Dai-bosatsu tôge

A classic Samurai picture that is as confusing as it is violent. Ryunosuke Tsukue is the main character, a Samurai with a dark and merciless nature. You might even call him evil. The path he takes (with multiple subplots that don't always seem to be resolved) leads him to madness. The confusing aspects may be due to the fact that there were supposed to be sequels, as well as the fact that the story was a famous one in Japan and hence, certain parts were to be assumed by that audience. Nonetheless, it was still a fairly compelling watch, especially with the action, a precursor to the violence in such films as the excellent Lone Wolf and Cub series. Hands and fingers are cut off, blood is shed, and the climatic ending features a body count along the lines of The House of Blue Leaves!

Imagine Nakadai's murderous Onosuke from Yojimbo; then raise the level of his single-minded purpose an order of magnitude to the fated dancer of The Red Shoes and you get a vague idea of Ryunosuke, a psychopathic samuari hunted by the righteous and villainous alike. Hiroshi Murai's gritty B& W photography is awesome; and the choreography and staging of the swordfighting sequences are far and away the most rivetting I've ever seen (and I think I've seen most of them) -- not romantically stylized as in Inagaki's Samurai Trilogy -- something like the subtlety of Kurosawa meets the textured action of John Woo. The characters are intense and memorable. The final freeze frame may put you in mind of Butch Cassidy. You'll never forget it.

"The Sword of Doom" is one of Tatsuya Nakadai's best performances. His best in my opinion was in the role of Hidatora in Kurosawa's "RAN." Tatsuya is an unusually sensitive actor compared to other actors of his generation who seemed to spit out their lines. His facial gestures and body movement conveyed as much as words at times.The film contains one of the most memorable scenes ever shot; the fight pitting Toshiro Mifune against some 20 assassins in a snow storm borrowed by Quentin Tarantino for "Kill Bill." It is a moving narrative and at times Tatsuya reminds me of Marlon Brando in his early films in his moody performance.

It is too bad the trilogy was never finished. This was to be the first film of the trilogy which is why it leaves much of the story untold. One would have to consult the original work by the author in order to follow the story to its conclusion.

Imagine your favorite action movie, then take out all the cheesy one-liners ("Asta la vista, baby!"), the irritating sidekick, the love interest, the techno-porn, and the off-handed moralistic ending. Then add a Commando-league body count, incredible swordplay, and great photography, and you've got Sword of Doom. This is a wrenching, visceral drama about an antagonist armed not with a stolen nuclear device, but with the best sword-fighting skills in Japan and a psychopath's indifference to human life. Unlike other more recent movies that try to portray the same raw, killing-machine kind of character, Sword of Doom does not resort to grimy photography or an adolescent delight in visual assault. Instead you get pure, distilled, ultra-kinetic fighting suffused with a thrilling coldness.

"Sword of Doom" is an unusual film. Firstly, it is one of the most brilliantly photographed films I have ever seen, in composition, mise en scene, and the play of black and white.

Secondly, "Sword of Doom" is that rare film in which the aim of the director and the power of the lead mesh together to form an unforgettable portrayal.

Tatsuya Nakadai plays Ryunosuke, a skilled swordsman, who, from the opening moments of the film, proves also to be homicidally indifferent to human life. Ryunosuke is a strange and difficult character. His fighting style is passive, and he remains mostly uninvolved, both with the political turmoil surrounding him, and with his family - from his dying father, who fears the evil in him, to his lover (the wife of an opponent he kills) and his child. Nakadai's performance is magnetic, comparable to Montgomery Clift in it's singleminded, unyielding intensity.

While some of the subplots without Ryunosuke aren't quite as compelling, the ending is memorable and disturbing, and the direction will remind in some ways of Orson Wells.