Matt Cooper Films

Ichi (2008) by Fumihiko Sori

Haruka Ayase stars in this female-led reimagining of the famous tale of a wandering blind swordsman. The film begins with a brief backstory of “Ichi” (Ayase), a blind woman who is part of a group of Goze (travelling musicians). She is ostracised and expelled from the group for having lain with a man. She sets out to find her tutor, a blind swordsman. She meets a man, Toma (Takao Osawa), a samurai who seems to be completely hopeless with his sword. When the two of them are attacked by bandits, Ichi quickly dispatches them. Believing it was Toma, the Yakuza running the town, led by Toraji Shirakawa (Yosuke Kubozuka) decide to hire him as a bodyguard to help with their struggles against the nearby bandits led by Banki (Shido Nakamura). Still with hopes of finding her master, Ichi remains with Toma as the two prepare for a showdown with these violent outcasts.

The story of Zatoichi, the blind swordsman, has been told many times in film, and it is a tale that requires very few elements to be effective. Haruka Ayase gives a great performance in the lead role, both fearsome yet fragile. We learn about her backstory, the rape that she suffered and her expulsion from the group of goze, her struggles to form relationships with people and her quest to find a purpose in her life. She is also looking for a reason for the bloodshed and killing she seems incapable of escaping. Osawa’s Toma is likewise a troubled individual, battling his own demons that prevent him from becoming a great swordsman and living up to his father’s expectations of him. The film’s main weakness is that it spends little time on these interesting character aspects and instead forces the characters into less engaging conflicts with the villains. Shido Nakamura is clearly enjoying himself, gleefully hamming it up as Banki, alongside Riki Takeuchi as his chief henchman. Their cartoonish performances feel slightly out of place with the more moving scenes between Ichi and Toma. Where the action is concerned the film does an excellent job of portraying the elegance and fatal effectiveness of Ichi’s technique. There are several standout moments when it comes to the choreography, such as the attack on the village by bandits and Ichi’s showdown with them. Unfortunately, there is often a lack of realism in the film, which jars with its earnest attempts to garner sympathy for the characters. The costumes and sets are well designed, and thought has been put into them, but they are often so pristine looking and a lack of extras is to the film’s detriment when it comes to believability.

In trying to deliver both an energetic action film and a more character-driven drama, “Ichi” just misses the mark on both. The film’s central themes are those of discovering your purpose and understanding the value of human life. In a film that sees so many unceremoniously cut down it is an odd message to attempt to deliver. Ichi is a woman who is unable to see right from wrong as she puts it, having rejected notions of morality through her own harrowing experiences. She is desperately searching for guidance, exemplified in her quest to find her former master, and someone to show her the ‘light’ (to use the film’s own metaphor) out of her nihilistic impression of the world. The film is entertaining as a simple action tale, but it brushes too quickly over certain moments that would have leant some emotional depth and wastes a great performance from Haruka Ayase.

Matt Cooper Films

The Twilight Samurai (2002) Yoji Yamada

Following the death of his wife, a poor samurai, Seibei Iguchi (Hiroyuki Sanada), struggles to raise his two young daughters and keep his senile mother. His colleagues at the store-house nickname him “Twilight” as he always returns home early rather than join them for drinks. We learn that Seibei is a peaceful, forward-thinking man, who is skilled with a short sword. He is befriended by Tomoe (Rie Miyazawa) whom he has known since childhood, but their relationship is fraught with problems. Knowing of his skill with a sword the clan tasks him with the assassination of another rogue samurai, promising greater profits in return. At first hesitant, he acquiesces to this order from the lord.

Based on the short story “The Bamboo Sword” by Shuhei Fujisawa and directed by Yoji Yamada, the film creates an authentic period atmosphere, with expertly designed sets and costumes. The story is an archetypal samurai drama, with illicit romances, honour and ideals of war and peace played out perfectly. The audience is drawn in by the masterful direction, which really gives a feel of closeness with the characters. The acting is exceptionally emotive, and the young child actors are particularly good in their roles.

Myriad themes are interwoven, but above all it is the story of a generation of samurai becoming obsolete. Seibei’s peaceful, unprejudiced ideologies are mocked in the film, but will resonate with modern audiences. This tragic yet uplifting story of the passing of the samurai age is a must watch.

Matt Cooper Films

Seven Samurai (1954) by Akira Kurosawa

A small farming village in feudal Japan is facing starvation as their crops are being taken by bandits. They set out to look for samurai who they can hire to protect them. The first Kanbei (Takashi Shimura), recruits five more, and they are later joined by the unusual Kikuchiyo (Toshiro Mifune), a commoner who claims to be a samurai. Together they return to the village to defend it from the bandits.

The film is epic in scope with many characters and situations to explore. The plot is relatively straight-forward, but beautifully executed and, despite a long running time, it holds the viewer’s interest throughout. Akira Kurosawa’s direction is instrumental in creating a sense of momentum and the expert composition of shots would inspire filmmakers for generations to come. The music by Fumio Hayasaka is tense and dramatic and used sparingly. There are many scenes where the painting-like shots are left to be appreciated in silence. The cast all do a superb job, Toshiro Mifune again proves to be Kurosawa’s muse, having many hilarious moments in the comic role of Kikuchiyo. Takashi Shimura as the leader of the group, who must gather together this gang of seven to defend the village, also manages to carry the sense of stoic leadership and martial prowess.

Essentially an action film, “Seven Samurai” takes its time in building up the characters and the set-pieces are far from gratuitous, being carried out with real emotion. Through the film run undercurrents of philosophical and moral concepts, with the samurai code of conduct scrutinized and the struggles and fortitude of the common man praised. A film worthy of the accolades and recognition it has received.

Matt Cooper Films

Bloody Spear at Mount Fuji (1955) by Tomu Uchida

Genpachi (Chiezo Kataoka) and Genta (Daisuke Kato) are retainers to samurai Sakawa Kojuro (Teruo Shimada), on their way to Edo. Along the road they meet various fellow travellers. A young boy interested in becoming a spear-carrier like Genpachi, a shamisen player (Chizuru Kitagawa) and her daughter, a policeman on the trail of a thief, among others. The fates of everyone on the road become intertwined with both humorous and tragic results.

“Bloody Spear at Mount Fuji” is directed by Tomu Uchida from a script by Shintaro Mimura and Fuji Yahiro. It is an interesting story with both comedic elements and more serious social themes explored through the various characters. The humour may be a little outdated and slapstick but the two servants Genpachi and Genta are likeable and relatable enough, carrying the burden of supporting their master on his journey. In the later half of the film the tone shifts and is much more downbeat and pessimistic. The cinematography is well-done and in particular the staging and framing of every shot shows a masterful understanding of technique, utilising theatrical staging with more modern techniques such as overhead shots.

The film has a strong social message regarding the class system that is as strikingly relevant today as it was at the time of release, and even during the period when the film is set. Our attention is drawn early to the various professions of the travellers on the road, in particular the difference between the status of Genpachi and Genta and their master Kojuro. The turning point of the film comes when Kojuro receives the praise for the actions of Genpachi and we realise that respect is something that is inherited rather than earned. The film augments this central theme with the characters of the mother whose daughter is to be sold into prostitution. Also, with the arrogance of the samurai whom Kojuro meets later in the film. It is a passionate appeal that a person’s worth not be judged by their social standing, but by their actions. At the end of the film, Genpachi warns the boy not to become a spear-carrier. This may be a plea to the audience that they should never be bound by the disputes of others, or a more pessimistic acknowledgement of an unavoidable fate. One of the characters earlier in the film makes reference to the fact they everyone has a master, “But who is the lord’s master?” he asks. A deity? Are we doomed from birth to walk a particular path. And does it always end in violence?

Matt Cooper Films

Killing (2018)

Mokunoshin Tsuzuki (Sosuke Ikematsu) is a samurai boarding in a village of rural farmers. He has a relationship with one of the women in the village, Yu (Yu Aoi), and spars with her brother Ichisuke (Ryusei Maeda) daily. Their peaceful existence is interrupted by the appearance of another samurai, Jirozaemon Sawamura (Shinya Tsukamoto), whom they witness defeating another man in a duel. Sawamura conscripts the Mokunoshin and Ichisuke to join him on a trip to Edo and Kyoto, which they agree with, Mokunoshin reluctantly and Ichisuke happily. Sadly, their plans are disrupted by the appearance of a group of ronin whom the villagers fear are there to rob them. Events soon turn violent and Tsuzuki is caught up in a world of death that he had avoided until then.

Written and directed by Shinya Tsukamoto, “Killing” is on the surface a simple samurai story, though with a dark subtext. The sets and costume design are perfectly evocative of the period and the score by Chu Ishikawa compliments the action perfectly with drums and traditional instrumentation. Where the film strays from the well-trodden path of other samurai dramas is in its arthouse aesthetic. The story is pared back to its essentials, that is to say it is about the taking of life and what this means for the person who does it. The sword-fighting and sparring sequences are well-choreographed and have a fluidity and intensity that makes them a joy to watch. When real swords are used, the film does not shy away from blood spatter and some wince-inducing injuries. There is also humour, often darkly comic, employed to great effect. Tsukamoto is a director with a unique style and will often use a conventional idea in an unusual way. One example is in a scene between Tsuzuki and Yu, that is both tender and erotic without being explicit. It also, as with many other scenes, manages to capture wordlessly yet perfectly exactly what the relationship is between the characters. Dialogue is often sparse with the performances speaking for themselves and the cast do an excellent job with their roles. Ikematsu is brooding and troubled with the path he is set on; Yu Aoi is a tough foil for him, the emotional mirror to the seemingly cold samurai characters. Tsukamoto himself is suitably intimidating as the deadly swordsman, almost personifying death itself. Certain stylistic flourishes, such as darkening the camera, are used sparingly but to great effect throughout. The film’s simplicity may not appeal to everyone, but it allows the themes room to breathe and allows the audience to experience the emotional turmoil of the characters without the need to follow excessive characters or subplots.

As the title suggests, this is a film about killing. Tsuzuki is a man who shies away from violence. His life in the village, despite daily training, is an easy one and he appears comfortable. Sawamura’s appearance is almost like a dark spirit descending on the villagers. The notion of a spirit becomes more apparent at the very end of the film as an unseen force seems to be drifting through the forest searching for its next victim. Sawamura tells Tsuzuki that to not use his sword makes it meaningless. He exists to kill. In this way Sawamura represents the very evil of murder itself, appearing in this rural idyll and setting of a catastrophic chain of events. “Killing” also discusses the theme of revenge, whether it is ever justified and whether a cycle of revenge can ever be broken. ‘Kill or be killed’ is an oft used phrase, but this film exposes the horror of the sentiment in recognizing that there is no good option. Of course, most would consider killing to be preferable, but that leads to a loss of self that is almost as devastating as being killed. “Killing” examines this moral conundrum in a way that leaves a lasting impression, building to a darkly satisfying climax. The film is a philosophical take on the popular samurai genre that dissects what it means to kill and whether killing strips us of our humanity.