Le samouraï du crépuscule

Twilight Samurai

I don't have a top ten list of all time favorite films but if I did Twilight Samurai would be on it. Nominated for best foreign film the same year that the Hollywood film the last samurai got a few nominations it is impossible not to compare the two. While I enjoyed the Last Samurai and it's message of questioning western cultural imperialism Twilight Samurai is a film on whole different level.

LS is a bloated Hollywood epic that delivers intense battles with huge numbers and a unrealistic unsatisfying bullshit love story. Do we really believe that the woman who lost her husband to Tom Cruise the smelly drunk white would fall in love with him?

Twilight Samurai is the opposite in everyway and in everyway it is a better film that is bound to move to tears the hardest of yall out there. It is the story of a petty samurai who after the long lingering death of his wife finds himself become a devoted father.

When Twilight comes and the other samurai go out to drink, he rushes home to clean the house, tend the field and care for his daughters. He has lost track of his imagine, he smells and all he cares about is what is best for his daughters.

When his childhood crush returns and revolution looms this petty samurai is forced into confronting his status as a samurai. Unlike last samurai the small battle between two samurai's at the end is more emotionally involved that any CGI enhanced battle could ever be. The romance in the film is so sweet, tender and believable that is makes the film special.

This could not be as special as it is without excellent acting, direction and above all writing. Holy crap see this movie.

I approached director Yoji Yamada's period film anticipating the usual brew of flashing blades, unfathomable codes of honour and majestic arterial sprays but found instead a gently melancholic and beautifully played story of unspoken love and ethical struggle.

Seibei (a mesmerising less-is-more turn from Hiroyuki Sanada) is a low-ranking widowed samurai with a senile mother and two daughters, working in the castle's stores and taking in piecework to get by.

Grief at his wife's death has led him to turn his back on violence but he is confronted with it nonetheless, firstly as a result of the return of a childhood friend for whom he has strong feelings and who is fleeing her abusive marriage and, finally, when the politics of the day overtake his clan and he is ordered to carry out an assassination.

Seibei's struggle is not for outward respect but to find integrity within a social order over which he has no influence, making the bursts of violence all the more jarring.

Yamada's film is rightly compared to Kurosawa's work and its thoughtful, lyrical tone and themes resonate powerfully.

I had been waiting a very long time for this movie to be released in my area, so when the time came I was fairly excited. Often, when I expect a lot out of a movie I am disappointed and end up hating something that may not deserve it. In this case, however, it lived up to and exceeded my expectations. The story line, character development, framing, pacing and action were all absolutely top-notch in my opinion. The film stands as a stark contrast to many other movies set in the same time period in Japan and beyond that it also possesses a very universal appeal. It reminded me of other good dramas in its tone (at times even a bit like the film "In America") and it had funny moments as well as heart-wrenching sadness throughout. It was effective without being too melodramatic, and did a wonderful job of enticing the viewer to empathize with the main character. From a martial arts standpoint I thought that the techniques used were very realistically applied and not at all outside of the realm of what samurai in this time period would have been doing. The fights were tense but very realistic. The last duel was stylized to a greater degree, reminding me of certain moments in Kurosawa's films and by extension certain Kabuki influences. All in all it was a very strong film. It's deep enough that it could stand up to repeated viewing, and in the way of subtititled films it would actually get better each time. Even if the story doesn't interest you it would be worthwhile to see it for the natural beauty of the location and the shots anyway. One of the finest films about feudal Japan that I have seen, and one of the best films I've seen at all.

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.

"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.