Shogun’s Samurai — Shogun’s Samurai
Shogun’s Samurai is an epic addition to Eureka’s Master of Cinema series. Released in 1978, director and co-writer Kinji Fukasaku’s chanbara epic is packed with clashing samurai and rōnin swords and deadly intrigue that might well leave viewers feeling they’ve watched a dynasty rise and fall over its 130-minute runtime.
Shogun’s Samurai instantly sets out its stall with the death of Shogun Hidetada Tokugawa in 1624 (during the Edo period). Two sons stand to inherit the title, as the opening narration tells us, outlining their virtues, deficits, and alliances among the key players that sit behind behind them, and leaving no doubt that the fragile peace of Osaka risks descending into civil war.
With the two sons, Tadanaga (Teruhiko Saigo) and Iemitsu (Matsukata), in dispute, it’s the machinations of samurai Munenori Yagyu (Kinnosuke Yorozuya), and the use of his children Jubei (Sonny Chiba), Munefuyu (Kentaro Kudo) and Akane (Etsuko Shihomi) that lead to tragedy and a notable warning that it would repeat.
From the start, Kinji Fukasaku’s chanbara film is a feast for the eyes. After setting out the players, a storm of pathetic fallacy accompanies the plunder of the shogun’s tomb and an attempt to steal the leader’s stomach. The attempt is interrupted, but still appears to confirm suspicions of poisoning, setting off a bloody chain of events—a succession of grudges, scheming, betrayal, and loyalty that has everything followers of samurai films will appreciate and more.
Widescreen fights fill the screen with swords as samurai and hordes of rōnin clash. During a cunning deception, a host of masterless samurai are slain by rows of riflemen. Ninjas fall from trees, letting loose flying stars before they are slashed or decapitated. And at key moments, Fukasaku saves up something very special: the meeting of samurai rivals that resolves in exquisitely controlled, metaphor-packed stand-offs, where short, sharp, and precise moments leave telltale, fatal trickles of blood.
The consequence of the intricate machinations that move pieces around the landscape and result in repeated attacks on either side, allied clans, or nobles eager to wrest control back from the samurai, could be exhaustion for casual viewers. Shogun’s Samurai packs a lot into just over two hours, with a large cast and considerable attention required to keep track of the involved plotting and the characters still in play.
The alternative is to let the broad sweeps wash over you, as events resolve in a tragedy that sweeps up its main players with Shakespearean relish. Aside from the two brothers, it’s worth just keeping tabs on the ruthless and Machiavellian Yagyu as he sacrifices everything to ensure victory. As Chiba’s by-now one-eyed Jubei tells him at the end, “Father, does this mean so much to you?”
Yagyu, the real-life martial artist, swordsman and writer, is played authoritatively by Yorozuya, as might be expected, given this is one of multiple times the actor played him on screen.
It’s no surprise that the sweeping yet condensed dynastic struggle was ready-made for a longer format and was soon adapted into a 39-episode TV series that bears the subtitle of this release: The Yagyu Conspiracy (1978–1979). Given the solid film, it may be a relief that this Blu-ray debut for Shogun’s Samurai is a bit light on special features. Joining some theatrical trailers is a sole new video essay from Japanese cinema expert Joe Hickinbottom, placing the film in the director’s period oeuvre: Echoes of the Present: Kinji Fukasaku's Jidaigeki Cinema.