Chûshingura

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.

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.

It is unfortunate, to say the least, that the original 1962 incredibly loving critiques are no longer in print regarding the true nature of the origin, history and creation of this film. When I first saw it in 1963 (at the Castro, I believe, in S.F.) there was a lengthy story "blown up" on display board in the entryway. This film was a one-of-a- kind deliberate and heartfelt "gift to the world", created by a group of Japanese artists using film as their medium. This particular film was a reflection of what happened in the hearts of sentient Japanese artists AFTER Japan's defeat in WWII. Out of profound dignity they crafted this film to tell of the truest, deepest beauty of their culture, revealing it through the vulnerable opening of their hearts and sharing the story of the true Japan. In a manner similar to "The Passion" of our time, there was always a great historical purpose to this gift -- not merely a commercial undertaking. Thus, I believe the HISTORY of this film holds an even more noble place than the film itself, which happens to be a masterpiece painted with the love of its creators.