Ichimei

This is the film about life and how hard it can be. What a true warrior should aim for and what does it mean to be a man of action. Very interesting film with an exceptional rhythm of story telling. At first flow of the film looked too slow for me, but after warming up I did truly enjoy it. As I got very sharp emotional feelings form this very melodramatic remake of Original Harakiri (1962), at the and of the film I've got a special gift, something which will be an interesting suggestion for life and a different angle of view for it.

It's a good film. I didn't see the original and so I wasn't tainted by how they compare, or the book either. It probably made this film a little hard to understand because the chronology jumps around and there are a lot of flashbacks - but I stuck with it and it did begin to make sense. The movie is a basically a tragedy that also dissects the samurai code and provides some thought provoking material to consider. The movie is reasonably well paced and for a Japanophile the set design and costumes are very well done. I don't know if Japan was that squeaky clean and tidy 400 years ago, but it seemed well considered and accurate. The movie was a little slow but portrayed a sort of Zen tranquility, so it worked for the mood or atmosphere. You could pick apart this movie, and it may not stand up to the original but if you're a fan of Japanese cinema it's definitely worth seeing.

Anyone with a more than passing interest in Japanese movies ought to watch Kobayashi's 1962 version of Takaiguchi's novel that this also is based on, and watch the intro by the Japanese film authority Donald Ritchie on the Criterion edition. Ritchie makes fully clear how Kobayashi here, as in other films, is talking through the historical tale about current issues he was passionate about, in this case lingering post-WWII authoritarianism in Japan and hollow bureaucracies, in his day as in the time of the early Tokugawa government; Miike doesn't seem to have anything particularly urgent to say. Look at what Ritchie points out that Kobayashi's version offers: the script by ace screenwriter Shinobu Hashimoto who wrote Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai; the score by bold, influential experimentalist Toru Takemitsu; the strong and unifying symbolic use of empty samurai armor throughout; the career-defining lead performance by Tatsuya Nakadai; and the elegantly austere use of black and white cinematography.

Ironically Miike's film also carries over Kobayashi's one serious flaw - - an overindulgence in sentimentality and pathos in the flashback love story.

Miike, apparently seeking 'respectability' after all his entertaining ultra-violence with this staid remake/adaptation, also overdoes everything. He makes every scene too drawn-out and talky. He further overdoes the sentimentality, to the point that in his version becomes unbearably cloying, virtually unwatchable. Once again, 3D adds nothing; black and white was just what was needed. Less was and is more.

Whenever a filmmaker goes over familiar ground, adapting a book that has been adapted (and very well) before, he exposes himself to comparisons to the book and to the previous adaptation. Don't get me wrong. Miike has plenty of skill. It is not that his 'Hara- Kiri' is a washout. It's just that Kobayashi's version is a true work of art, a film classic, in fact; and in comparison Miike's is merely a competent effort and a pointless bid for respectability that was not needed. He is a master in his own realm. Surprisingly his last film before this, the juicy, action-historical blockbuster 13 Assassins, which I thoroughly enjoyed, also was an adaptation -- of Eiichi Kudo's little known samurai film of the same name. Thanks to 'Wildgrounds' (who compare the two Hara- Kiri films) for this info. Thanks also to Ben Parker on 'CapitalNewYork' for his detailed comparison of the two films; and to the Criterion Collection, for its print of Kobayashi's 'Hara-Kiri' and Donald Ritchie's informed introduction to it.

Where does mercy fit in with the esprit de corps of a warrior class? Can there be honor without it? These are interesting questions raised in director Takashi Miike's poignant remake of the 1962 classic "Harakiri". This film may not satisfy the audience for slashing, body-count samurai movies because the emphasis is on mood and character but there are a number of things to recommend this film. "Hara-Kiri:Death of a Samurai" is beautifully photographed by Nobuyasu Kita and has laudable performances. Ebizo Ichikawa is Hanshiro a samurai with a young daughter of marriageable age. Hanshiro has adjusted to living in a time of peace. He isn't a wealthy man but seems happy and content making a living doing the odd job here and there. Ichikawa is wonderful in this role giving great weight and humanity to the character. He is a memorable samurai. Eita is Motome a young samurai who hasn't adjusted as well. He has been unable to find employment and so enters the house of a great lord asking for permission to commit harakiri in the courtyard and thus achieve an honorable death. Hikari Mitsushima is very affecting as Hanshiro's daughter, Miho. When I approached the theater showing this film I noticed someone walking away with teary eyes. I can't recall the last time that happened but after seeing "Hara-Kiri:Death of a Samurai" I understood why someone would be so moved.

Takashi Miike's second straight tribute to the samurai genre is a well-crafted and finely honed object. It's more consistent than Miike's previous samurai film, 13 Assassins, although that also means it lacks anything as great as that film's final battle. But what sets Hara-Kiri apart is its willingness to not just offer a pastiche of these films but genuinely question their values in a way that is still challenging to the contemporary viewer.

Through a series of events told partially in flashbacks, Hara-Kiri poses the question of how relevant our values are -- whether they be highly codified values like honour or the more nebulous instincts that guide us today -- in the face of human suffering. The ronin that we see humiliated and killed in the first act is not guilty of breaking some arcane samurai bylaw but of doing something most of us would find disgraceful. But as the film goes on it argues that we should hold compassion even for people such as this, and that honour is ultimately irrelevant in the face of social suffering. In an age of recession and austerity, where so many try to cling to their ideas of what they or other people "deserve", this is an important message.

It's an easy film to appreciate and a difficult one to love -- there's a kind of coldness to this set of Miike's movies that seems out of place with the gonzo enthusiasm of his earlier work. And doubtlessly it will be too slow and cerebral for some. But its critique of not just a canonized genre but the way in which we view ethics makes it well worth seeing.