Chûshingura

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.

"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.

In 1962, Toho Ltd. released "Chuchingura" as an anniversary piece. At nearly four hours' length, it almost requires a devotion to Japanese cinema and the culture's many nuances to appreciate. But it is exquisitely filmed in Toho Vision, right down to the fluttering cherry blossoms and snow tumbling from trees, and the costumes, sets and makeup win my awards for best I've seen from Tokyo. Having been to Japan and studied Japanese literature and language in the '60s, it was fairly easy for me to get into the story. Indeed, it has been written about many times, and anyone who has read one of the stories should be able to follow the plot. Like many epic films, it begins to bog down in the center, as the ronin go their separate ways and take up all matters of industry and living conditions, fall in love or not, waiting for the day of retribution. We are led up to that point with the unfolding of the drama behind the story. The fast-paced conclusion brings it all together and ends, rather abruptly I thought, with a narrative about what happens once the deed was fulfilled. It's a story of loyalty and courage to the nth degree. The bushido code is one of Japan's most revered cultural elements and it is celebrated here. If you can tolerate the length, the film is definitely worth a look, if for no other reason than to understand more about what the Japanese samurai life in the 18th and 19th centuries was like.

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.

I first saw this very great film in the fall of 1965 when I started as a freshman at Cal. It had been playing at a local art house for ELEVEN months and, it being Berkeley, people were picketing to demand a new movie! I was lucky to have the chance to see it three times before it finally closed six weeks later. At the time, I thought it was UNDOUBTEDLY the greatest movie ever made, or ever likely to be.

Six years later, I had a second encounter with "Chushingura" when it was revived at an art house in San Francisco. A group of friends and I attended a showing where we were the only Caucasians in attendance -- EVERYONE ELSE in this 200+ seat cinema appeared to be Japanese or Japanese-American. It being the early '70s in the Bay Area, we had fully prepared ourselves to maximally enjoy the sheer visual beauties of this film. Sure enough, it was gorgeous, and we all muttered "wow" either singly and in chorus as we wallowed in the cinematographic feast.

But the stunning thing, to me, was the response of the Japanese/ Japanese-American audience. Utterly quiet throughout the movie, when the lights went up most of them had tears streaming down their cheeks --no vocal crying, mind you, just the overwhelming emotional response to a peak, deeply moving experience. I really envied them their cultural insight into the profoundly Japanese issues this masterpiece explores, something which as much as I admire "Chushingura" I must admit that as a Westerner I don't entirely comprehend.

The story is described elsewhere, so I'll focus first on the unparalleled BEAUTY of this movie. It is simply the most gorgeous thing ever committed to celluloid. Every single frame is like a perfect work of art, a series of superbly imagined Japanese images of nature and humanity which engulf your senses in endless, exquisite splendor. Next, "Chushingura" has stupendous pacing -- the shifts between tension and serenity, between lyricism and violence are expertly crafted, and the movie flows, sometimes majestically and sometimes in terrifying haste, to its incredibly exciting climax and compellingly tragic denouement. Finally, "Chushingura" explores deep themes of honor and loyalty, retribution and atonement, that may not resonate fully with a Western audience, but which nevertheless inspire awe and an enhanced curiosity about the culture and people that produced and are molded by them -- the culture that created this unforgettable cinematic masterwork.

Is "Chushingura" UNDOUBTEDLY the great movie ever? Maybe not, but it's definitely in the running with only a handful of other films for that exalted position.