Chushingura

"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.

Inagaki's Chushingura is a big-screen film. The colours are vivid, the composition meticulous, and the various characters disappear for long periods requiring concentration to remember who's who. Modern audiences used to more nuanced characters in period pieces (such as The Assassination of Jesse James, or Twilight Samurai) might find this straight telling of the tale in undiluted terms slightly twee. Indeed, Chusha Ichikawa as the villain Kira is the film's major flaw, a pantomime villain, lecherous and mean-spirited, who seems to be mugging it up for people in the back row. Dated characterisation aside, the telling of this tale earns your tears at the end as the worthy assailants troop off to Edo castle to meet their unhappy destiny, the actual moment of seppuku relegated to a final credit-roll.

More modern renditions of Chushingura have focused on the inner human conflict, the lovers thwarted by demands of loyalty and honour. Inagaki unashamedly keeps his narrative on surface events, preferring to wow the audience with scale and spectacle. Japanese audiences come to the film the way Brits come to the tale of Robin Hood, with an inner template of longing for values cherished but long gone. Their eyes are already moist in the ticket queue. Western audiences less familiar with the tale of the 47 ronin might get a little lost in the narrative, but the pace of events and elegiac sense of living a life for a higher purpose is conveyed to universal appeal. Excellent music score.

This story of the 47 loyal ronin (ronin is a Japanese word for a master-less samurai) is based on actual events that took place in 1701 and 1702--although some of the exact details are uncertain (including the actual number) . What is certain is that a feudal lord attempted to murder on of the Shogun's trusted men in one of the royal castles. As a result, the attempted murderer was ordered to commit ritual suicide and his retainers (now ronin) vowed revenge on the man almost killed. What the exact insult was is lost to history, but the tale is considered a classic and most Japanese people are very familiar with it.

It would have a very hard time giving any version of this story a 10 because there are so very many that you can't give them anything for originality. According to IMDb, on Japanese TV alone, something like a dozen different versions were made just during one decade! And, as far as movies go, there are also quite a few. I've seen the classic 1941 version and found it to be very, very different from CHUSHINGURA because it was much more nationalistic and seemed, at times, like wartime propaganda (albeit, very good propaganda) AND because the film was much more fast-moving--skipping much of the setup that you find in this remake. In other words, in 1941, the insult and the attempted murder take place very early into the film and here in 1962, it doesn't occur until about an hour into the film. In fact, while an amazingly well made film, CHUSHINGURA is perhaps too deliberately paced and could have used an edit. While I like very long films, this one just wasn't paced well enough to merit its 3-1/2 hour running time. At 2-1/2 or 3 hours, it would have played better.

As for the acting, sets and everything else about the film, it was all first-rate. The film was obviously a prestige film and as a consequence was filmed in lovely full-color. In fact, other than the pacing and ubiquity of the plot, it's a very well made and interesting film--probably even more so in Japan, where it's a beloved tale illustrating loyalty and honor.

Finally, it should be noted that although Toshirô Mifune is shown on the DVD art and all the pictures here on IMDb, his role is very small and this is definitely a film with a large ensemble cast--not a Mifune film per se. His fans might be disappointed by this and you might want to consider this before you watch.

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 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.