that Hammer horror opaque red of the 60s. Facial appliances appear to have been sculpted out of modelling clay the day of the shoot. In one shot, a man’s cheek is cut during an interrogation. While the actor tries to force the knife into the cheek appliance, you can see that the solid appliance is just glued to his cheek. Yikes! A couple of eye-gougings look better than that, but it’s often easier to make the big effects look real.
Sound doesn’t fare much better. The monaural soundtrack is dominated by hideous 70s music. Yes, I know it was the trend at the time, but it really did hinder my enjoyment of the film.
While there are some memorable fight sequences (the final fight at the shrine was especially good), I doubt I’ll ever want to see this one again. Not recommended.
I took a little time off from my pursuit of Zatoichi completion, and what better way to return than with the excellent Zatoichi #9? Adventures of Zatoichi (1964) is one of the best of the Z films I’ve seen. Not only is it a great entry in the series, but it’s also good enough to be a successful standalone film that newcomers to the franchise could embrace without knowing anything else about Ichi.
Directed with the subtle skills only an experienced director like Kimiyoshi Yasuda could bring to the table, Z9 is a delight on every level. I only wish that Yasuda had directed more entries in the series as his were always top notch. This film is even better than some of his others due to a very fine script by Shozaburo Asai. I’m not entirely certain how many of the screen stories really originated with the novels of Kan Shimozawa. My understanding is that Master Ichi is little more than a side character in his novel(s) so I doubt that very many of the film stories are directly attributable to Shimozawa. Nevertheless, he’s credited with “story” on most, if not all, of the movies. I’m sure that credit was a contractual point (film credits rarely reflect the real world work done) but it denigrates the real contributions made by writers like Asai. In this film, he crafts a cunning tale that winds thread after thread into a tapestry of plot points that eventually come together in a very satisfying way.
The film begins with Ichi, once again agreeing to do a favor for someone. You might think he’d figure out that these favors always end badly, but then we’d never have these great screen adventures, would we? Ichi’s willingness to help others even when he has an inkling that it will come to no good, is simply a big part of the character. He always wants to help, despite his blindness.
Once he’s at his destination, a small village governed by a corrupt overlord and his just as corrupt intendant, Ichi finds himself in the middle of a tangled web of revenge-seekers and opportunists just before the new year holiday. The new year celebration is the biggest holiday in Japan, largely due to the Shinto focus on purity and renewal, so it’s also the focus of many business people trying to make a buck, much like Christmas in the US.
The plot here isn’t all that different from the other Z films. What’s different is the clarity with which it’s presented and the care that’s taken to make the pacing work. Sword fights are few, but when they do occur they have much greater impact both on the characters and the story at hand. Eliminating some of the swordplay gives us more time to spend with Master Ichi and we’re actually given a small glimpse of his past. It isn’t much, but it’s moving and it makes us root for his success even more than usual.
The characters here are all masterfully developed even though their scripted lines may be minimal. I always felt like I knew who everyone was as I was watching. In some Z films, traffic control becomes an issue, but in Z9 the large cast of characters is well managed and no one is given short shrift. As always, Shintaro Katsu renders an amazing performance that’s helped by a script that actually gives him things to do.
The only down side to this movie is the literal darkness of some of the scenes. One of the more spectacular fights happens in moonlight and is practically wasted. I don’t know if this is the fault of a poor transfer or the fault of DP Shozo Honda, but since Honda shot 22 films in his career, I tend to blame the transfer.
Also of note is the music in Z9. Taichiro Kosugi’s score is wonderful, accenting the inner feelings of Ichi at all the key plot points. This may sound like a little thing, but it wasn’t always grasped by Japanese filmmakers. They often mimicked American and European film scores (and still do for that matter) without truly understanding the emotional underpinnings of European classical music. Kosugi was obviously an exception and I wish he’d been employed on other Z films. Sadly, this stands as his only Zatoichi score. I can only imagine the heights to which other films in the series could have soared with his contributions.
Overall, this is an exceptional film and possibly the best of the series (I’ll let you know once I’ve seen them all). Very highly recommended (and currently available on Hulu).
Toshiya Fujita’s 1973 film adaptation of the manga by Kazuo Koike is a real treat, but looking back on it now I can see how old school it must have seemed in the early seventies. Much like Hammer’s horror films, these sorts of pictures were becoming less and less relevant. And just like Hammer’s films, this 1973 production looks remarkably similar to the Zatoichi films that were made a decade before this one. Strange how quickly film technique and technology advanced during the early sixties, only to stagnate until George Lucas forced the issue in 1977.
While there are plenty of interesting visual ideas here, very few of them are presented well. The camera work is absolutely clumsy. Much of the film is shot using extreme wide angle lenses (I think – I’m no lens expert) that make pans looks positively psychedelic and characters at the edges of the screen look stretched. I’m sure that Fujita wanted widescreen, but this is no way to go about it. Oh, and speaking of psychedelic, there are a few weird, hippie, music cues that are hilarious. thank the kami these aren’t present throughout or they would have ruined the film completely.
It sounds like I hated it, huh? Well, I didn’t. In fact, I like Lady Snowblood quite a lot. For those who’ve never heard of it, the plot is pretty basic. A woman who’s been wronged on just about every level dies right after childbirth. The child is raised with one mission – to exact revenge for the wrongs done to her mother. She is trained by a Shinto priest (who’s hilariously referred to as the reverend in the subtitles) to be an efficient killer, then she sets out to get the job done by any means necessary. Sound familiar? It should. It’s the movie Kill Bill was based on. This isn’t as uber-produced as Kill Bill, but as revenge pictures go, it’s pretty good. There were obviously ambitions at work here that the budget couldn’t live up to, but the scenes in the snow really stand out. The visual motif of falling snow works wonderfully well and really wasn’t improved upon in the O-ren Ishii segment in Kill Bill. Many have speculated that Tanrantino’s O-ren IS Yuki, but I think it’s obvious that Yuki’s traits are evenly distributed between O-ren and the Bride in that version of the story, and make no mistake – it’s the exact same story, just finessed a little bit.
Much like O-ren’s back story, there are segments in Lady Snowblood that were just too hideously expensive to produce, so they’re presented in pseudo-storyboards and manga-style frames. While this does get the story points across, it’s an enormous Fail for this picture. If ever there were a movie that could stand a straight up reboot, it’s this one. Maybe Takeshi Kitano will remake it and play Yuki himself. For better or worse, I wouldn’t put it past him.
The performances here are all top notch, with some wonderful stunt work from the lovely Meiko Kaji as the title character (AKA-Yuki). She fights most often with a shikome-zui (single-edged cane sword) that is very similar to that of Zatoichi except for the fact that hers is hidden inside the handle of her paper parasol. Her fighting style is very similar to Zatoichi’s as well, which presses the question – was the character of Yuki essentially a female copy of Zatoichi or was it simply necessary for them to have similar swords since both had to keep their swords hidden at all times?
The disc is by AnimEigo and the transfer is okay. Nothing to write home about but nothing much to complain about either. The audio is the original monaural and it’s presented as well as can be expected for such material. Basically, the presentation didn’t wow me, but it didn’t get in the way either. There are no extras on the disc unless you count the handful of trailers. While I’m glad that someone stepped up and released this film (and its sequel), I wish that that someone had been Criterion. Maybe the source material isn’t up to their artistic standards. Whatever. I’m happy to be able to see these films at all. Recommended.
Like most Zatoichi movies, this one begins with Ichi hoofing it, hence the title. The original title in Japanese is literally translated as Zatoichi Fight This Week. That makes sense because of the big fight that’s arranged at the end of the film, but “On the Road?” That could refer to every single Zatoichi film out there. It’s a pity because, while these films are distinguishable, they are often hard to keep separate in my mind. Part of that is due to the generic English titling.
In this installment, Ichi has been invited to a yakuza boss’ home for an undisclosed reason. Since the messenger is providing for excellent food and quality lodging along the way, Ichi accepts. He doesn’t know that the boss wants to hire him as a mercenary to help him win a battle with a rival gang.
Before they reach their destination, Ichi and the yakuza messenger stumble onto a scene where a group of swordsmen are hunting down a man and a young woman. They kill the man but the girl manages to escape. As you may know by now if you’ve watched many of these films, when people die around Ichi, they often proclaim a dying wish so he’ll be honor-bound to oblige them. In this case, Ichi’s asked to help the girl get home to Edo.
The situation quickly gets complicated and, eventually, both gang leaders try to hire Ichi, using the girl as a pawn to persuade him. The whole situation builds until the final battle when Ichi solves the problem in his own, very satisfying, way.
I don’t usually delve deeply into plot details, but in this case I have because there’s little else to distinguish this entry from others in the series. There is one brief moment involving a dragonfly that approaches the level of visual poetry, but other than that, this is fairly straightforward storytelling. That’s not to say that the film isn’t enjoyable. It is. It’s just missing that extra layer of content that a master director like Takuzo Tanaka would have included. Kimiyoshi Yasuda directs On The Road, among several other Ichi films, and his direction is very zen in its simplicity. That’s not a terrible thing, but when the preceding film was a visually striking as it was, it makes this one seem somewhat simple. I am particularly fond of Yasuda’s direction of the Kaiju classic, Daimajin, so I’ll be looking forward to his subsequent attempts with Ichi.
Performances here are all crystal clear. I sometimes feel like the screenwriters are unsure what Ichi’s motivations are. In this film, he seems somewhat wishy washy in his convictions. He’s as much motivated by a good meal as he is by his desire to do the right thing. In the best of these films, Ichi stands firmly on the side of right, defending those who can’t defend themselves. Here, he just seems a little more self-serving.
This installment is definitely above average for a Zatoichi film, but I recommend it only if you find that you enjoy the series. If you’re only going to watch a couple of Ichi’s adventures, there are better ones to be had.
The fourth Zatoichi movie, Zatoichi the Fugitive, is another leap forward for the series. Even if there were no series at all and this were a standalone film, it would work very well. Director Takuzo Tanaka created a stunning example of how to make a Zatoichi film work.
The story begins with Ichi killing a man who attacks him on the road. It seems our friend Ichi has a price on his head again and the man is going for the bounty. Ichi, being the standup guy he always is, feels it’s his responsibility to inform the man’s family about his death. This sets into motion a clockwork series of overlapping events that all revolve around Ichi in some way. I don’t often go into great detail when it comes to plot but I don’t think I could explain this one succinctly if I wanted to. It’s positively Shakespearean in it’s complexities and yet every element remains lucid.
What’s cool about the story is that Ichi isn’t directly involved much of the time, but others use him to further their own agendas. This gives the peripheral characters more weight and pushes the tension level higher when we want Ichi to figure out everything that’s going on around him. By the time he does, unfortunately it’s too late for him to triumph personally, but such is the life of Ichi. He’s never really allowed to progress. In that way, this series is similar to the Bond films. The lead character can’t die but he also can’t improve his life in any lasting way. The films are more about the characters that surround Ichi. His life remains somewhat tragic, a fact that’s hinted at in the final frames of this movie.
This is one of the first times that we learn about Ichi’s past. In this film, he encounters a long lost love, who he affectionately calls Tane. She’s a beautiful woman who is now with a masterless samurai who presents an interesting counterpoint to Ichi. How the homeless, blind swordsman continuously attracts the most beautiful women in Japan is beyond me, but I suspect it has something to do with his being the star of the film.
Much like Zatoichi’s Vengeance, another entry directed by Tanaka, the themes of the script are illustrated visually throughout. The abandoned inn where the young Nobu grew up is an excellent metaphor for the characters’ nostalgia and the erosion created by the passage of time. Ichi returns to this location for several key scenes and it really adds to the thematic content as well as the production values of the film.
While there’s a brief fight scene near the beginning of the film to set things in motion, Tanaka and screenwriter Seiji Hoshikawa don’t rush to the fights. They take their time and set up the characters and plot elements one by one so that when things come to a head later, the fights make sense and carry an emotional weight.
The last section of the movie involves a large battle royal that is followed by a one on one duel between Ichi and the ronin. Both fights are breathtaking in the clarity of purpose of the characters involved and they’re very exciting to watch.
This installment of the series comes very highly recommended!
You’d think that a 9+ hour miniseries would have enough time to present the entire contents of a novel, but when that novel is James Clavell’s 1100 page opus, Shogun, you’d be wrong. There’s so much that’s problematic with the idea of bringing Clavell’s novel to the screen that I’m shocked that NBC execs gave it a green light back in 1980. Foremost is the language barrier. In the book, we read the character’s thoughts. We know what they’re saying even if the other characters can’t understand them. Most of the characters are Japanese and most of the Japanese don’t speak any English or Portugese. Even though the book was written in English, I don’t believe many characters speak English to one another. They speak Dutch, Portugese, Japanese, and even Latin. The decision was made to present the Japanese language without subtitles in the series, thereby making the audience feel much like the protagonist. This sort of thing doesn’t usually make an executive producer’s eyes turn into dollar signs, but it got produced somehow, and it was one of the highest rated shows in NBC history!
The story is rich even though it’s a pale shadow of the complexities presented in the novel. John Blackthorne, played here by Richard Chamberlain, lands in Japan after weathering a storm on the Dutch freighter, Erasmus in 1600. Despite being seen as a barbarian, he is eventually declared samurai and hatamoto to leige lord, Toranaga. There are many twists and turns to the elaborate plot, many of which are about the influx of Catholicism to Japan, but the bulk of the content concerns Blackthorne’s (and the audience’s) instruction on the ways of Japanese society.
I read the book prior to watching the series, and I’m glad I did. There is so much in the series that’s hobbled by the constraints of a TV budget. Scenes that were vast and open in my mind’s eye, are boxed off and practically claustrophobic here. The basic story is intact despite some seemingly random changes (an incident where a character has his ear drums ruptured in the book has become blindness here for some reason) but the core story is intact. In the end, though, it’s dissatisfying.
All of the performances are top-notch, especially the Japanese actors. I’m a huge fan of Toshiro Mifune, and he’s very good as Toranaga, but he isn’t the Toranaga I imagined. Perhaps it’s in the name’s similarity to Tokugawa, but I imagined him as quite a bit heavier. Some have mentioned that they thought Chamberlain was miscast as well, but I think he fits the role admirably. The only actor I disliked was Yoko Shimada as Mariko. Her light, airy voice makes her hard to understand when she speaks English and it doesn’t work for such a headstrong character. I can see why her confrontation with Ishido was truncated for the series. I don’t think Shimada could have pulled it off as written in the novel.
My biggest gripe is the music. Composed by the accomplished Maurice Jarre, it just doesn’t work, especially toward the beginning of the series. The early music cues are brassy and loud, and they mimic every not-so-subtle emotion of the characters to such a degree that it becomes insulting. Things get a little better when the composer veers toward Japanese instrumentation, but I still got the sense that he just didn’t get it. The music truly plays like that of a TV series from the late 70s. While that was probably okay back then, it really dates the material now.
Another throwback is the oddly bold screen titles that describe places and characters. When these giant things pop up, I feel like I’m watching the intro to Mannix. Maybe there was going to be a spinoff called Blackthorne’s Angels.
Then there’s the horrendous narration by Orson Welles. Since the director chose not to use English subtitles for spoken Japanese (which would have been fine IMHO), there are times when the audience will have no idea what’s going on unless someone explains it. Since everyone’s speaking Japanese, we suddenly get the dulcet tones of Mr. Welles explaining what’s being said. As if that weren’t bad enough, he occasionally starts doing character voices as well. Insane!
The production was probably top of the heap for 70s TV production and its look still holds up pretty well. The only overt problem is the claustrophobia-inducing framing I mentioned before. There are some bad matte shots of Ishido’s castle but other than that, everything on camera looks good.
Overall, I wouldn’t recommend seeing this unless you’ve read the novel. Even then, it’s unnecessary. I think it’s main significance is in the way that it opened the eyes of western audiences to the culture of Japan back in 1980.
PS – I liked the novel, but I didn’t love it. It could use a heavy-handed editor and a better ending to make it truly great. It’s worth reading, but it doesn’t entirely live up to its reputation.
After seeing Takeshi “Beat” Kitano’s Zatoichi reboot, I was interested to learn more about the director. Getting Any? is his fifth film, originally released in 1995. While it has its charms, this comedy was sometimes hard to get through.
The film is essentially a series of vignettes that center around Asao, a 35 year old man who lives with his grandfather and dreams of getting laid. He dreams up scheme after scheme mostly based on the things he sees on television. While the vignettes are somewhat connected, the movie doesn’t have much of a through-line. It just goes from gag to gag, most of which are very over the top and not very funny.
The best parts of the movie are the parodies of existing properties. Possibly a foreshadowing of Kitano’s Zatoichi film, Asao lands the starring role as Ichi in his quest to be a film star to get chicks. The Zatoichi parody is pretty funny if only for the reason that you’re actually seeing a Zatoichi parody.
The film was obviously made on the cheap. The bland cinematography and production design certainly don’t help sell the humor. The horrible DVD transfer (complete with copious amounts of dirt on the print) definitely pushes it over the edge into student film territory.
Comedy is one of the toughest genres to translate so maybe I’m being too hard on the film. Still, reports are that it got panned by the Japanese when first released. I see no reason to disagree with them. Unless you’re a Kitano completist, I’d recommend skipping it.
When Harakiri was released in the US shortly after it’s 1962 debut, it received a title change from the more correct Seppuku to its current moniker. That change is significant in that it shows why American audiences and filmmakers were more slow to respond to Masaki Kobayashi’s masterwork than they were to the films of Akira Kurosawa. Everything about this film is inherently Japanese, unlike Kurosawa’s westernized films, but because of that, I find Harakiri to be much more intriguing than any of the works of Kurosawa. It isn’t “better” because films aren’t exactly running foot races against one another, but I find it more attractive.
The story is relatively simple but it unfolds in a complicated way. That should come as no surprise to anyone familiar with Rashomon since Shinobu Hashimoto wrote both screenplays. He also wrote Seven Samurai but Harakiri was based on the novel Ibun rônin ki by Yasuhiku Takiguchi so that may have colored the way the work was presented. At any rate, we get to see the tale unfold in numerous flashbacks as ronin Hanshiro Tsugumo presents himself at the gates of a feudal lord’s compound and asks permission to commit ritual suicide in the courtyard. I don’t think it’s fair to go any further into the plot but suffice it to say that things aren’t all what they may seem. As we get filled in on the back story from the various participants’ points of view, the real plot is slowly uncovered.
I don’t always enjoy black and white films, especially those with relatively static action, but I was riveted by this film. The tension level is very high if you have at least a cursory understanding of the samurai class and their code of conduct. As various characters commit more and more faux pas, I began to feel that there would be no way for anyone to save face in the end. If you approach this film from a western perspective, I imagine that you’d find much less tension present. I imagine American audiences siding with the protagonist from the very beginning, but if you see the film from a Japanese point of view, he is completely out of line and it takes time to accept his perspective.
The cinematography by Yoshio Miyajima is stunning in its elegance. The level of violence seen on screen was unheard of in its day and is still somewhat shocking today, but it serves the story well. A Zatoichi movie this is not.
The main theme has been talked about for decades so I’ll give it short shrift here. Kobayashi was well known as a pacifist. After being drafted during WWII, he refused to fight and refused promotion. Harakiri spends most of its time pointing out the hypocrisy of the samurai code and of those who continue its traditions. The film has been labeled “anti-samurai” and that wouldn’t be incorrect, but it assumes a simplicity that isn’t present here. This film is thematically complex with as much to say about individual integrity as it does about samurai culture. I feel that Kobayashi’s opinion of the samurai code stemmed from the perversion of it that was used to manipulate the Japanese people during WWII. In much the same way that Star Trek episodes were sometimes about current events in the 60′s, I believe Harakiri is more about the leadership of Japan during the 40′s than it is about the samurai class.
I’ve read reviews of Takashi Miike’s recent remake of Harakiri and the critics have not been kind. While I fail to see the need to update such a near-perfect execution (no pun intended) as the original, I’m interested to see what Miike does with the material. Could it be that the critiques I read were negative because the reviewers were Americans? I’ll definitely post a review when it’s released here in the states, but I’d suggest watching the original first. It’s highly recommended.
Zatoichi and the Chess Expert is one of the better Zatoichi films of the first half of the series. If not for the muddy second act, this, the 12th film in the series, would rank at the top of the heap. Director Kenji Misumi, who was also the director of the very first Zatoichi film, pulls out all the stops to create a visually compelling presentation. Unfortunately, the script isn’t as strong as the visuals.
Don’t get me wrong. There’s an awful lot to like here. It just never gels into a cohesive whole. Our old friend Ichi is in trouble again but this time he isn’t making matters any better for himself. I’m not sure if this is tied to Misumi’s idea of Ichi or not, but in his Z films, Ichi is always more mischievous. In this one he’s practically asking to get the crap beat out of him. He’s back to his con man tricks, fooling gamblers into parting with their cash and escaping by laying a big guilt trip on them because he’s blind. It doesn’t happen very often, but Ichi isn’t above exploiting pity over his condition if it gets him what he wants. That, to me, diminishes the character whenever it happens. I thought we were past that by this point in the series, but apparently Misumi disagreed.
The plot is packed full of characters looking for and trying to kill one another that by midway through you might be looking for a scorecard just so you can keep track. It’s not terribly complex but the sheer number of overlapping revenge plots and attempts at subterfuge makes the middle act a bit of a mess. The best plot points involve a travelling woman and a little girl who ends up getting tetanus because of an unexpected swordfight between Ichi and Banya clan members. As is often the case in these films, the scenes that feature Ichi and the child are priceless. I’d have gladly given up an extra subplot for more screen time for them.
Equally compelling is the ronin chess expert, Tadaso Jumonji. He’s a very likable, though flawed, companion for Ichi so it’s fairly certain that he won’t live to see the next movie. It’s too bad because Jumon is an interesting character who I’d have loved to see again. Alas it isn’t to be.
The guardian of the little girl falls for Ichi and we’re actually allowed to see how she becomes enamored of the blind masseuse. In most of the films, the love interest is a little farfetched, and it is here as well, but it also lends a melancholy twist to this film that helps move the plot along. Rather than deviating from the formula, this film tunes the formulaic elements to a perfect pitch.
As I mentioned at the beginning, the look of this picture is unparalleled in the series. The shrine and the village are wonderful locations, as is the ship Ichi boards at the beginning of the film. The cinematography is crisp and clear with bright colors and rich detail, even on the relatively poor DVD transfer. Shot selection is impressive and it’s supported by restrained camera work.
Performances are all crystal clear, with Shintaro Katsu leading the way. Mikio Narita, the actor portraying Jumonji, gives Katsu a run for his money and his understated, charismatic performance is important to the success of the story. The little girl hardly turns in an award winning performance, but she hits her marks and delivers her lines in ways that emphasize her charm as well.
The action often takes a backseat to the plot but there are several wonderful fight sequences. The quality of the camera work alone would have insured that these are fun to watch, but there’s always character in a Zatoichi fight. Modern filmmakers like Michael Bay could learn a lot from watching these films. A fight is meaningless if it’s simply a technical exercise.
As a whole, the film plays like Misumi’s attempt at remaking The Tale of Zatoichi. Surely this one had a larger budget and was also in color so the opportunity was ripe for the picking. That could explain why so many plot elements got crammed into 90 minutes but that’s just conjecture. This is a top notch Zatoichi film and comes highly recommended despite the minor flaws of its script.
