O Samurai do Entardecer

"Twilight Samurai (Tasogare Seibei)" is a domestic drama and romance set in a very specific historical and cultural setting amidst civil strife, recalling "Cold Mountain."

As in much of the cross-fertilization of samurai movies and Westerns such that one can easily imagine a Westernized version, the opening situation recalls "Unforgiven," where a retired gunfighter just wants to be left alone to farm and raise his children and tries to resist pressures to stop putting his fighting skills under a literal grubby basket.

Hiroyuki Sanada gives a superbly nuanced performance as a rebel against the expectations of being the lowest of a high class in a rigidly caste society by embracing the sarcastic titular sobriquet. He is painfully reluctant that he is ever so circuitously revealed to be much more. World weary yet still proud, he gropes for words to explain to his shocked patriarch why he, as an indebted widower, prefers to come home straight from work to see his daughters grow up day by day than follow the family's dictates and anguishes to his best friend about his marriage prospects.

Gradually, surprising people around him are revealed to be as equally complex and frustrated with the roles their society insistently demands even as small step by suffocating step political and social webs inexorably ensnare them tighter and tighter. The flashes of their assertions of their individuality in unexpected moments make for quiet, gripping moments of tension and relief. As his returning childhood friend, Rie Miyazawa has a beautiful, spirited feminity that makes Sanada seem even more of a macho hunk in contrast.

A kind of Jane Austen action flick, it is the kind of movie where antagonists' stares make you hold your breath in suspense and the touch of a hand brings forth your tears.

The translator made a policy decision of just transliterating many traditional Japanese terms, from "sensei" to various styles of sword-fighting, etc. rather than try to find English equivalents. While their meaning can be pretty much inferred from context, it did help that post "Kill Bill" I've been making up for a benighted education that lacked samurai movies and Japanese history.

I found the voice-over narration by the younger daughter a bit schmaltzy and unnecessary. The closing song seemed jarringly period-inappropriate; if it wasn't a Japanese cover of Bob Dylan's "To Make You Feel My Love" then it was a real close imitation with the only clue in English that it was used with permission of EMI.

This is the first of novel adapter/director Yoji Yamada's 77 films that I've seen and I certainly now want to see more.

I saw this film last night with my nephew, and chose it simply because the title was interesting and it was playing at the local art house, so I gave it a shot. As I am a bit disillusioned by the Oscars these days I don't pay much attention to them, I was unaware that this film was a huge success in Japan and received a Best Foreign Film nomination. What I received in return for my curiosity was one of the best foreign films that I have seen in a long, long time.

The crux of the film is the relationship between personal honor and social honor. Iguchi is indeed a most honorable man. He truly loves his children and his senile mother, and sacrifices his dignity and station to care for them. He works from dawn to dusk, attending his duties with the court by day and working on his farm by night, somehow finding time to also sell handmade insect/bird cages just to help his family get by. He does all this even though it soon becomes apparent that he has no equal as a swordsman, and in that right alone deserves the respect of those who deride him. We come to understand that selfless sacrifice is the single greatest act of honor, especially when one can still consider himself a blessed man. However, the personal honor that Iguchi wields even more skillfully than his sword becomes at odds with the social honor that his status as a samurai calls for. This conundrum is the heart of almost every scene in the film, and reaches its peak as the story moves toward its climax. Though Iguchi tells his best friend that he would gladly surrender his status as a samurai to become a simple farmer, he finds himself unable to resist his call to duty under the code of the samurai. He knows that to be honorable in his duty as a samurai, he must compromise his honor as a man. How can he kill a man to fulfill the unjust motives of his clan, especially when the man he is fighting is so much like himself?

The direction of the film is beautifully impressionist. Yamada crafts pictures of everyday life which gives us an inherent understanding of the life of Iguchi. In one scene, he sits dejectedly on his doorstep after coming home in the rain, lamenting the holes in his socks while his squire stands outside in the downpour. In another, he quietly applies his perfectionism to the construction of his cages in his dark and dirty living room while his family sleeps. In yet another, he shares a meal with his family as they laugh and enjoy each other's company. Yamada's eye for imagery, in combination with his patient and subtle storytelling, are reminiscent of great impressionist directors such as Ozu, Tarkovsky, and Malick. There are many other memorable images in this film, many of which depict the duality of nature. In one scene we see soldiers learning to fire rifles under the spring buds of a lotus tree. In another we see men fishing along a sapphire blue river, with golden fields behind them and a stunning, snow-capped Mount Fuji on the horizon-- and the bodies of starved peasant children floating down the river.

This is a great film. See it.

The settings and photography in this film are not "grand" but give the impression of realism and the grittiness of life in feudal times. The storytelling devices and attention to detail are core to the feeling I took away from this film, which was one of dipping into a tiny slice of time but seeing a myriad of ageless issues (honour, duty, grief, non-ambition, family priorities). However, what really impressed me was the way the main part (played by Hiroyuki Sanada) grew through the film. At the beginning of the film he seemed physically smaller, his whole demeanour and features were weak and insignificant. Having never seen him act before, I felt I was going to struggle to relate to this man as a lead role. It was incredible to see him (partly through acting and partly through subtle directing) grow into the figure we see at the end; he's taller with wide shoulders and strong features, yet remains a gentle and humble man. This is a very touching film and one which I could definitely watch over and over.

Hiroyuki Sanada (Western audiences may recognize him from his recent turn as Ujio from The Last Samurai, 2003), carries this film with his masterful acting, making the portrayal of "Tasogarei Seibei" (a.k.a. a samurai jokingly called "Twilight" by his colleagues), a poignant and memorable portrayal of a true hero.

Sanada plays Seibei Iguchi, a poor, 50-koku ranked samurai who has to support his two daughters and a senile mother, due to the passing away of his wife. The structure and plot turns of the story are simple, but fascinating to watch unfold, and it is perhaps the simplicity and novelistic grace of the narrative that makes the film so remarkable. Seibei works as a scribe with his fellow samurai, and always has to rush home after work to attend to his duties as a father. He lets hygieine slowly slide into second priority (resulting in rather unkempt clothes and socks), but in general, he doesn't seem to care: his two daughters he treasures above all other things. When a woman named Tomoe, a childhood friend that Seibei was particularly fond of, suddenly re-appers into his life, Seibei makes certain decisions that he ultimately ends up regretting later. The rest of the story is full of very interesting plot develoments, playing with the audience's expectations (especially with the relationship between Tomoe and Seiebi), and although the film is not a traditional samurai film in that it does not have alot of action scenes, the composition of the tale, and its "storytelling" invocation (one of the daughters narrates) is good enough to keep you watching.

Hiroyuki Sanada playing Seibei is really a marvel to watch; he adds a very sensible depth and modesty to the character, and infuses it with some understated comic acting as well. At the end of the film, after the climatic final battle, Sanada is able to make the character of Seibei resonate with a very unconventional but nonetheless strong and beautiful heroism. Sanada is really a very talented thespian, and in this film, you may get to sample the sheer range of his great technique. For the world-class acting work he did in this film, he won a Japanese Academy Award, and the film also got noticed by the Oscars (nominated for Best Foreign Language Film, 2004). If there's a chance your able to catch this film in a local theatre (usually, it plays at Landmark) do so, you won't regret it. You'll be able to watch an excellent story unfold, and also see some of the finest acting in world cinema today.

There were a couple times when I felt this film was veering into MacDonald's-commercial domestic shmaltz, but other than that, this movie was utterly perfect.

I've never been much of a fan of samurai movies, or any other kind of movies that glorify the facile wholesale slaughter of other human beings. So this movie was a real breath of fresh air in how it showed the real place that such samurai fighting occupied in that bygone era in Japan.

But the real star of this film is Seibei himself, his daughters, and his love, Tomoe. And their story is so real, so believable, so moving, it was just incredible.

It's a real shame that this title does not seem to be available on video or DVD in the US. This is one title I'd really like to add to my library.