Ten to Chi to

This movie has been one that I've been searching for years. It has left that kind of impression on me. The story and historical value of this movie has allowed me to visualize a better understanding of those feudal times.

The only problem is that I'm still searching to obtain a copy. If you have any ideas where to look, it would be greatly appreciated.

This is one of the prettier films I've seen with some wonderful cinematography and beautiful scenery. It's the reason I kept the film for quite a while, because the story was uninvolving. All the characters sound the same with a lot of the grunting macho male voices. The Japanese seem to show this in a number of films and is so foreign to our culture, it's hard to relate.

This is a story about two warriors - one shown in orange and the other in black, but it really wasn't good guy-versus-bad guy, just two people battling over land. Boy, that sounds familiar, as you know. Countries do the same, unfortunately.

This movie, according to critics, was supposed to have some fantastic action scenes. Well, let's just say that's not the case; the action scenes are very overrated.

Great visuals are the attraction here; not much else. Still, it's a shame something this beautiful is not available on DVD.

Sometimes it feels like a disadvantage to watch as many movies as I do, and as huge a variety. I've watched revered jidaigeki classics from the likes of Kurosawa Akira and Kobayashi Masaki; I've watched middling U. S. action flicks and B-movies, including some that to one degree or another play loosely and indifferently with aesthetics lifted from Japan or China. Maybe it has something to do with the production having filmed in Canada, and I double and triple-checked to try to be sure that I wasn't missing some crucial detail - but in watching this 1990 period piece, frankly I discern as many similarities with the latter as with the former. There is a jarring discrepancy between those facets that unquestionably reflect earnest mindful care, and those that seem to have received the benefit of notably less attention or resources. The sum total is still enjoyable in some measure, but there's a clash of styles and quality throughout the whole runtime that makes me feel as if I were watching two different versions of the same film smashed together into one. It's kind of unpleasant and uncomfortable, and not in a manner that has anything to do with the ugliness of war as depicted herein. I'm glad that I watched, but how much is that really saying?

The foremost visuals and ardor of the production unmistakably belong to the cinema of filmmaker Kadokawa Haruki and his countrymen, and there was seemingly no expense spared. Epic battle scenes are rendered with countless horses and extras, thousands of props, weapons, and suits of armor, and the magnificence of enormous battlefields. The stunts, effects, choreography, and otherwise action sequences are outstanding and invigorating, and one wishes that we saw still more of them. This is to say nothing, broadly, of the terrific production design and art direction. The sets are utterly fantastic, and likewise the costume design, hair, and makeup. The filming locations are plainly gorgeous. At its best Kadokawa's direction is impeccable in orchestrating shots and scenes, and the cinematography is unfailingly smart, whether we're watching stark violence unfold or a quiet scene of dialogue between two characters. 'Heaven and Earth' is beautifully shot, and it's a sight for sore eyes that in its fundamental presentation fits right in with esteemed classics like Kurosawa's epics 'Ran,' or 'Kagemusha.'

On the other hand, this Japanese picture, that was filmed in the Japanese language, includes narration in English from a man whose timbre recalls Peter Falk narrating 'The Princess Bride,' but with a less sincere diction. The music is defined largely by so-so MIDI themes produced on a keyboard that would feel more at home in a low-grade sci-fi flick, or maybe a PC videogame from the early to mid-90s, and the drama and thrills are sadly undercut to a considerable extent. The editing and sequencing come off as a little brusque and sometimes sloppy, a far cry from the meticulous craftsmanship we expect based on jidaigeki from the previous several decades. Even if we make allowances for weak translation in subtitles to convey information in a different language, every now and again the dialogue comes off as weirdly oversimplified and dull, and the same verbiage could be applied to the scene writing. Actually, I'm not so impressed with the screenplay at all; Kadokawa, Kamata Toshio, Keynji Chogoro, and Yoshiwara Isao give us a feature that majorly emphasizes its battles, and the otherwise grandeur of the visuals, while oddly skimping on the plot that provides context for what we're watching. Case in point, Usami is treated so lightly in the script that his actions relative to Kagetora pretty much seem to come out of nowhere, and there is absolutely no weight behind what happens between the two men. In another example, a supporting character that is important to a primary one dies off-screen, but since they were barely part of the tale to begin with, their loss means nothing to the audience. The story requires these events to transpire, and so they do, but the incidence holds no water.

Further complicating matters, though Kadokawa arranges scenes in general, battle scenes particularly, and wide, sweeping vistas with a mind for that visual splendor, in the smaller, more specific instances of guiding his cast and informing the camerawork, to be honest his work comes across as halfhearted and middling. The final scene between Usami and Kagetora is executed with sloth and apparent hesitance that has nothing to do with the emotions the figures may be feeling and everything to do with how actors Enoki Takaaki and Watase Tsunehiko are moving and expressing themselves. Later, as the camera slowly revolves around Enoki in a somber moment, it is with a speed that undercuts the drama of the beat. The action sequences are truly phenomenal, and the overall excellence of the the sights to greet us no less so in a production that was accordingly massively expensive by any prior standards of the Japanese industry. So why does it seem as if the title was shortchanged with regards to the minutiae that help to bring the best value to bear? Did those involved have a very limited skill set that resulted in this dichotomy? Was the budget so pointedly devoted to the battles and visuals that all other elements were bereft, and the contributors had to make do? In one fashion or another, there are two halves that comprise the whole that is 'Heaven and Earth,' and they are not equal, identical halves.

For what it does well I want to like this far, far more than I do; I cannot overstate how superb the battle sequences are, likely among the very, very best that have ever been produced in the medium. For where it strangely falls short, sacrificing other key aspects to hyper-focus on the battles and visuals, I'm aghast, and flummoxed. The disparity is glaring, and the movie in its entirety is gravely diminished in turn. Had all components been treated with equal skill, intelligence, and care, 'Heaven and Earth' would surely be hailed as one of the greatest pictures ever made; having not received the benefit of labor applied equally across the board, my favor drops precipitously. For as great as those battles and visuals are, it's not as if we can't get similar ardor elsewhere. The number of reasons there are to watch this instead of anything else are few. I do like this feature, but I also can't help wondering if I'm being to kind in my assessment. Do check it out, by all means, and for the especial parts that I've noted - but be well aware that 'Heaven and Earth' is a title split in two, and it is in turn both stupendous and tiresome.

One of my favorites, despite all the historical inaccuracies. As a Canadian, I feel a certain pride watching it repeatedly.

Filmed in Alberta, Canada for its wide open space and abundance of horses. Morley Flats standing in for the Plains of Kawanakajima. 3,000 Canadian extras and 1,000 horses were used for the huge battles. During the filming, several behind-the-scenes TV documentaries were made and I was fortunate to video-tape most of them.

Alberta's superb riders, cowboys and cowgirls, and native Americans, 1,000 of them were employed to appear as mounted samurai. 2,000 other extras were transported by schoolbuses to the shooting location to appear as samurai infantry. Many were young kids, many were young girls, because they were the right height to fit into the thousands of samurai armor used for the film. These extras were trained in spear-fighting and drilled to march in unison.

To hide their Caucasian features, the 3,000 Canadian extras all wore armoured face guards. These technically made them all Samurai. One of the flaws in the film, since the bulk of actual samurai armies were composed of peasant soldiers (ashigaru), whose faces would have been exposed and unarmoured.

As a Canadian, I still get chills watching the spectacular battle scenes. Those Canadians made fine samurai.

Visually a stunning film, Heaven and Earth lacks the character development of the later Last Samurai, and in the lead, perhaps suffers from the lack of Ken Watanabe's presence as well. The performances of the lead characters seemed wooden to me - almost stereotypes, staring, sometimes glaring at the camera as they deliver their dialog. Moments of introspection are rare and only once each are they allowed to show what might be considered a "softer side". What redeems the film is the story's pace, which is relentless, the cinematography, the narration - which ties the various segments together - and the outstanding battle scenes. One might wish for the lost minutes in the original Japanese version; perhaps they would provide what the film is missing. Even so, it was engaging and I had no difficulty keeping my attention on the film, and this fact was not due entirely to my need for the subtitles.