Chushingura

This is one of my favorite stories and this film does it great justice. It is a "must". Check it out! The acting is very good, as is the "staging" of action. The gamut of emotions is wide. The story develops is a slow, inevitable, and suspenseful way --- even if one actually knows the ending beforehand. The motivations of the characters are clear. Their internal conflicts between duty, pride and sorrow, on the one hand, and the desire for a normal life, on the other, are strongly portrayed --- as are their nostalgia and sense of loss. The interesting quality of this story is that there is no one protagonist: All of the characters must take part. It is easy to see how the story has remained so popular for about 300 years. To my mind, however, this film is not quite as visually "beautiful" as the black and white "47 Ronin" that was made in 1940, I believe. Check it out!

I first saw this very great film in the fall of 1965 when I started as a freshman at Cal. It had been playing at a local art house for ELEVEN months and, it being Berkeley, people were picketing to demand a new movie! I was lucky to have the chance to see it three times before it finally closed six weeks later. At the time, I thought it was UNDOUBTEDLY the greatest movie ever made, or ever likely to be.

Six years later, I had a second encounter with "Chushingura" when it was revived at an art house in San Francisco. A group of friends and I attended a showing where we were the only Caucasians in attendance -- EVERYONE ELSE in this 200+ seat cinema appeared to be Japanese or Japanese-American. It being the early '70s in the Bay Area, we had fully prepared ourselves to maximally enjoy the sheer visual beauties of this film. Sure enough, it was gorgeous, and we all muttered "wow" either singly and in chorus as we wallowed in the cinematographic feast.

But the stunning thing, to me, was the response of the Japanese/ Japanese-American audience. Utterly quiet throughout the movie, when the lights went up most of them had tears streaming down their cheeks --no vocal crying, mind you, just the overwhelming emotional response to a peak, deeply moving experience. I really envied them their cultural insight into the profoundly Japanese issues this masterpiece explores, something which as much as I admire "Chushingura" I must admit that as a Westerner I don't entirely comprehend.

The story is described elsewhere, so I'll focus first on the unparalleled BEAUTY of this movie. It is simply the most gorgeous thing ever committed to celluloid. Every single frame is like a perfect work of art, a series of superbly imagined Japanese images of nature and humanity which engulf your senses in endless, exquisite splendor. Next, "Chushingura" has stupendous pacing -- the shifts between tension and serenity, between lyricism and violence are expertly crafted, and the movie flows, sometimes majestically and sometimes in terrifying haste, to its incredibly exciting climax and compellingly tragic denouement. Finally, "Chushingura" explores deep themes of honor and loyalty, retribution and atonement, that may not resonate fully with a Western audience, but which nevertheless inspire awe and an enhanced curiosity about the culture and people that produced and are molded by them -- the culture that created this unforgettable cinematic masterwork.

Is "Chushingura" UNDOUBTEDLY the great movie ever? Maybe not, but it's definitely in the running with only a handful of other films for that exalted position.

This story of the 47 loyal ronin (ronin is a Japanese word for a master-less samurai) is based on actual events that took place in 1701 and 1702--although some of the exact details are uncertain (including the actual number) . What is certain is that a feudal lord attempted to murder on of the Shogun's trusted men in one of the royal castles. As a result, the attempted murderer was ordered to commit ritual suicide and his retainers (now ronin) vowed revenge on the man almost killed. What the exact insult was is lost to history, but the tale is considered a classic and most Japanese people are very familiar with it.

It would have a very hard time giving any version of this story a 10 because there are so very many that you can't give them anything for originality. According to IMDb, on Japanese TV alone, something like a dozen different versions were made just during one decade! And, as far as movies go, there are also quite a few. I've seen the classic 1941 version and found it to be very, very different from CHUSHINGURA because it was much more nationalistic and seemed, at times, like wartime propaganda (albeit, very good propaganda) AND because the film was much more fast-moving--skipping much of the setup that you find in this remake. In other words, in 1941, the insult and the attempted murder take place very early into the film and here in 1962, it doesn't occur until about an hour into the film. In fact, while an amazingly well made film, CHUSHINGURA is perhaps too deliberately paced and could have used an edit. While I like very long films, this one just wasn't paced well enough to merit its 3-1/2 hour running time. At 2-1/2 or 3 hours, it would have played better.

As for the acting, sets and everything else about the film, it was all first-rate. The film was obviously a prestige film and as a consequence was filmed in lovely full-color. In fact, other than the pacing and ubiquity of the plot, it's a very well made and interesting film--probably even more so in Japan, where it's a beloved tale illustrating loyalty and honor.

Finally, it should be noted that although Toshirô Mifune is shown on the DVD art and all the pictures here on IMDb, his role is very small and this is definitely a film with a large ensemble cast--not a Mifune film per se. His fans might be disappointed by this and you might want to consider this before you watch.

Inagaki's Chushingura is a big-screen film. The colours are vivid, the composition meticulous, and the various characters disappear for long periods requiring concentration to remember who's who. Modern audiences used to more nuanced characters in period pieces (such as The Assassination of Jesse James, or Twilight Samurai) might find this straight telling of the tale in undiluted terms slightly twee. Indeed, Chusha Ichikawa as the villain Kira is the film's major flaw, a pantomime villain, lecherous and mean-spirited, who seems to be mugging it up for people in the back row. Dated characterisation aside, the telling of this tale earns your tears at the end as the worthy assailants troop off to Edo castle to meet their unhappy destiny, the actual moment of seppuku relegated to a final credit-roll.

More modern renditions of Chushingura have focused on the inner human conflict, the lovers thwarted by demands of loyalty and honour. Inagaki unashamedly keeps his narrative on surface events, preferring to wow the audience with scale and spectacle. Japanese audiences come to the film the way Brits come to the tale of Robin Hood, with an inner template of longing for values cherished but long gone. Their eyes are already moist in the ticket queue. Western audiences less familiar with the tale of the 47 ronin might get a little lost in the narrative, but the pace of events and elegiac sense of living a life for a higher purpose is conveyed to universal appeal. Excellent music score.

I have actually seen this film several times because it was my college boyfriend's favorite movie and I was dragged to the local art house to see it 5 times. But I have to say I found something new in it each time. While I agree with the previous reviewer that it can be confusing, the story is legendary in Japan and the film makers didn't feel the need to explain elements the Japanese audience would be familiar with. I suggest a second viewing will make it more coherent. I have yet to see a more recent samurai/martial arts film match the suspense and beauty of the snow scene or the heartbreak at the end of the first half. It is a visually rich and rewarding movie experience.