|
One of my personal favorites, Sanjuro
is the second installment in the series revolving
around the exploits of the roguish ronin known
as Tsubaki Sanjuro. Set in the era of the Tokugawa
Shogunate, the lone wanderer this time volunteers
to save the clan chamberlain from the wicked superintendent.
The subtleties of the plot, the humor, and the
action make for a knockout samurai flick, and
the music oozes with the charm of Masaru
Sato. Perhaps one of the
only true flaws of the movie is a mild lack of
development on a few of the main characters, but
nevertheless, Sanjuro is still a brilliant
masterpiece by Akira
Kurosawa. Though sometimes
unfairly overshadowed by its predecessor Yojimbo
(1961), it truly has enough strength to stand
on its own legs.
In the midst of growing corruption
in the clan during the lord's leave in Edo, Superintendent
Kikui became entangled in illicit activities.
Chamberlain Mutsuta, well aware of this fact,
was prepared to bide his time and gather enough
evidence to use against the traitors. The old
chamberlain's failure to act quickly against corruption
irked his worried nephew: Iori Izaka, and his
several samurai allies. On a more shallow level,
his unattractive features were a hindrance to
his cause. Unaware of the superintendent’s
involvement, Izaka reported to Kikui his desire
for swift action and mentioned his uncle's peculiar
behavior. Little did Izaka realize that, as his
uncle warned, "The worst one is beyond your
imagination".
Sanjuro, overhearing the conversation
between Izaka and the other samurai in a wooded
shrine, chimed in with his impartial observation
of the situation... and quickly came to the conclusion
that it was in fact the superintendent who was
up to no good. These fears were only confirmed
when the superintendent's men attacked the shrine,
but Sanjuro took it upon himself to take command,
hide the samurai, and repel the warriors. Hanbei
Muroto, the leader of the attack, noted the skill
of Sanjuro; and, when realizing his quarry was
not present at the shrine in question, graciously
offered the ronin a job in Kikui's camp if he
ever became interested.
Sanjuro, understanding how delicate
the situation had become due to the rash actions
of the younger samurai, volunteered to aid them
in their mission, which was to now rescue Chamberlain
Mutsuta. It was clear he would be in grave danger,
for Izaka's actions gave Mutsuta's cause away
to Kikui. Sanjuro led the men to the house of
the chamberlain, infiltrated the premises, and
rescued the chamberlain's daughter and wife. In
the process, a guard was taken prisoner and, becaus
of the peaceful pleas of Mutsuta's wife, Sanjuro
spared his life. Alas, it was discovered that
the chamberlain was already captured. Rushing
to the house of one of the samurai to regroup,
they knew they would have to keep low, for Kurofuji,
one of the traitors, lived just next door. Fortunately,
it was the perfect hiding spot, as it would be
unlikely for the superintendents' underlings to
check their neighbors' homes.
Meanwhile, Superintendent Kikui
and his minions were unaware of the size of the
resistance. They would have to act tactfully,
thus, they posted a notice proclaiming the chamberlain's
guilt, and prepared to lead the traitors out into
the open. Using decoy palanquins, the samurai
(though at Sanjuro's objection), were almost led
into peril, had it not been for a group of clan-loyal
warriors on horseback who became entangled in
the confusion of the trap. When it was realized
that the men on horseback were not among the chamberlain's
men, they were easily cajoled into joining the
superintendent's forces.
Sanjuro, well aware of how extraordinarily
complex the situation was becoming, bid his farewell
and declared he would accept Muroto's job offer.
The samurai flew into intense debate, trying to
decide whether or not it was part of his plan,
or the beginning of their end. Two men on each
side of the argument were sent to scope out the
situation, but they complicated the events even
further when Sanjuro was forced to capture them
in Muroto's presence. Tricking Muroto into believing
a wide number of rebels were infiltrating the
premises, Sanjuro bought himself enough time to
kill the guards and free his allies. However,
this blunder was much to Sanjuro's disdain, for
Mutsuta's wife's warnings against excessive violence
was sinking into the very depths of his personal
code. When Muroto returned, he discovered a bound
Sanjuro, believing he was defeated by dozens and
dozens of warriors. Unable to recommend him to
his superiors, Muroto dismissed the samurai.
Upon returning to their home base,
Mutsuta's daughter Chidori noticed shreds of parchment
in the stream flowing from Kurofuji's home, a
place nicknamed the Camellia Mansion. The parchment
was that which Izaka had given his uncle just
before his disappearance; so it was a crystal
clear fact that Mutsuta was next door! A plan
was concocted, for if Sanjuro claimed he saw the
rebels from the second story at Komyo Temple,
Kikui's men would surely follow in pursuit. Sanjuro,
meanwhile, would drop a load of camellias in the
stream leading from Kurofuji's home next door...
and that would be the signal for the samurai to
attack the unguarded manor.
The plan started to go off without
a hitch, but unfortunately, the captured guard
whom the samurai had brought along suddenly remembered
that Komyo Temple had no second story! Even still,
Kikui and his men left for the temple, having
yet to realize the factual error. Unfortunately,
Muroto caught Sanjuro plucking camellias from
the tree in the courtyard, and the villain Takebayashi
finally realized the error. Muroto rushed after
Kikui, as Sanjuro was left tied to a boulder for
future questioning. The ronin tactfully tricked
Kurofuji and Takebayashi into dumping camellias
into the stream, informing them that the white
ones would signal the rebels not to attack. Little
did they realize that the color did not matter.
In minutes, the Camellia Mansion was raided and
the chamberlain freed. The superintendent failed,
and he committed seppuku.
With the chamberlain saved, a celebration
of honor was set for Sanjuro. He was nowhere to
be found, for it was clear that the wanderer had
wandered off yet again. Meeting the defeated Muroto
on the road, Sanjuro insisted they not do battle.
Muroto was bent on satisfaction, and ultimately,
met his demise. The samurai were in awe, but Sanjuro,
realizing how similar he was to his foe, was deeply
disturbed by the duel. Forbidding the samurai
from leading him back to the chamberlain, or following
him for that matter, he gave a brief farewell
and continued on into the distance.
The unfolding plot is an excellent
adventure story, but the adventure is only one
aspect of the story. The film easily warrants
multiple viewings and brings enjoyment simply
because of the style. It is very light-hearted,
often a rarity with Akira
Kurosawa. The humor used in the film is wonderful
in its subtlety. Often, it is simply Sanjuro’s
comical reactions to interruptions or strange
dialogue that brings a snicker from the audience.
More specifically, other humorous moments include
the silent celebration of the samurai,
the captured guard humbly returning to his closet,
or Takebayashi’s sudden realization that
he had been duped. The close of the film, devoid
of the death of any of the protagonists, is satisfying
in the respect that you’ve just seen a spectacular
movie and weren’t brought to tears at all.
The acting
is yet anther feat of Sanjuro. Toshiro
Mifune stars in one of
his most likeable roles. His portrayal of Sanjuro,
complete with beard strokes, neck rubs, and the
slow, deliberate movements gives this roguish
character a great deal of charm. Tatsuya
Nakadai, with his cold, wide-eyed expressions
(common in his antagonistic performances)…
lends his character a deeply disturbing and unnerving
nature. Yuzo Kayama, Akihiko Hirata, Akira Kubo,
Kenzo Matsui, Hiroshi Tachikawa, Yoshio Tsuchiya,
Kunie Tanaka, Tatsuyoshi Ehara, Tatsuhiko Hari,
bring dignity and emotion to their respective
performances, although few stand out among the
others. Reiko Dan and Takako Irie also have a
slow, deliberate motion to their acting style.
Unlike Mifune’s
performance, the huge difference here is that
these women give a graceful elegance to there
respective roles. Takashi
Shimura, Kamatari Fujiwara, and Masao Shimizu
bring to their respective roles a hesitant coldness
which easily defines the villainy of their characters.
Finally, Yonosuke Ito, though given only a brief
cameo, brings dignity to his character, and an
indellible charm in his expression and tone.
While the acting may be a plus,
there is just a little trouble in the area of
development. Besides Iori Izaka, we know very
little about the main samurai of the film. Their
personalities just blend into each other, and
it is difficult to discern who is on whose side
when they become argumentitive. It becomes clear
that using eight samurai besides Izaka was probably
unnecessary. But, that alone is the only
flaw that I feel keeps this movie from a perfect
score. Iori Izaka, on the other hand, is given
ample development. We learn of his rash decisions,
his impatience, and his guilt that goes hand in
hand with his inability to rationally and without
bias judge a situation. His uncle the chamberlain,
on the other hand, is characterized as good natured
and patient. He has a firm sense of justice and
a will to do what is right, but also a shrewd
demeanor that leads him to utterly infuriate his
captors. His wisdom also shines through, as does
his humor near the end. The wife of the chamberlain
is also similar in this regard, a good-natured
woman with a warm heart. Showing compassion for
others, she becomes the first woman to truly tame
Sanjuro. Her lines, such as “killing is
a bad habit”, sink into the main character,
and he gradually learns and grows an understanding
that he is, indeed, a sword that needs to be sheathed.
Chidori is developed to an extent where it is
clear she has grace and kindness. However, it
is her clever aid in the end, where she suggests
the camellia signal, that shows multiple dimensions
to what appeared to originally be a one-dimensional
role. Although, like her mother, her natural demeanor
is often portrayed as a little airy. The villains,
the cold, calculating Kikui, the worrisome Takebayashi,
and the unnervingly calm Kurofuji, manage to make
for antagonists who aren’t over-the-top,
but instead realistic in the excecution of their
crooked, though often clumsy, schemes. Hanbei
Muroto is the cold, deadly Nakadai-villain
which is not uncommon in samurai films. This time,
it is clear that he is just a little more dispicable.
Thirsting for power, he sees potential in Sanjuro
to complete his schemes for his own will to take
over. Self-aware, he clearly understands he is
on the side of evil. Finally, there is the title
character of this film: Sanjuro. The often lazy,
sometimes vulgar, always roguish, skillfully-trained,
wise character, created in the previous movie,
begins to grow and shape into a maturing character
this time around. His character traits, caring
though verbally abusive, are noted by the other
samurai. Mutsuta’s wife sees him as an unsheathed
sword, and leads him down a path where he begins
to realize that excessive violence is not always
the key. It is nice to see the main character
grow, another reason that this film deserves acclaim.
For the time period, Sanjuro
actually boasts some interestering visuals. The
cinematography is tight, the camera movement is
very natural, the sets and environments are vivid,
and the lighting matches the mood brilliantly.
The fight choreography however, deserves the most
applause. While it is the old “hack-‘em-till-they’re-dead”
style, the flow of the movements shows some progression.
The swordplay is more widely used as well, making
for a blend of action and human drama that is
sure not to become boring. The climactic battle
between Mifune
and Nakadai’s
character is perhaps a little quick, but the gore
is totally unexpected. I don't recall the blood-spray
style used in any Kurosawa
that I’ve seen up to this time period (1962).
It is almost repulsive compared to the rest of
the movie, but in the scheme of the plot, it makes
sense. Nakadai’s
death was supposed to be disturbing; a petty waste
of a character too much like Sanjuro himself.
My complaint here is that the blood, in black
and white, doesn’t appear to look like very
bloodlike. It looks like root-bear is spraying
out of the character, and it is so abruptly odd
in this regard that it hard to grasp what has
just happened.
The music of Sanjuro is
similar to Yojimbo
(1961) in that it has that certain blend of tradition
and big band pizzazz (often synonymous with Masaru
Sato); however, this soundtrack is less distracting
than that in the movie's predecessor. The main
themes for Sanjuro can be described as
a large amount of lighter toned percussion mixed
with a vivid and almost celebratory use of brass.
The less prominent themes feature sometimes playful,
or coy accompaniment to a particular scene (often
during lighter moments of the movie, i.e., the
samurai peeking their heads above the floorboards).
In fact, one of the excellent aspects of the soundtrack
is just how well each theme fits the specific
situation it compliments. In this regard, the
music tends to blend in more with the action,
creating a fantastic synergy.
When it's all sewn together, Sanjuro
is a fine tapestry... the best characteristics
of the character born in Yojimbo
(1961) mixed with an Eastern flare. There is a
lot to like about this film; a multidimensional
main character, sharp cinematography and tight
choreography, a subtle sense of humor, a light
atmosphere, and an all-around enjoyable experience.
It is definitely made for multiple viewings, a
fine dish for the eyes and the ears. It does have
perhaps a flaw or two, but the movie definitely
makes up for these problems in other ways. To
get to the point, Sanjuro is a great
movie, perhaps unfairly diminutive in exposure
and critical acclaim compared to its predecessor,
but simply excellent in its cinematic potency
nevertheless. See it if you've yet to do so.
|
(4.5/5)