Seven Samurai (1954) September 3, 2008
Posted by Cal in : War, 1950s films , 3 commentsDirector: Akira Kurosawa Main Cast: Takashi Shimura; Toshirô Mifune; Yoshio Inaba; Daisuke Katô; Seiji Miyaguchi; Minoru Chiaki; Isao Kimura Territory: Japan
“This may be the one that kills us” - Kambei
In the 16th Century, during the age of Japan’s bloody civil wars, a small village is in imminent danger of being over-run by bandits, until the village elder declares that they must hire Samurai to protect them. Six Ronin are gathered, and due to hardships of their own, agree to work simply for food. A seventh, pretending to be a Samurai but actually an orphan farmer, follows behind and is eventually accepted into the group. Together with the villagers, the Samurai defend the village from the bandit horde.
Seven Samurai is often cited as the first modern action movie, and it’s easy to see why – the film feels a lot more current than a film from 1954 should be. A lot of this is down to techniques, both in scripting and direction, which were new then and are still in use today. More importantly, it’s also a fantastic film, and one that has earned its status as an immortal classic.
“A true Samurai never drinks enough to dull his wits” - Kambei
The characters of the Samurai themselves are captivating. Kambei (Takashi Shimura) is approached by the villagers after they see him perform an act of heroism while on their travels looking for suitable recruits. We first meet him in a town where he agrees to rescue a child from a thief holding him hostage in a barn. Kambei shaves his head (removing his topknot – a shocking thing for a Samurai to do) and poses as a monk to rescue the child. We then learn he is a veteran of many battles, all of which he fought on the losing side. He is followed in town by a young idealistic Samurai called Katsushiro (Isao Kimura), who Kambei takes under his wing. Kambei then assumes the lead and recruits the other Samurai, starting with the archer Gorobei (Yoshio Inaba) who joins simply because he likes Kambei’s character. Then a chance meeting with an old war comrade and Shichiroji (Daisuke Katô) is brought on board followed by Kyuzo (Seiji Miyaguchi), an elder Samurai who’s an expert swordsman, and Heihachi, “an amusing man” and provider of moral support. Armed with six Samurai, they are heading back to their village when they notice they are being followed by Kikuchiyo (Toshirô Mifune), a wannabe Samurai and a figure of fun for the group.
It is Mufune’s character who is the focus of most of the film. He is both the unlikely hero and the comic relief. He is illiterate and shows the other Samurai a stolen family tree, in the hope of proving himself to be a nobleman – except when he points to himself on paper, he chooses a thirteen-year-old’s identity, and the name – Kikuchiyo – is a girl’s. It’s a gag that still works today (as well as him carrying a sword too big to compensate for his lack of ability) and further adds to the film’s timeless quality. But Kikuchiyo is more than comic relief; he ends up as the real thing.
Subtlety is the key to the characterisation, and the film itself most of the time. Although it does dip into melodrama on a few occasions, given the strength of the remaining material it’s easy to overlook a couple of minutes’ worth of arms flailing about and uncontrollable wailing (by the villagers, not the Samurai, obviously). The film does run for an extraordinarily long time (well over three hours in NTSC) but, like a true classic, never outstays its welcome. The length is necessary for the viewer to bond with the characters (especially Kyuzo, I find, as he tends to be in the background a lot).
“Two more down” - Kyuzo
It’s difficult to begin to give any critical analysis of the film as so many quotes and images pop up in your head when thinking back to it. A brief few snapshots: Kyuzo disappearing into the night to get one of the muskets from the bandits without fuss, ceremony or false modesty; Kikuchiyo showing up for his audition blind drunk and claiming to be a 13 year old girl; the defence of the village by trapping one or two bandits at a time within the village itself; Kambei shaving his topknot off to save the child; Shichiroji’s sinisterly happy smile when Kambei tells him that this job might be the one that kills them; the revenge attack on the bandit stronghold; Kikuchiyo finally proving his worth on the battlefield. The highlights are literally too many to name.
“By protecting others, you save yourself” - Kambei
After a time, you grow intimate with the village and its inhabitants. You don’t need to be told that, near the end of the movie, the place where all the villagers are waiting with their bamboo pikes is the north of the town because we already know the place like the back of our hand. We know that the three buildings lying outside the protected area are doomed but a necessary loss to protect the rest of the village, and are annoyed at those who selfishly want to save them for their own purpose. We identify with Yohei (Bokuzen Hidari), the elderly farmer, because he is the everyman, and ourselves.
All of this (and more) makes Seven Samurai one of the greatest films I’ve ever seen. I know it’s on a lot of “top films” lists, but I generally don’t agree with such things. This is definitely an exception, and if you haven’t seen it yet, prepare to be engrossed in these Samurai’s small but significant world.
I defended my post” - Yohei
For the second time in as many weeks, I feel compelled to mention the DVD release of the film. I’ve seen this film on both the BFI and Criterion release (not on the same evening, though!). Though the Criterion 3 Disc set is nothing short of beautiful, the less-expensive BFI disc is not inferior in terms of transfer. Obviously, there are fewer extras on the latter, stretching only to an audio commentary (I guess there wasn’t much else they could fit on the disc). The extras on the Criterion release are great – a cosy two-hour chat with Kurosawa in his own living room and a very interesting fifty-minute documentary on the film being the most noteworthy, as well as a lovely little booklet of essays and interviews to round off the package. I do have an issue with them both though and it’s about the subtitles. The BFI release is excellently subtitled but occasionally neglects to subtitle short responses or people just shouting out someone’s name, which I found a little annoying. The Criterion disc addresses this but it does tend to use modern Americanised English quite a lot, which definitely feels out of place in a film about 16th Century Japan. These minor gripes aside, you can’t really go wrong with either disc. Another small piece of advice: the Criterion disc seems to run a lot longer than the BFI disc even taking the Pal speedup into consideration. I’m reasonably certain there’s nothing missing in the BFI version, and note that the Criterion disc includes the intermission segment.
“In the end, we lost this battle too” - Kambei