1946 film
directed by Carmine Gallone
based on the play THE KING'S FOOL by Victor Hugo
and the opera by Giuseppe Verdi and Francesco Maria Piave
(1832 play - THE KING'S FOOL)
In his attempt to adapt Hugo's play to the Italian opera, Verdi came to discover just how unpopular a title it was amongst ruling parties. Nobody wanted to stage something where the king was an immoral, womanizing villain who led people down dark paths of sex and murder, so a back and forth began with censors that eventually allowed the production to be made. Albeit, with changes. The ruling monarch would now be a Duke, and his aged jester - whose daughter's innocence would be robbed in a malicious prank aimed at the prankster - would be called Rigoletto.
Being a complete layman when it comes to opera, I can't fairly get into details about singing ranges or song compositions, other than to say it was all nice and melodic and perfectly enhanced the story while driving it ever forward. However, I feel I can say a few things about the adaptation.
One of the main censorship issues is the stripping of much of the play's frank sexuality. Gone is the Duke sweeping from woman to woman during an opening ball. Gone is the open acknowledgement that he'd gone well beyond initial flirts with the wives and daughters of his angry court. Gone even is a clarification of a major shock in the middle that's meant to drive us through the dark second half. With it missing, much of where the tale goes feels nonsensical and extreme as bloody vengeance is sought for an act that either now didn't happen, or didn't go as far as it originally did. Once again, it's not clarified.
And in pulling up small moments to make into show numbers, some of the broader sweeps of the story are compressed in a way that make the play's genuine flaws more obvious, but without the great words of Hugo to gently push over them. An exiled old man who delivers a thematic curse? He was unnecessary there and is purely stapled on here. An assassin that plays a major part later on but is introduced rather haphazardly? The way he now just walks up to people and says "Got anyone you need me to kill?" is reckless nonsense that has me wondering what he's still doing on the street. A brutal, unforgettable sacrifice? Questionable there, rings totally hollow here. An ambiguously open finale? Feels entirely like the leadup to a non-existent final act.
But this isn't to say it's bad. A lot of the good stuff from the play is still great here, but what didn't work works even less, and some changes render the entire piece somewhat meaningless.
That's the opera, though, so let's move on to the broader film. Gallone, a famous director in the early years of Italian cinema, must have been a Verdi fan because he not only adapted several of the composer's works to the big screen, but even did a biopic of the man himself. Since many films back then were largely comparable to plays in their staging and design, it makes sense that he simply uses the actors, costumes, sets, and the very stage of the opera itself to make the movie, just ditching the audience and bringing his camera up with the actors. It works beautifully, the quiet yet precise cinematography showing off the huge, multi-tiered sets, which hold dozens of actors, each clad in meticulously textured and detailed outfits, all against lush, deep, partially animated backdrops.
The problem is the acting. As they pour forth from their talented diaphragms, most of the performers just stiffly drift from one pose to another with fixed expressions and little in the way of actual acting. I'm sure it sells just fine on a stage when seen from a distance, but this is the cinema, and once you put those people in medium-shots and close-ups, it feels hollow and forced. Even the able performers Mario Filippeschi, as the charming yet dastardly duke, and Marcella Govoni, as the jester's tragically innocent daughter, while they do slip some subtle flourishes in, painfully lack charisma when the camera nestles in tight.
The exception, however, is Tito Gobbi in the title role of Rigoletto the jester, who proves why he's a legend of the Italian stage. Even as he sinks into the necessary portrait poses, he's constantly moving, with an expressive face that's simultaneously subtle and broad, and dancing hands that search out business with his clothes or props or the arms of another actor. He truly lights up the screen, and when he laughs or cries, your emotions are right there with him.
It's an interesting film, one that should appeal to fans of opera, but I don't know that it would much interest anyone else, particularly with the story now lacking the ferocity of the punches Hugo gave it.
(clip of the famous song "La donna e mobile (How Fickle Women Are)")
(read)
(purchase)
(wikipedia)
(internet movie database)
March 24, 2010
March 23, 2010
Sanshiro Sugata 2
1945 film
written & directed by Akira Kurosawa
created by Tsuneo Tomita
(previous)
The last thing I expected to comes across in an early Kurosawa flick, particularly one still made during the War Years, was an American speaking English. But that's the very sight we open on as a U.S. Navy man (judging by the accent, though, not an American actor by birth) hassles a cab driver until he finds himself face to face with the master of Judo himself, Sanshiro Sugata. Ah, but it doesn't stop there. No, we go all the way to the American embassy itself where a boxer named William "The Killer" Lister takes on local Japanese fighters in what are billed "friendly relations" bouts, but are really just us yanks cheering on a fighting style without dignity and discipline. Or so says the propaganda film.
Which, to be honest, comes off a lot more genuinely amusing than insulting. When you consider the stooped, slant-eyed, buck-toothed gremlins we portrayed the Japanese people as in our wartime propaganda, seeing a not-far-off-the-mark image of us as barking sports nuts who occasionally stumble head first into pure buffoonery doesn't phase me one bit. And when Sanshiro eventually steps into the ring against The Killer (you just knew the plot was going there) I had no problem with finding myself cheering for the art of Judo to prevail over that of padded fisticuffs.
But that's not what this film is really about. The first movie, while still full of unconventional flourishes on Kurosawa's part, told a very conventional story about an undisciplined youth who becomes a respectful martial artist, defeating the sneering villain and getting the beautiful girl along the way. Here, we also hit many of the same marks martial arts movie fans have come to appreciate in sequels as the hero struggles to come to terms with his new-found fame while dealing with the younger brothers of the defeated sneering villain, who are out for full-on revenge. Oh, and he avoids his wife and sulks a lot because he blames himself for the death of her father.
But this is Kurosawa, so, even at this very early point in his career, he found ways to make something conventional feel fresh. Sanshiro, you see, has given Judo such a public boost that the other dojos, many of whom are fully respectable, have lost so many students that their masters have had to resort to paid fights in order to cover the bills. Sanshiro taking on Americans to boost Japanese pride is one thing, but how does a master fighter combat the unintended fruits of his victories? While the film never does give this a satisfactory answer, it is a fascinating question. And Kurosawa laces the film with other great flourishes, the best being a student walking in and bowing before his masters, shown repeatedly in a montage as he goes from a rambunctious youth to an experienced, confident man.
I was a little tough on Susumu Fujita in my review of the first flick, being off put by Sanshiro's occasional lunkheaded simplicity, but they really sold it to me this time around. This is a man who no longer takes pleasure in the defeat of his enemies, but will nurture them by their bed of recovery, even as they stare daggers in return. Or who laughs when some friends trick him with a throw because it's been so long since he hit the floor that he finds it refreshing. There's times where the character is almost too pure of heart and every mistake is justified as a necessary step on his chosen path, but, hey, it's a propaganda flick. At least it's not executed with as heavy a hand as it could have been.
But then there's the villains. Tesshin Higaki is the sneering double of his brother from the first film (both are actually played by Ryunosuke Tsukigata), always tensed and ready to pounce, though failing to show any actual fighting skill. Trailing by his side is the younger Genzakuro (Akitake Kono), whose grief and epilepsy have left him a shaggy-headed wacko. As with the first, there's a lot of promise built around the eventual confrontation, but when it comes on a snow-capped peak - in the midst of a Kurosawa storm, of course - I can, without a doubt, say it's the lousiest, most disappointing fight sequence ever put to film. I know, I know, this is before the fighting genre would be refined over the next few decades, but it's a glaring flaw, particularly in the wake of the two great fights held in the American boxing ring.
But, overall, this film is an improvement on the original, what with tighter shooting and editing, a smoother handle on the lead, and stronger world-building of the era. If you can get through the propagandist elements and predictable plotting, and can track an elusive copy down that doesn't come in an expensive box set, then check it out. It's an early display of the master filmmaker Kurosawa would become.
(purchase)
(wikipedia)
(internet movie database)
written & directed by Akira Kurosawa
created by Tsuneo Tomita
(previous)
The last thing I expected to comes across in an early Kurosawa flick, particularly one still made during the War Years, was an American speaking English. But that's the very sight we open on as a U.S. Navy man (judging by the accent, though, not an American actor by birth) hassles a cab driver until he finds himself face to face with the master of Judo himself, Sanshiro Sugata. Ah, but it doesn't stop there. No, we go all the way to the American embassy itself where a boxer named William "The Killer" Lister takes on local Japanese fighters in what are billed "friendly relations" bouts, but are really just us yanks cheering on a fighting style without dignity and discipline. Or so says the propaganda film.
Which, to be honest, comes off a lot more genuinely amusing than insulting. When you consider the stooped, slant-eyed, buck-toothed gremlins we portrayed the Japanese people as in our wartime propaganda, seeing a not-far-off-the-mark image of us as barking sports nuts who occasionally stumble head first into pure buffoonery doesn't phase me one bit. And when Sanshiro eventually steps into the ring against The Killer (you just knew the plot was going there) I had no problem with finding myself cheering for the art of Judo to prevail over that of padded fisticuffs.
But that's not what this film is really about. The first movie, while still full of unconventional flourishes on Kurosawa's part, told a very conventional story about an undisciplined youth who becomes a respectful martial artist, defeating the sneering villain and getting the beautiful girl along the way. Here, we also hit many of the same marks martial arts movie fans have come to appreciate in sequels as the hero struggles to come to terms with his new-found fame while dealing with the younger brothers of the defeated sneering villain, who are out for full-on revenge. Oh, and he avoids his wife and sulks a lot because he blames himself for the death of her father.
But this is Kurosawa, so, even at this very early point in his career, he found ways to make something conventional feel fresh. Sanshiro, you see, has given Judo such a public boost that the other dojos, many of whom are fully respectable, have lost so many students that their masters have had to resort to paid fights in order to cover the bills. Sanshiro taking on Americans to boost Japanese pride is one thing, but how does a master fighter combat the unintended fruits of his victories? While the film never does give this a satisfactory answer, it is a fascinating question. And Kurosawa laces the film with other great flourishes, the best being a student walking in and bowing before his masters, shown repeatedly in a montage as he goes from a rambunctious youth to an experienced, confident man.
I was a little tough on Susumu Fujita in my review of the first flick, being off put by Sanshiro's occasional lunkheaded simplicity, but they really sold it to me this time around. This is a man who no longer takes pleasure in the defeat of his enemies, but will nurture them by their bed of recovery, even as they stare daggers in return. Or who laughs when some friends trick him with a throw because it's been so long since he hit the floor that he finds it refreshing. There's times where the character is almost too pure of heart and every mistake is justified as a necessary step on his chosen path, but, hey, it's a propaganda flick. At least it's not executed with as heavy a hand as it could have been.
But then there's the villains. Tesshin Higaki is the sneering double of his brother from the first film (both are actually played by Ryunosuke Tsukigata), always tensed and ready to pounce, though failing to show any actual fighting skill. Trailing by his side is the younger Genzakuro (Akitake Kono), whose grief and epilepsy have left him a shaggy-headed wacko. As with the first, there's a lot of promise built around the eventual confrontation, but when it comes on a snow-capped peak - in the midst of a Kurosawa storm, of course - I can, without a doubt, say it's the lousiest, most disappointing fight sequence ever put to film. I know, I know, this is before the fighting genre would be refined over the next few decades, but it's a glaring flaw, particularly in the wake of the two great fights held in the American boxing ring.
But, overall, this film is an improvement on the original, what with tighter shooting and editing, a smoother handle on the lead, and stronger world-building of the era. If you can get through the propagandist elements and predictable plotting, and can track an elusive copy down that doesn't come in an expensive box set, then check it out. It's an early display of the master filmmaker Kurosawa would become.
(purchase)
(wikipedia)
(internet movie database)
March 16, 2010
The King's Fool
1832 play
written by Victor Hugo
(1946 film - RIGOLETTO)
Early in his career, just one year after publishing THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME, Victor Hugo wrote a play that was banned after a single performance. His ensuing lawsuit against the government - who claimed it was a thinly veiled parody of the current king - made him a beloved and revered symbol of freedom amongst the people.
The play itself opens with King Francis I of France, a devastatingly charming playboy who dances from one woman to another, regardless of class or marriage, leaving them all with feelings of satisfaction and devotion. This doesn't sit so well with the men of his court, many of whom have seen their own wives and mistresses swept up by the King's empty promises of eternal love. There's not much they can do without upsetting the entire political system, however, so they set their sights on the King's right-hand-man: his jester, Triboulet.
Though Triboulet sulks each night at all the taunts and jeers his job and King require him to hurl - regardless of the fact that it's aimed at people who would and do insult him merely for being an ugly hunchback - his public facade of crushing jokes has made him a constant thorn in a lot of the courtiers' sides. When they learn he's been sneaking into a quiet part of town to visit a young lady, they all devise a plot to introduce his mistress to the King so the joker will suffer the same humiliation as them.
But what they don't know is that the young lady, Blanche, isn't his mistress. She's his daughter. And she's a pure, innocent young woman who wants nothing more that to know who her father is and what he does and why he keeps her locked away. She, you see, is the one light of his life, and he wants to shelter her from the awful humiliation, corruption, and scandal he witnesses and takes part in on a daily basis.
For the first half of the play, it's a wild, satirical romp as the king drifts through a swirl of women at a party, all the courtiers bluster about with impotent anger at the handsome man stealing the brides from between their fat legs, and a kidnapping plot barely falls into place as Triboulet himself is tricked into unknowingly participating in his daughter's abduction. It really is quite funny and lively, culminating with the King's cheesy serenade once he finds himself face-to-face with the young Blanche.
But then, with a cry, the slam of a door, and a key in the smiling King's hand, the tone takes a dark turn. It's not easy to go from screwball to tragedy, but Hugo masterfully pulls it off with an increasingly tense sequence as the courtiers carry on with a joke they don't realize has lost its humor and Triboulet's snarky wit turns to desperate pleas, all while an unseen crime takes place in the next room.
It's devastating, gripping writing, but a lot of the plotting starts collapsing in upon itself. There's a lingering old man, the exiled father of a violated woman, who serves no purpose to the story than to needlessly foreshadow Triboulet's journey and make a cyclical point. There's a sibling pair of gypsy assassins (she seduces, he kills) who are clumsily introduced at random because they'll need to be called upon at a later time. And the ending. I just don't buy the ending. It not only lacks a true confrontation and makes an odd thematic digression, but it features a brutal twist that is nonsensically justified by the idea that every woman the King beds, even when presented with proof that his affections are false, still loves him so much that they'll either give their own lives or aim their vengeance at random strangers, sacrifices the King neither knows of nor cares to.
But I still liked the script. No matter how nonsensical the justification for the plot twists became, they were still pretty damn good twists, and the characters were so well written and defined that I felt every ounce of their betrayal and suffering. And Hugo is so great at painting unforgettable moments. A servant repeatedly reaching to the king for payment as she puts in numerous good words for him to a chick he's trying to bed. Triboulet holding his daughter close, comforting her, both lit only by the flashes of a raging storm. The two assassins sitting in a quiet living room, her sewing, him cleaning a belt, as they patiently wait for their intended victim to fall asleep upstairs.
This is the first piece of writing from Hugo I've ever read, so I don't know how representative it is of his broader body of work. But if half that stuff is this good, then it's no wonder he's a legend.
(read)
(wikipedia)
written by Victor Hugo
(1946 film - RIGOLETTO)
Early in his career, just one year after publishing THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME, Victor Hugo wrote a play that was banned after a single performance. His ensuing lawsuit against the government - who claimed it was a thinly veiled parody of the current king - made him a beloved and revered symbol of freedom amongst the people.
The play itself opens with King Francis I of France, a devastatingly charming playboy who dances from one woman to another, regardless of class or marriage, leaving them all with feelings of satisfaction and devotion. This doesn't sit so well with the men of his court, many of whom have seen their own wives and mistresses swept up by the King's empty promises of eternal love. There's not much they can do without upsetting the entire political system, however, so they set their sights on the King's right-hand-man: his jester, Triboulet.
Though Triboulet sulks each night at all the taunts and jeers his job and King require him to hurl - regardless of the fact that it's aimed at people who would and do insult him merely for being an ugly hunchback - his public facade of crushing jokes has made him a constant thorn in a lot of the courtiers' sides. When they learn he's been sneaking into a quiet part of town to visit a young lady, they all devise a plot to introduce his mistress to the King so the joker will suffer the same humiliation as them.
But what they don't know is that the young lady, Blanche, isn't his mistress. She's his daughter. And she's a pure, innocent young woman who wants nothing more that to know who her father is and what he does and why he keeps her locked away. She, you see, is the one light of his life, and he wants to shelter her from the awful humiliation, corruption, and scandal he witnesses and takes part in on a daily basis.
For the first half of the play, it's a wild, satirical romp as the king drifts through a swirl of women at a party, all the courtiers bluster about with impotent anger at the handsome man stealing the brides from between their fat legs, and a kidnapping plot barely falls into place as Triboulet himself is tricked into unknowingly participating in his daughter's abduction. It really is quite funny and lively, culminating with the King's cheesy serenade once he finds himself face-to-face with the young Blanche.
But then, with a cry, the slam of a door, and a key in the smiling King's hand, the tone takes a dark turn. It's not easy to go from screwball to tragedy, but Hugo masterfully pulls it off with an increasingly tense sequence as the courtiers carry on with a joke they don't realize has lost its humor and Triboulet's snarky wit turns to desperate pleas, all while an unseen crime takes place in the next room.
It's devastating, gripping writing, but a lot of the plotting starts collapsing in upon itself. There's a lingering old man, the exiled father of a violated woman, who serves no purpose to the story than to needlessly foreshadow Triboulet's journey and make a cyclical point. There's a sibling pair of gypsy assassins (she seduces, he kills) who are clumsily introduced at random because they'll need to be called upon at a later time. And the ending. I just don't buy the ending. It not only lacks a true confrontation and makes an odd thematic digression, but it features a brutal twist that is nonsensically justified by the idea that every woman the King beds, even when presented with proof that his affections are false, still loves him so much that they'll either give their own lives or aim their vengeance at random strangers, sacrifices the King neither knows of nor cares to.
But I still liked the script. No matter how nonsensical the justification for the plot twists became, they were still pretty damn good twists, and the characters were so well written and defined that I felt every ounce of their betrayal and suffering. And Hugo is so great at painting unforgettable moments. A servant repeatedly reaching to the king for payment as she puts in numerous good words for him to a chick he's trying to bed. Triboulet holding his daughter close, comforting her, both lit only by the flashes of a raging storm. The two assassins sitting in a quiet living room, her sewing, him cleaning a belt, as they patiently wait for their intended victim to fall asleep upstairs.
This is the first piece of writing from Hugo I've ever read, so I don't know how representative it is of his broader body of work. But if half that stuff is this good, then it's no wonder he's a legend.
(read)
(wikipedia)
November 25, 2009
Mantech: Robot Warriors #4
1985 comic issue. Written by Rich Margopoulos. Illustrated by Dick Ayers and Chic Stone.
Related reviews:
- The first issue of the series.
- The previous issue of the series.
"Invaders from Earth"
"Conspiracy"
"War of the Planets"
"Dregs of Defeat"
Long separated from their homeworld, the Mantech warriors are shocked to discover that humans, now using interplanetary gateways instead of starships, have made their way to the planet of Mekka. Though Solartech and Lasertech don't want to head back home until the threat of Tyranik has been resolved, Aquatech, long dissatisfied with his cybernetic form, is lured from the others by the promise of returning to a cloned body of flesh.
But, alas, things have changed on Earth. Pollution has made concentrated oxygen a rarity and the Orion Corporation, a ruling body these men represent, start setting up a factory to syphon Mekka's rich air supply back to our dying world. And Aquatech? His mechanized body will be dissected by the research department.
I was really blown away by this issue. The story is still cheesy, with all its blurted one-liners fully exclamated, and the art still childish, with figures hitting their wobbliest and eyes pointed in different directions, but it was a damn gripping read. The corporate plunder of a world, the shock that our heroes get at learning what their home has become, and the huge climactic battle with actual fatalities was something I didn't expect from a "Comics Code Approved" Archie title, and it got even better as the heroic Mantech had no other option but to team up with Tyranik and his hideous Terrotechs in order to face down a shared threat before the suffocation of their entire planet.
Sadly, this marks the last issue of the series. Clunky as it is, I was impressed by the thought and creativity Margopoulos slipped into his scripts, even as the art came back rushed and lacking conviction. There's promise of an issue 5 on the letters page, but it never came to be.
For more information about this issue, check out its page at The Comic Book Database. Though out of print, copies aren't very difficult to find at various online comic retailers.
Related reviews:
- The first issue of the series.
- The previous issue of the series.
"Invaders from Earth"
"Conspiracy"
"War of the Planets"
"Dregs of Defeat"
Long separated from their homeworld, the Mantech warriors are shocked to discover that humans, now using interplanetary gateways instead of starships, have made their way to the planet of Mekka. Though Solartech and Lasertech don't want to head back home until the threat of Tyranik has been resolved, Aquatech, long dissatisfied with his cybernetic form, is lured from the others by the promise of returning to a cloned body of flesh.
But, alas, things have changed on Earth. Pollution has made concentrated oxygen a rarity and the Orion Corporation, a ruling body these men represent, start setting up a factory to syphon Mekka's rich air supply back to our dying world. And Aquatech? His mechanized body will be dissected by the research department.
I was really blown away by this issue. The story is still cheesy, with all its blurted one-liners fully exclamated, and the art still childish, with figures hitting their wobbliest and eyes pointed in different directions, but it was a damn gripping read. The corporate plunder of a world, the shock that our heroes get at learning what their home has become, and the huge climactic battle with actual fatalities was something I didn't expect from a "Comics Code Approved" Archie title, and it got even better as the heroic Mantech had no other option but to team up with Tyranik and his hideous Terrotechs in order to face down a shared threat before the suffocation of their entire planet.
Sadly, this marks the last issue of the series. Clunky as it is, I was impressed by the thought and creativity Margopoulos slipped into his scripts, even as the art came back rushed and lacking conviction. There's promise of an issue 5 on the letters page, but it never came to be.
For more information about this issue, check out its page at The Comic Book Database. Though out of print, copies aren't very difficult to find at various online comic retailers.
November 18, 2009
Mantech: Robot Warriors #3
1985 comic issue. Illustrated by Dick Ayers and Chic Stone. Written by Rich Margopoulos.
Related Reviews:
- The first issue of the series.
- The previous issue in the series.
- The next issue in the series..
"The Lost Division of Technoliath"
"Reconnaissance"
"Rescue"
"D-Day"
Instead of a collection of smaller stories, the creative team structures their chapters into a big epic war piece that, while it never quite lives up to the potential it establishes, is still quite rousing.
Back in the days of war between man and machine, Technoliath had entire divisions of robotic warriors hidden away, just waiting to be activated by a master that's now gone. Having uncovered a bunker of one such division, the forces of Tyranik flip the switch and step aside as the soldiers move to the first target on their ancient list: the capital Enclave City.
It's all epic and grand, especially as the forces move in under cloak screens, keeping the city from summoning help until it's almost too late. The problem? Their leader. It would have been great to simply have an overwhelming stream of emotionless robots pouring through the streets, but they're all at the command of a bellowing four-armed juggernaut named Octobot who, for some reason, carries a whip, a sword, and a spiked mace in a world full of laser beams and artillery shells. I guess he's still a bit menacing as he bellows out "Death to the soft skins!" but he's more ridiculous than threatening.
But, hey, this is the era of such comics, where the robots bicker just as much as the humans, every sentence ended in an exclamation point, Solartech randomly flings out that he'd received Nobel Prizes back on Earth, and women named Raveena make our cybernetic heroes regret the loss of certain elements of humanity. I will say, though, that no matter how cheesy it gets, Margopoulos's writing is surprisingly rousing, a memorable sequence being Lasertech going all kamikaze on a chunk of the robot army, trying to take out as many as he can before they cut him down.
The art is still wonky and rushed at times, with moments best described as "scrawl", but there are some great panels in there of the larger forces, and a fantastic page of Solartech roaring with increased fury "Fire! Fire! FIRE!!!" as the forces he's leading blow the holy hell out of the robot army. Seriously, it's a surprising moment from a "Comics Code Approved" Archie title.
All in all, I like it. It's full of flaws and cheese, but pretty much admits so right from the front cover. As long as they make the cheese fun and engaging, I'm in.
For more information about this issue, check out its page at The Comic Book Database. Though out of print, copies aren't very difficult to find at various online comic retailers.
Related Reviews:
- The first issue of the series.
- The previous issue in the series.
- The next issue in the series..
"The Lost Division of Technoliath"
"Reconnaissance"
"Rescue"
"D-Day"
Instead of a collection of smaller stories, the creative team structures their chapters into a big epic war piece that, while it never quite lives up to the potential it establishes, is still quite rousing.
Back in the days of war between man and machine, Technoliath had entire divisions of robotic warriors hidden away, just waiting to be activated by a master that's now gone. Having uncovered a bunker of one such division, the forces of Tyranik flip the switch and step aside as the soldiers move to the first target on their ancient list: the capital Enclave City.
It's all epic and grand, especially as the forces move in under cloak screens, keeping the city from summoning help until it's almost too late. The problem? Their leader. It would have been great to simply have an overwhelming stream of emotionless robots pouring through the streets, but they're all at the command of a bellowing four-armed juggernaut named Octobot who, for some reason, carries a whip, a sword, and a spiked mace in a world full of laser beams and artillery shells. I guess he's still a bit menacing as he bellows out "Death to the soft skins!" but he's more ridiculous than threatening.
But, hey, this is the era of such comics, where the robots bicker just as much as the humans, every sentence ended in an exclamation point, Solartech randomly flings out that he'd received Nobel Prizes back on Earth, and women named Raveena make our cybernetic heroes regret the loss of certain elements of humanity. I will say, though, that no matter how cheesy it gets, Margopoulos's writing is surprisingly rousing, a memorable sequence being Lasertech going all kamikaze on a chunk of the robot army, trying to take out as many as he can before they cut him down.
The art is still wonky and rushed at times, with moments best described as "scrawl", but there are some great panels in there of the larger forces, and a fantastic page of Solartech roaring with increased fury "Fire! Fire! FIRE!!!" as the forces he's leading blow the holy hell out of the robot army. Seriously, it's a surprising moment from a "Comics Code Approved" Archie title.
All in all, I like it. It's full of flaws and cheese, but pretty much admits so right from the front cover. As long as they make the cheese fun and engaging, I'm in.
For more information about this issue, check out its page at The Comic Book Database. Though out of print, copies aren't very difficult to find at various online comic retailers.
November 17, 2009
Samurai 7 #26: The Era's End
2004 episode
directed by Toshifumi Takizawa and Yasuhiro Kuroda
written by Atsuhiro Tomioka
based on the film SEVEN SAMURAI by Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni
(1954 film)
(previous)
I'm not sure what to say here. It was a fantastic finale, everything I could have hoped for, but I don't want to give any descriptions for fear of spoiling the last leg of the ride. So humor me as I use this opportunity to reflect on the series as a whole.
It must have been difficult for this creative team, particularly in the wake of the disappointing KAZE NO YOJIMBO, to take another Kurosawa classic, a film held up around the world as one of the greatest ever made, and say they were going to redo it, with spaceships and robots and a comical little kid sidekick. I can image the scepticism, the challenge thrown up by a broad audience, and I can't say that, in their place, I wouldn't have folded and run away.
But, man, did they know what they were doing. Unlike the earlier anime, which pitched out it's source and started from scratch, this series has, at its heart, an extremely faithful adaptation of SEVEN SAMURAI, which not only captures the scenes and dialogue - almost word-for-word at times - but the deeper layers of complex characters and politics of a classist society that are tricky to pin down. And they didn't stop there, adding and expanding and even having the balls to make a few changes along the way, until they had something that bowed before Kurosawa while still standing firm on its own distinctive feet.
The samurai here are every bit as memorable as those of the original. Shimada Kambei, the leader, who outwardly portrays every shred of honor and intelligence a samurai can hope to achieve, though he's always been on the losing side of war. Shichiroji, his right hand man with an artificial right hand, who shed his sword to work in the inn of his love, but didn't flinch when his old friend called for help. Katayama Gorobei, who used his training to forge a new life as a street performer, using tricks and thrills to keep his warrior blood pumping as he throws himself in the path of danger. Hayashida Heihachi, the good-natured mechanic, experienced in war but not in death, who's easy smile disappears at any reminder of the treason he committed in the past. Kyuzo, the steely corporate assassin, so drawn by Kambei's skill that he'll fight by the older man's side just so he can have a chance to cut the other warrior down.
Katsushiro, the young novice, the heart of the group. Though just a part of the ensemble, this series has partially been about his journey of becoming a samurai. What you have to learn. What you have to give up. What you have to look straight into the face of without screaming. More-so than the others, the lengthened screen time has allowed his character to be explored far more thoroughly than Kurosawa ever could have hoped to achieve in the course of a single movie, and, thus, he probably stands out as the greatest, deepest achievement of the creative team.
And then there's Kikuchiyo, a boisterous thug born of peasants, who lost his family to bandit raids and enhanced his body with mechanics in the hope of one day being recognized as a samurai warrior. For the most part, he's been a useful brute weapon and comical clown on the side of the heroes, with little moments of insight where his bluster uncovers hidden truths, so I was thrilled to see him come face to face with Emperor Ukyo in this ep, revealing a theme I was just starting to pick up on. These two are mirrors, you see, both raised in farming villages only to grow into the very thing the other loathes: a pompous aristocrat and a mechanical warrior. I won't say how it ended, but it was yet another fantastic flourish by the creative team.
There were a few stumbles over the course of the series, a rare episode from a wonky guest-director, or a bit of this world which wasn't explained, but, for the most part, this creative team delivered all around. The direction was largely consistent and commendable, the writing intelligent and engaging, the performances fitting, the designs striking, and the score perfectly subdued.
And then, after straying so far from the source the last few episodes (albeit marvelously so), it all wraps up as we return to the final few minutes of Kurosawa's masterpiece. The words and shots are the almost identical, though the meanings now stand apart. Some are deeper, some are different, some loop back around to something familiar. And all of it is so very much in the spirit of Akira Kurosawa.
(series trailer)
(opening)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(official website)
(wikipedia)
(anime news network)
(internet movie database)
directed by Toshifumi Takizawa and Yasuhiro Kuroda
written by Atsuhiro Tomioka
based on the film SEVEN SAMURAI by Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni
(1954 film)
(previous)
I'm not sure what to say here. It was a fantastic finale, everything I could have hoped for, but I don't want to give any descriptions for fear of spoiling the last leg of the ride. So humor me as I use this opportunity to reflect on the series as a whole.
It must have been difficult for this creative team, particularly in the wake of the disappointing KAZE NO YOJIMBO, to take another Kurosawa classic, a film held up around the world as one of the greatest ever made, and say they were going to redo it, with spaceships and robots and a comical little kid sidekick. I can image the scepticism, the challenge thrown up by a broad audience, and I can't say that, in their place, I wouldn't have folded and run away.
But, man, did they know what they were doing. Unlike the earlier anime, which pitched out it's source and started from scratch, this series has, at its heart, an extremely faithful adaptation of SEVEN SAMURAI, which not only captures the scenes and dialogue - almost word-for-word at times - but the deeper layers of complex characters and politics of a classist society that are tricky to pin down. And they didn't stop there, adding and expanding and even having the balls to make a few changes along the way, until they had something that bowed before Kurosawa while still standing firm on its own distinctive feet.
The samurai here are every bit as memorable as those of the original. Shimada Kambei, the leader, who outwardly portrays every shred of honor and intelligence a samurai can hope to achieve, though he's always been on the losing side of war. Shichiroji, his right hand man with an artificial right hand, who shed his sword to work in the inn of his love, but didn't flinch when his old friend called for help. Katayama Gorobei, who used his training to forge a new life as a street performer, using tricks and thrills to keep his warrior blood pumping as he throws himself in the path of danger. Hayashida Heihachi, the good-natured mechanic, experienced in war but not in death, who's easy smile disappears at any reminder of the treason he committed in the past. Kyuzo, the steely corporate assassin, so drawn by Kambei's skill that he'll fight by the older man's side just so he can have a chance to cut the other warrior down.
Katsushiro, the young novice, the heart of the group. Though just a part of the ensemble, this series has partially been about his journey of becoming a samurai. What you have to learn. What you have to give up. What you have to look straight into the face of without screaming. More-so than the others, the lengthened screen time has allowed his character to be explored far more thoroughly than Kurosawa ever could have hoped to achieve in the course of a single movie, and, thus, he probably stands out as the greatest, deepest achievement of the creative team.
And then there's Kikuchiyo, a boisterous thug born of peasants, who lost his family to bandit raids and enhanced his body with mechanics in the hope of one day being recognized as a samurai warrior. For the most part, he's been a useful brute weapon and comical clown on the side of the heroes, with little moments of insight where his bluster uncovers hidden truths, so I was thrilled to see him come face to face with Emperor Ukyo in this ep, revealing a theme I was just starting to pick up on. These two are mirrors, you see, both raised in farming villages only to grow into the very thing the other loathes: a pompous aristocrat and a mechanical warrior. I won't say how it ended, but it was yet another fantastic flourish by the creative team.
There were a few stumbles over the course of the series, a rare episode from a wonky guest-director, or a bit of this world which wasn't explained, but, for the most part, this creative team delivered all around. The direction was largely consistent and commendable, the writing intelligent and engaging, the performances fitting, the designs striking, and the score perfectly subdued.
And then, after straying so far from the source the last few episodes (albeit marvelously so), it all wraps up as we return to the final few minutes of Kurosawa's masterpiece. The words and shots are the almost identical, though the meanings now stand apart. Some are deeper, some are different, some loop back around to something familiar. And all of it is so very much in the spirit of Akira Kurosawa.
(series trailer)
(opening)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(official website)
(wikipedia)
(anime news network)
(internet movie database)
Samurai 7 #25: The Last Battle
2004 episode
directed by Toshifumi Takizawa and Toru Yoshida
written by Atsuhiro Tomioka
based on the film SEVEN SAMURAI by Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni
(1954 film)
(previous)
(next)
Last battle, indeed. Everything comes to a head as Ukyo's mechanical swarm cuts loose, the villagers open up with their stolen guns, and the samurai soar into the fray. I won't go into too much detail, except to say that I was surprised at how quick things went. That's not a complaint, not at all, because the way the samurai pull together a strategy on the fly is believable, as is Ukyo realizing that his army of lobotomized machines just doesn't quite cut it without the minds of former samurai driving their gigantic bodies.
It's all marvelously executed with each character getting their chance to shine. As you knew would happen, we do lose some heroes during this fray, but I won't spoil who or how, only to say one is heroic and brave, and the other is sudden and shocking, bringing the ongoing arc of his killer full circle.
Elsewhere, I haven't taken the time till now to mention Tessai, the steely-eyed bodyguard of Emperor Ukyo, largely because he's ridden along with the plot instead of driving it. Here, though, we see that all his little moments of tense cautioning and strategy are truly the signs of a significant warrior as he finally gets to cut loose against our heroes, all while still puffing away at his little Popeye pipe.
But then there's the guns. We know they are a part of this society but have largely only seen brief use of huge cannons that most mere mortals can't even lift. That concept fits nicely into a world where swordplay is still dominant, but things have changed. Now we see soldiers laden with small machine guns, with no explanation for where they suddenly came from or why they hadn't been used before. It's a confusing slip on the part of the creative team, especially since one is featured in a rather key dramatic moment.
But, while a head-scratcher, it isn't enough to kill the first half of what promises to be a fantastic finale.
(series trailer)
(opening)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(official website)
(wikipedia)
(anime news network)
(internet movie database)
directed by Toshifumi Takizawa and Toru Yoshida
written by Atsuhiro Tomioka
based on the film SEVEN SAMURAI by Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni
(1954 film)
(previous)
(next)
Last battle, indeed. Everything comes to a head as Ukyo's mechanical swarm cuts loose, the villagers open up with their stolen guns, and the samurai soar into the fray. I won't go into too much detail, except to say that I was surprised at how quick things went. That's not a complaint, not at all, because the way the samurai pull together a strategy on the fly is believable, as is Ukyo realizing that his army of lobotomized machines just doesn't quite cut it without the minds of former samurai driving their gigantic bodies.
It's all marvelously executed with each character getting their chance to shine. As you knew would happen, we do lose some heroes during this fray, but I won't spoil who or how, only to say one is heroic and brave, and the other is sudden and shocking, bringing the ongoing arc of his killer full circle.
Elsewhere, I haven't taken the time till now to mention Tessai, the steely-eyed bodyguard of Emperor Ukyo, largely because he's ridden along with the plot instead of driving it. Here, though, we see that all his little moments of tense cautioning and strategy are truly the signs of a significant warrior as he finally gets to cut loose against our heroes, all while still puffing away at his little Popeye pipe.
But then there's the guns. We know they are a part of this society but have largely only seen brief use of huge cannons that most mere mortals can't even lift. That concept fits nicely into a world where swordplay is still dominant, but things have changed. Now we see soldiers laden with small machine guns, with no explanation for where they suddenly came from or why they hadn't been used before. It's a confusing slip on the part of the creative team, especially since one is featured in a rather key dramatic moment.
But, while a head-scratcher, it isn't enough to kill the first half of what promises to be a fantastic finale.
(series trailer)
(opening)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(official website)
(wikipedia)
(anime news network)
(internet movie database)
Samurai 7 #24: The Oaths
2004 episode
directed by Toshifumi Takizawa and Futoshi Higashide
written by Atsuhiro Tomioka
based on the film SEVEN SAMURAI by Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni
(1954 film)
(previous)
(next)
On the flying citadel, Emperor Ukyo inspects his newly lobotomized mechanical bandits. They're wired to obey his every command, which he tests by having them goof off in battle.
In the village of Kanna, Katsushiro and the militarized farmers have built an impressive fortification of arms recovered from their previous battle with the bandits, and wonder if it will be enough.
In the desert wastes, the other five heroic samurai pass through villages where the people praise their benevolent new dictator, until coming across the remains of betrayed bandits that Ukyo himself blew out of the sky. Digging out one of those multi-storey, jet-propelled swords, they hotwire it as a speedy vehicle.
On a carriage circling around the pending battle, Rikichi, Sanae, and Kirara wait for the final outcome, while little Komachi tearfully wonders if the boisterous Kikuchiyo will fulfill his oath to to be her husband when she grows up.
And then the battle begins.
I've openly wondered in the past how it is that the samurai are able to enact the superhuman feats they do, soaring through the air and slicing down huge cyborgs or even entire starships. Though not explained, there's a scene here that suggests it's because the blades of their katanas act as a tuning fork of sorts, gathering and amplifying their energy once they've been properly trained. I really would like an explanation just to clear up the specifics, but they've been pretty consistent till now, and I love the moment where Katsushiro deflects a massive laser beam as a demonstration that he's finally become one with his blade.
We only get a hint of the battle to come, though, and I can't wait to see where things go from here. Ukyo knows he'll win. The samurai know they'll die. What could possibly go wrong?
(series trailer)
(opening)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(official website)
(wikipedia)
(anime news network)
(internet movie database)
directed by Toshifumi Takizawa and Futoshi Higashide
written by Atsuhiro Tomioka
based on the film SEVEN SAMURAI by Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni
(1954 film)
(previous)
(next)
On the flying citadel, Emperor Ukyo inspects his newly lobotomized mechanical bandits. They're wired to obey his every command, which he tests by having them goof off in battle.
In the village of Kanna, Katsushiro and the militarized farmers have built an impressive fortification of arms recovered from their previous battle with the bandits, and wonder if it will be enough.
In the desert wastes, the other five heroic samurai pass through villages where the people praise their benevolent new dictator, until coming across the remains of betrayed bandits that Ukyo himself blew out of the sky. Digging out one of those multi-storey, jet-propelled swords, they hotwire it as a speedy vehicle.
On a carriage circling around the pending battle, Rikichi, Sanae, and Kirara wait for the final outcome, while little Komachi tearfully wonders if the boisterous Kikuchiyo will fulfill his oath to to be her husband when she grows up.
And then the battle begins.
I've openly wondered in the past how it is that the samurai are able to enact the superhuman feats they do, soaring through the air and slicing down huge cyborgs or even entire starships. Though not explained, there's a scene here that suggests it's because the blades of their katanas act as a tuning fork of sorts, gathering and amplifying their energy once they've been properly trained. I really would like an explanation just to clear up the specifics, but they've been pretty consistent till now, and I love the moment where Katsushiro deflects a massive laser beam as a demonstration that he's finally become one with his blade.
We only get a hint of the battle to come, though, and I can't wait to see where things go from here. Ukyo knows he'll win. The samurai know they'll die. What could possibly go wrong?
(series trailer)
(opening)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(official website)
(wikipedia)
(anime news network)
(internet movie database)
Samurai 7 #23: The Lies
2004 episode
directed by Toshifumi Takizawa and Hiroyuki Okuno
written by Atsuhiro Tomioka
based on the film SEVEN SAMURAI by Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni
(1954 film)
(previous)
(next)
This seems to be the last of the transitional episodes, finally locking all our characters in place for what will be one hell of a finale. Emperor Ukyo has the flying Capital aimed at the farming village of Kanna, wishing to celebrate its victory over the bandits by burning it to ashes, and our heroic samurai have realized that the merchants can no longer be in control and vow to take the Capital down. Things so easily could have been contrived here, but the twist of bringing the struggle right back to the film's core concept of defending a lone village from attackers is marvelously well played and feels like a true extension of the original story.
The thread of Rikichi and his estranged wife continues to play out nicely, with him trying to convince himself that her "betrayal" is due to the understandable lure of fine clothing and food, but it's Mizuki, a young hand-maiden who was also kidnapped by the empire, that sets him straight, going off on a gripping little speech about how the girls were merely being used as farms for the emperor's seed. Twisted food for thought, but presented without a flinch.
And then there's Katsushiro, who continues his growth by returning to Kanna and starting a single-handed line of defense (amazing action scene) against forces that are likely to quickly overwhelm him if the others don't get there soon. A little tidbit about his character, that I've noticed but have yet to comment on, is how, through his costume and demeanor, he seems to employ many elements of Kyuzo, the lone swordsman, from the original film, even more-so than that character's namesake here. I'm wondering if this was intentional on the part of the creative team, merging the fledgling student with the stoic master so as to explore the journey taken from one to the other. If it's intentional, then bravo to them.
One problem, if I may, comes just after Ukyo is confronted by dying bandits, huge mechanical monoliths that he just betrayed. It's a great scene, topped by a classic bit with the Capital's main cannon, but then comes the notion that they can strip the "souls" out of the remaining bandits and make them mindless robotic warriors fully under the Emperor's control. I don't like this. Not only is it a plot device frequently explored, but it will rob the bandits of their last remaining dregs of personality, and characters without personality is so very against what Kurosawa was about.
But I'll wait and see how that plays out. It's a fantastic episode filled with great little moments (a game of croquet, an assassin slowly rotating his mechanical hand as he speaks, Kikuchiyo and Komachi playfully bounding from side to side on a barge as our remaining heroes plot in the foreground), and there's a particularly striking bit in the first half. Just after our heroes agree to take down the Capital, they pause and we take in a shot of our supporting cast, seeing these familiar faces as if for the last time. It's a perfect, honest moment of soldiers setting off to a battle they may not win.
(series trailer)
(opening)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(official website)
(wikipedia)
(anime news network)
(internet movie database)
directed by Toshifumi Takizawa and Hiroyuki Okuno
written by Atsuhiro Tomioka
based on the film SEVEN SAMURAI by Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni
(1954 film)
(previous)
(next)
This seems to be the last of the transitional episodes, finally locking all our characters in place for what will be one hell of a finale. Emperor Ukyo has the flying Capital aimed at the farming village of Kanna, wishing to celebrate its victory over the bandits by burning it to ashes, and our heroic samurai have realized that the merchants can no longer be in control and vow to take the Capital down. Things so easily could have been contrived here, but the twist of bringing the struggle right back to the film's core concept of defending a lone village from attackers is marvelously well played and feels like a true extension of the original story.
The thread of Rikichi and his estranged wife continues to play out nicely, with him trying to convince himself that her "betrayal" is due to the understandable lure of fine clothing and food, but it's Mizuki, a young hand-maiden who was also kidnapped by the empire, that sets him straight, going off on a gripping little speech about how the girls were merely being used as farms for the emperor's seed. Twisted food for thought, but presented without a flinch.
And then there's Katsushiro, who continues his growth by returning to Kanna and starting a single-handed line of defense (amazing action scene) against forces that are likely to quickly overwhelm him if the others don't get there soon. A little tidbit about his character, that I've noticed but have yet to comment on, is how, through his costume and demeanor, he seems to employ many elements of Kyuzo, the lone swordsman, from the original film, even more-so than that character's namesake here. I'm wondering if this was intentional on the part of the creative team, merging the fledgling student with the stoic master so as to explore the journey taken from one to the other. If it's intentional, then bravo to them.
One problem, if I may, comes just after Ukyo is confronted by dying bandits, huge mechanical monoliths that he just betrayed. It's a great scene, topped by a classic bit with the Capital's main cannon, but then comes the notion that they can strip the "souls" out of the remaining bandits and make them mindless robotic warriors fully under the Emperor's control. I don't like this. Not only is it a plot device frequently explored, but it will rob the bandits of their last remaining dregs of personality, and characters without personality is so very against what Kurosawa was about.
But I'll wait and see how that plays out. It's a fantastic episode filled with great little moments (a game of croquet, an assassin slowly rotating his mechanical hand as he speaks, Kikuchiyo and Komachi playfully bounding from side to side on a barge as our remaining heroes plot in the foreground), and there's a particularly striking bit in the first half. Just after our heroes agree to take down the Capital, they pause and we take in a shot of our supporting cast, seeing these familiar faces as if for the last time. It's a perfect, honest moment of soldiers setting off to a battle they may not win.
(series trailer)
(opening)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(official website)
(wikipedia)
(anime news network)
(internet movie database)
November 12, 2009
Samurai 7 #22: The Divide
2004 episode
directed by Toshifumi Takizawa and Toshi Saga
written by Atsuhiro Tomioka
based on the film SEVEN SAMURAI by Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni
(1954 film)
(previous)
(next)
In a slight nod to Kurosawa's YOJIMBO, it seems Ukyo's strategy as the new emperor is to play both sides of the coin for his own mutual benefit. To the bandits he gives orders to raid the towns out of season, plucking up any stray bales of rice the farmers have hid away. To the farmers he sends militias of hired samurai to follow the growing legend of our heroes and cut the bandits down. Thus, he creates a conflict that weeds out potential rivals while the farmers just hand over the rice in gratitude. It's a nice, Kurosawa-esque way to carry on the plot, showing once again that Ukyo is not to be underestimated, and I especially like the added touch of the villagers seeing right through the plan, but going along because it's no worse for them than it's ever been in the past.
And another ploy is that he holds our lead Samurai and the village of Kanna up as heroic icons, while still quietly trying to wipe them off the map. After all, once peasants start fighting for themselves, who knows where they'll stop. It's when a group of assassins fall before our heroes that Kambei, Katsushiro, and Kikuchiyo finally hook up with Kyuzo again, with Shichiroji and Heihachi coming across them soon afterwards. Our remaining heroes are thus reunited, realizing that the job they signed up for is still escalating in ways that need to be dealt with. But, alas, there's still tension in the ranks.
Young Katsushiro is starting to see the chinks in Kambei's armor, certain restraints and hesitations that may be the key to the older samurai's frequent losses of the past. I was a little miffed at their division the last episode, but it's interesting how they're spinning it in a way that finally adds a few shades of grey to Kambei's character. As for Katsushiro, I'm impressed to see how much he's grown, but he breaks away from the team in what still looks to be the last dregs of youthful impulsiveness, so it'll be interesting to see where he goes from here. My only problem is that it looks like everybody else (sans Kikuchiyo) is taking Kambei's side, which feels a tad too uniform.
Otherwise, though, it's still pretty damn great, with some nice spurts of action, continued development of Ukyo's fascinating plot, Rikkichi finally confronting his estranged wife (which they've only just begun, so I'll detail it later), and even the portly Aymaro, former magistrate of the city and adoptive father to Ukyo, hanging around as an odd little tag-along for our team.
(series trailer)
(opening)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(official website)
(wikipedia)
(anime news network)
(internet movie database)
directed by Toshifumi Takizawa and Toshi Saga
written by Atsuhiro Tomioka
based on the film SEVEN SAMURAI by Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni
(1954 film)
(previous)
(next)
In a slight nod to Kurosawa's YOJIMBO, it seems Ukyo's strategy as the new emperor is to play both sides of the coin for his own mutual benefit. To the bandits he gives orders to raid the towns out of season, plucking up any stray bales of rice the farmers have hid away. To the farmers he sends militias of hired samurai to follow the growing legend of our heroes and cut the bandits down. Thus, he creates a conflict that weeds out potential rivals while the farmers just hand over the rice in gratitude. It's a nice, Kurosawa-esque way to carry on the plot, showing once again that Ukyo is not to be underestimated, and I especially like the added touch of the villagers seeing right through the plan, but going along because it's no worse for them than it's ever been in the past.
And another ploy is that he holds our lead Samurai and the village of Kanna up as heroic icons, while still quietly trying to wipe them off the map. After all, once peasants start fighting for themselves, who knows where they'll stop. It's when a group of assassins fall before our heroes that Kambei, Katsushiro, and Kikuchiyo finally hook up with Kyuzo again, with Shichiroji and Heihachi coming across them soon afterwards. Our remaining heroes are thus reunited, realizing that the job they signed up for is still escalating in ways that need to be dealt with. But, alas, there's still tension in the ranks.
Young Katsushiro is starting to see the chinks in Kambei's armor, certain restraints and hesitations that may be the key to the older samurai's frequent losses of the past. I was a little miffed at their division the last episode, but it's interesting how they're spinning it in a way that finally adds a few shades of grey to Kambei's character. As for Katsushiro, I'm impressed to see how much he's grown, but he breaks away from the team in what still looks to be the last dregs of youthful impulsiveness, so it'll be interesting to see where he goes from here. My only problem is that it looks like everybody else (sans Kikuchiyo) is taking Kambei's side, which feels a tad too uniform.
Otherwise, though, it's still pretty damn great, with some nice spurts of action, continued development of Ukyo's fascinating plot, Rikkichi finally confronting his estranged wife (which they've only just begun, so I'll detail it later), and even the portly Aymaro, former magistrate of the city and adoptive father to Ukyo, hanging around as an odd little tag-along for our team.
(series trailer)
(opening)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(purchase)
(official website)
(wikipedia)
(anime news network)
(internet movie database)
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