Zatôichi kyôjô-tabi

Masseur Ichi, the Fugitive (1963)

*** (out of 4)

The blind swordsman Ichi (Shintaro Katsu) angers a large yakuza after defeating them in a wrestling match, which will lead to a bigger fight. Directed by Tokuzo Tanaka. This here was my second film in the series and while I enjoyed most of the first one, this one here just doesn't cut it. There's way too much talking going on and none of it is even mildly interesting. Even worse is that the actual swordfights are rather lame as well. The concept of a blind swordsman is really the only thing that keeps this film (and perhaps series?) afloat.

Zatoichi, the Fugitive is the fourth entry in the franchise and the second film to be shot in color. It's the second of three films released within the same year. The movie starts with Zatoichi being attacked by an inexperienced yakuza who wants to earn the bounty on Zatoichi's head. Zatoichi easily kills his opponent and wants to find out who wants to pay the reward for seeing him dead. The blind masseur travels to a nearby town where he confesses to the bounty hunter's mother that he killed her son. While the mother pardons Zatoichi, a group of samurai wants to avenge the bounty hunter's death. As if that weren't enough, Zatoichi also has to deal with the weak inheritor of a local yakuza who seeks Zatoichi's help but who is also pressured to kill Zatoichi by his peers to prove his strength. In addition to this, Zatoichi meets Otane again, a woman he carried passionate feelings for in the first two films. He realizes she is unhappily married to a quick-tempered ronin and decides to challenge him. Soon, Zatoichi has to face a group of vindictive samurai, a mean ronin and an untrustworthy inheritor all at once.

The main problem with this film is that the plot is at times tough to follow with its numerous characters. It's not always clear why and when the inheritor changes his mind and is Zatoichi's partner, just to become his opponent and to end up supporting him once again. The numerous yakuza bosses and their motives for wanting Zatoichi dead are also quite confusing. Even the return of Otane is somewhat strange as she seems to be torn between Zatoichi and her husband. In one scene, she almost romantically walks around with Zatoichi and opens up to him about how her life has changed for the worse and the next day she apparently tries to trick him in order to kill him and get the bounty on his head. The movie would have been much more enjoyable with less characters who have clearer objectives. This film's epic proportions made me feel lost at times.

On the positive side, the wild Japanese landscapes and colourful towns are still fascinating to watch and especially the abandoned house in the meadows where the final showdown happens is a gorgeous location. The final fight sequences are beautifully and cleverly choreographed. The entertaining last twenty minutes save the movie from being just average or worse.

In the end, Zatoichi, the Fugitive is the weakest film of the franchise so far but it's saved by a fast-paced closing twenty minutes and the charming use of traditional rural Japanese locations. Fans and followers of the franchise can give this film a try but occasional fans of Chanbara or samurai films can skip this entry without any regrets.

One might mistake this for the first Zatôichi in colour, so bold are the colours during the opening credits that they'd challenge even Imamura's hyper-lush "Kamigami no yakubo" (1968).

What the films achieve wonderfully is that they still allow the necessary plotting to take its time. In modern fare I think we'd be having all the quiet moments and hesitations removed, let alone all the human drama. Thus the film really has genuinely suspenseful moments and genuine drama. Otane reappears, and we are allowed to see a loose end tied in the drama.

I'm going through the films in chronological order just now. It will be interesting to see where the series goes as it matures; these early films have all been very brilliant.

By this point, the 'Zatoichi' series has slipped into full-on episodic territory, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. In essence, it's a bit like 'James Bond'; each outing takes place within a vague continuity but doesn't require any pre-existing knowledge to be enjoyed. It's perhaps surprising that the series didn't get an official television show until 1974, though that probably has more to do with the landscape of entertainment media at the time than anything else. 'Zatoichi The Fugitive (1963)' sees its eponymous blind masseur with a price on his head after he defeats a local yakuza gang in a wrestling tournament, eventually finding himself caught in the middle of an underhanded gangland coup. Our protagonist inserts himself into this issue seemingly in an effort to aid a pair of sweethearts whose love it inhibits, perhaps because he doesn't want them to be affected by the same problems that plagued his past - spurred on by the return, in what's basically an extended cameo, of his first love, Otane (last seen in 'The Tale Of Zatoichi Continues (1962)'). As he continues to run afoul of the local mob, the price on his head grows larger and larger, attracting the attention of a rough samurai whose very first appearance almost silently promises a final showdown between the pair. The piece is as character-focused as you'd expect from the series, with themes of love and honour pusling through its veins. Though Zatoichi is almost constantly opposed to killing and even goes out of his way to fulfil the final wishes of those he has to dispatch, the flick has a rather high body count. Its action alternates between suspenseful and exciting, especially in its aforementioned climactic face-off. The feature is also surprisingly funny. It moves at a decent pace and does a good job of keeping you invested in its proceedings. It does occasionally get a tad confusing (there are a lot of names thrown around and it isn't always clear exactly who everyone is) but this isn't a major issue. Overall, it's an enjoyable affair throughout. 7/10.

MASSEUR ICHI, THE FUGITIVE (1963) is the fourth in the series of Japanese swordplay films devoted to the exploits of Zatoichi, the blind swordsman whose super-hearing and sensitivity enabled him to perform impressive feats of derring-do. This entry is somewhat slower-paced and less action-packed than would become the norm in later Zatoichi films (which would continue to be produced through 1973). There is only one major swordfight, near the very end, but at least it's a spectacular one, with Zatoichi (Shintaro Katsu) slashing opponents right, left, front and back, although the spurting bloodshed which would soon become a distinct feature of samurai films is noticeably absent here. Zatoichi himself is also considerably less superhuman than he appears in later films.

Instead, the emphasis is Zatoichi's role as mediator in a conflict between gang bosses in a town he is visiting solely to pay respects to the mother of a gang member he'd killed who'd been seeking the ten gold coin bounty on Zatoichi's head. The complex interrelationships among the characters center chiefly around two young women, one of them a former lover of Zatoichi's who is now the wife of a sword-for-hire seeking to sell his services to one of the wily bosses. Zatoichi sides with the underdog, Sakichi, who'd reluctantly inherited his father's territory but would rather marry the other young woman, Onobu (Miwa Takada), the pretty young daughter of the innkeeper, a once-powerful gang boss bearing a powerful grudge because he'd lost his territory to Sakichi's father. The gang bosses pressure the vulnerable Sakichi to use Zatoichi's trust to set a trap for him. The stage is then set for a series of confrontations that culminate in the final battle.

It may be slow going for most action and swordplay buffs, but it has a formal beauty that later films in the series dispensed with in favor of more visceral thrills. The polished camerawork, largely on location, gives us stately compositions focused on the characters and their relationships. A sparing score by venerated composer Akira Ifukube adds a touch of class. Samurai films of the time routinely boasted such visual and aural elegance long before the audience demanded more bloodshed and a more excessive approach in later films (see, especially, the "Lone Wolf and Cub" series).