Chûshingura

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.

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 Chushingara in 1972 in Boulder, Colorado on the CU campus. I racked up 3 additional viewings in the next couple of years, one at Boston's Park Square Cinema, long gone and lamented. The Park Square often showed Japanese films and I saw the Samurai Trilogy there as well as some of the other classics. I've since seen in again in theaters and now have the video. I was struck, reading some of the other viewer comments, by how many people felt exactly as I did, remembering each viewing as though it were a superb meal to be savored the rest of our lives, rather than simply "seeing a great film". The other comments articulate the reasons why quite well, but I'll add my two cents. Aside from being perhaps the most gorgeous film ever made, its beauty is integral to the psychological mood of heroism intensified by each moment's transience and each life's fragility. The great trial and seppuku scene, framed by that stunningly beautiful music and the equally intense cherry blossoms, stands as one of the most concise statements of life's tragic beauty as well, of course, as the soul of Bushido. The course of action pursued by Chamberlain Oishi creates the emotional hook and the humorous scenes, highlighted by Toshiro Mifune's wonderful character, keep things barreling along. In the end, though, it is the whole package - the stunning sets, many of them modeled fairly closely on classic Japanese woodcuts; the brilliant acting and direction; the loving detail of so many aspects of Japanese culture; the unfolding of justice; the close relationships and their exacting depiction; the revelation of a code that is so alien to anything in contemporary western life; the self-conscious gamble to make this film a cultural monument that breathes life; and of course, the final battle - wow! - certainly one of the greatest movies ever made. It is a shame that it is not more accessible on the large screen - the bigger the better - but as it sustains multiple viewings, see it on video anyway - it's worth it and you can always watch it again.

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.

"Chushingura" retells the famous story of Lord Asano's loyal men in a way uncommon to most historical dramas. Not only does it give the account in wonderful detail, incorporating a great many historical characters (though, as has been said, they can be hard to keep track of), but it is also a wonderfully beautiful and emotional film.

The cinematography is fantastic. Colors are put to good use and set up a wonderful atmosphere; it is a shame that the only DVD release of this film available in the United States is of such poor quality that much of the effect is lost. Akira Ifukube's score is, as usual, magnificent and adds as much mood and atmosphere to the film as the beautiful photography. Many of Toho's great actors are present here and do a commendable job of portraying the vast array of characters. The classic story is told with great emotion as well as attention to detail, and the pacing never slips. There are also many interesting transitions from scene to scene, set up in such a way that a scene often appears at first to be part of the one before it.

A terrific movie. Recommended for all who are interested in this most memorable part of Japanese history and/or dazzling cinematic beauty.