Samurai Films

Rashomon - Criterion Collection

This 1950 film by Akira Kurosawa is more than a classic: it's a cinematic archetype that has served as a template for many a film since. (Its most direct influence was on a Western remake, The Outrage, starring Paul Newman and directed by Martin Ritt.) In essence, the facts surrounding a rape and murder are told from four different and contradictory points of view, suggesting the nature of truth is something less than absolute. The cast, headed by Kurosawa's favorite actor, Toshiro Mifune, is superb. --Tom Keogh

Brimming with action while incisively examining the nature of truth, Rashomon is perhaps the finest film ever to investigate the philosophy of justice. Through an ingenious use of camera and flashbacks, Kurosawa reveals the complexities of human nature as four people recount different versions of the story of a man's murder and the rape of his wife. Toshiro Mifune gives another commanding performance in the eloquent masterwork that revolutionized film language and introduced Japanese cinema to the world.

The Hidden Fortress - Criterion Collection

In one of the many classic collaborations between director Akira Kurosawa and his leading man Toshirô Mifune, this 1958 film tells the story of a warrior and a princess trying against all odds to return to their homeland with their fortune. Along the way, they are simultaneously assisted and thwarted by two itinerant and not too bright farmers with their own designs on the treasure, giving the story a subtle comic bent. The Hidden Fortress combines an epic tale of struggle and honor with modern comic sensibilities, creating a masterful addition to world cinema. --Robert Lane

A general and a princess must dodge enemy clans while smuggling the royal treasure out of hostile territory with two bumbling, conniving peasants at their sides; it's a spirited adventure that only Akira Kurosawa could create. Acknowledged as a primary influence on George Lucas' Star Wars, The Hidden Fortress delivers Kurosawa's inimitably deft blend of wry humor, breathtaking action and humanist compassion on an epic scale. The Criterion Collection is proud to present this landmark motion picture in a stunning, newly-restored Tohoscope edition.

Throne of Blood - Criterion Collection

A champion of illumination and experimental shading, Kurosawa brings his unerring eye for indelible images to Shakespeare in this 1957 adaptation of Macbeth. By changing the locale from Birnam Wood to 16th-century Japan, Kurosawa makes an oddball argument for the trans-historicity of Shakespeare's narrative; and indeed, stripped to the bare mechanics of the plot, the tale of cutthroat ambition rewarded (and thwarted) feels infinitely adaptable. What's lost in the translation, of course, is the force and beauty of the language--much of the script of Throne of Blood is maddeningly repetitive or superfluous--but striking visual images (including the surreal Cobweb Forest and some extremely artful gore) replace the sublime poetry. Toshiro Mifune is theatrically intense as Washizu, the samurai fated to betray his friend and master in exchange for the prestige of nobility; he portrays the ill-fated warrior with a passion bordering on violence, and a barely concealed conviviality. Somewhat less successful is Isuzu Yamada as Washizu's scheming wife; her poise and creepy impassivity, chilling at first, soon grows tedious. Kurosawa himself is the star of the show, though, and his masterful use of black-and-white contrast-- not to mention his steady, dramatic hand with a battle scene--keeps the proceedings thrilling. A must-see for fans of Japanese cinema, as well as all you devotees of samurai weapons and armor. --Miles Bethany

One of the most celebrated screen adaptations of Shakespeare into film, Akira Kurosawa's Throne of Blood re-imagines Macbeth in feudal Japan. Starring Kurosawa's longtime collaborator Toshiro Mifune and the legendary Isuzu Yamada as his ruthless wife, the film tells of a valiant warrior's savage rise to power and his ignominious fall. With Throne of Blood, Kurosawa fuses one of Shakespeare's greatest tragedies with the formal elements of Japanese Noh theater to make a Macbeth that is all his own—a classic tale of ambition and duplicity set against a ghostly landscape of fog and inescapable doom.

Kagemusha - Criterion Collection

The 1970s were difficult years for the great Japanese director Akira Kurosawa. Following the box-office failure of his 1970 film Dodes'ka-den and an unsuccessful suicide attempt, Kurosawa was unable to find financial backing in Japan, and he made his acclaimed 1975 film Dersu Uzala in Siberia with Russian financing. With only partial Japanese backing for his epic project Kagemusha, the 70-year-old master then found American support from George Lucas and Francis Ford Coppola, who served as coexecutive producers (through 20th Century Fox) for this magnificent 1980 production--to that date the most expensive film in Japanese history. Set in the late 16th century, Kagemusha centers on the Takeda clan, one of three warlord clans battling for control of Japan at the end of the feudal period. When Lord Shingen (Tatsuya Nakadai), head of the Takeda clan, is mortally wounded in battle and near death, he orders that his death be kept secret and that his "kagemusha"--or "shadow warrior"--take his place for a period of three years to prevent clan disruption and enemy takeover. The identical double is a petty thief (also played by Nakadai) spared from execution due to his uncanny resemblance to Lord Shingen--but his true identity cannot prevent the tides of fate from rising over the Takeda clan in a climactic scene of battlefield devastation. Through stunning visuals and meticulous attention to every physical and stylistic detail, Kurosawa made a film that restored his status as Japan's greatest filmmaker, and the success of Kagemusha enabled the director to make his 1985 masterpiece, Ran. --Jeff Shannon

In his late color masterpiece Kagemusha (The Shadow Warrior) director Akira Kurosawa returned to the samurai film and to a primary theme of his celebrated career—the play between illusion and reality. Sumptuously reconstructing the splendor of feudal Japan and pageantry of war, Kurosawa creates a soaring historical epic that is also a somber meditation on the nature of power. The Criterion Collection is proud to present Kagemusha for the first time in its full-length version.

Harakiri - Criterion Collection

Dramatically compelling and emotionally intense, Harakiri is a certified classic of Japanese film, and a riveting study of samurai codes of honor. Unlike Kurosawa's rousing samurai epics, this is an uncompromisingly tragic tale, exposing the hypocrisy of 17th-century Japanese society with its story of a family destroyed by the cruelty of feudalism toward warriors in peacetime. The film is truly Shakespearean in its emotional scope, embodied by the unforgettable performance of Tatsuya Nakadai (star of Kurosawa's Ran) as an elder warrior seeking revenge for the unnecessary seppuku (ritual suicide) of his beloved son-in-law. Director Masaki Kobayashi begins at story's end, then recounts the narrative (adapted from a novel by Yasuhiko Takiguchi) as told by Nakadai's character. The effect is almost unbearably suspenseful, leading to an explosive climax of supreme defiance and samurai swordplay, erupting from a battle of wills, called bluffs, and hotly defended honor. For connoisseurs of samurai action, Harakiri is not to be missed. --Jeff Shannon

Following the collapse of his clan, unemployed samurai Hanshiro Tsugumo (Tatsuya Nakadai) arrives at the manor of Lord Iyi, begging to commit ritual suicide on his property. Iyi's clans men, believing the desperate ronin is merely angling for charity, try to force him to eviscerate himself - but they have underestimated his honor and his past. Winner of the 1963 Cannes Film Festival's Special Jury Prize, Masaki Kobayashi's Harakiri is a scathing denouncement of feudal authority and hypocrisy.

Ran (Masterworks Edition)

As critic Roger Ebert observed in his original review of Ran, this epic tragedy might have been attempted by a younger director, but only the Japanese master Akira Kurosawa, who made the film at age 75, could bring the requisite experience and maturity to this stunning interpretation of Shakespeare's King Lear. It's a film for the ages--one of the few genuine screen masterpieces--and arguably serves as an artistic summation of the great director's career. In this version of the Shakespeare tragedy, the king is a 16th-century warlord (Tatsuya Nakadai as Lord Hidetora) who decides to retire and divide his kingdom evenly among his three sons. When one son defiantly objects out of loyalty to his father and warns of inevitable sibling rivalry, he is banished and the kingdom is awarded to his compliant siblings. The loyal son's fears are valid: a duplicitous power struggle ensues and the aging warlord witnesses a maelstrom of horrifying death and destruction. Although the film is slow to establish its story, it's clear that Kurosawa, who planned and painstakingly designed the production for 10 years before filming began, was charting a meticulous and tightly formalized dramatic strategy. As familial tensions rise and betrayal sends Lord Hidetora into the throes of escalating madness, Ran (the title is the Japanese character for "chaos" or "rebellion") reaches a fever pitch through epic battles and a fortress assault that is simply one of the most amazing sequences on film. --Jeff Shannon

The Sword of Doom - Criterion Collection

Boasting some of the most impressive swordplay in the history of samurai epics, Sword of Doom is a visceral masterpiece of violent style and powerful substance. Illustrating the timeless adage that "an evil soul wields an evil sword," this highly stylized classic is driven by the fierce and fearsome performance of Tatsuya Nakadai as Ryunosuke, a sociopathic samurai whose soul--and sword--are vicious instruments of evil. Having mastered a highly unconventional style of fencing, Ryunosuke welcomes an exhibition match at a fencing school run by master swordsman Shimada (Toshirô Mifune, in a small but pivotal role), where he kills his opponent after promising not to. Flagrantly violating all codes of honor, Ryunosuke eventually finds himself challenged from all sides; even his own henchmen rally against him, and director Kihachi Okamoto stages confrontations that are as beautiful as they are graphically violent. As Ryunosuke descends into pure, bloodthirsty insanity, Sword of Doom ends with a freeze-frame that's unforgettably intense. --Jeff Shannon

Wandering samurai Ryunosuke lives his life in a maelstrom of violence. A gifted swordsman—plying his trade during the turbulent final days of Shogunate rule—he kills without remorse, without mercy.

Ronin Gai

A powerful remake of a popular jidai geki (period drama) that was first filmed in 1928, Ronin Gai also marks the final appearance of Shintaro Katsu, the Japanese actor best known for his title role in the long-lasting Zatoichi film series. Also known as Street of the Masterless Samurai, this intense chambera (swordplay) drama is set on the outskirts of Edo in the 1830s, where aimless Ronin waste what's left of their obsolete careers, drinking sake in a shabby restaurant where prostitutes provide cheap sex while hoping to marry out of their miserable fate. When a rogue band of the local shogun's retainers start slashing the prostitutes in a ruthless, self-righteous murder spree, the drunken samurai must sober up and retaliate, leading to a climactic showdown in which the traitorous bodyguard named Bull (played by Katso) gets a chance to redeem himself in true samurai fashion. Produced to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the death of Japanese film pioneer Shozo Makino, Ronin Gai is primarily a tale of downtrodden people finding new purpose and hope amidst severe disadvantage, but director Kazuo Kuroki is equally adept with nihilist attitude and swift, bloody action sequences that are unflinchingly violent and not for the faint of heart. (Future cult director Takashi Miike served as assistant director here; he obviously learned from the experience.) Parallels to Clint Eastwood's Unforgiven are readily apparent, but Ronin Gai came first, and it's a must-see for fans of the samurai genre. --Jeff Shannon

Kazuo Kuroki's international award-winning period drama was produced in commemoration of the 60th anniversary of the death of Shozo Makino, "the father of Japanese films." Set in the 1830s near the end of the age of the samurai, Ronin Gai is populated by an ensemble of colorful characters, social outcasts who patronize a restaurant and brothel on the outskirts of Edo. Among them are prostitutes and masterless samurai reduced to drunkenness and debauchery. The disgraced and disillusioned former warriors get a chance at redemption when renegade samurai invade the area to murder the prostitutes.

Zatoichi - Darkness Is His Ally

As the 26th installment in a popular film series that lasted 27 years, Zatoichi is essentially a "greatest hits" compendium of all the films that preceded it. That makes it essential viewing for Zatoichi fans and anyone interested in the voluminous "source code" for Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill. Known in Japan as Zatoichi 26 or Zatoichi '89, this lavish production was the last to star Shintaro Katsu, who originated the title role of "the Blind Swordsman" in 1962's The Tale of Zatoichi and served triple-duty as writer and director of this stylishly violent latter-day adventure. Now much older and still a wandering loner, the blind, peace-loving masseur Ichi (or, in Japanese, Zato Ichi) seeks a quiet life among the gentle people of Edo Period villages, but when he's caught in a power struggle between rival Yakuza clans, his reputation as a deadly defender of the innocent precedes him, and he's forced to fend for himself in a series of sword-wielding showdowns. Between geysers of spurting crimson, this gorgeous Zatoichi film delivers good humor and mild sentiment, although series devotees were justifiably disappointed when the familiar plot failed to advance Zatoichi's legend in a middle-aged context. Still, the action sequences are frequent and fun, and despite controversy surrounding an accidental death during the climactic battle (for which Katsu's son, playing a villain, was ultimately found not guilty), this was a fitting farewell to Katsu's involvement in the franchise, which was revived once again with the successful release of Takeshi "Beat" Kitano's Zatoichi in 2003. --Jeff Shannon

Akira Kurosawa - 4 Samurai Classics (Seven Samurai / The Hidden Fortress / Yojimbo / Sanjuro) - Criterion Collection

Leading off the set of four Akira Kurosawa classics is Seven Samurai (1954), unanimously hailed as one of the greatest masterpieces in the history of the motion picture. It was the inspiration for countless films modeled after its basic premise, but has never been surpassed in terms of sheer power of emotion, kinetic energy, and dynamic character development. The story is set in the 1600s, when the residents of a small Japanese village seek protection against repeated attacks by a band of marauding thieves and hire seven unemployed "ronin" (masterless samurai), including a boastful swordsman (Toshiro Mifune), who is actually a farmer's son desperately seeking glory and acceptance. The climactic battle remains one of the most breathtaking sequences ever filmed and one of Kurosawa's crowning cinematic achievements.

In another of the many Kurosawa-Mifune collaborations, The Hidden Fortress (1958) tells the story of a warrior and a princess trying against all odds to return to their homeland with their fortune. Along the way, they are simultaneously assisted and thwarted by two itinerant and not-too-bright farmers with their own designs on the treasure. Frequently cited for its thematic influences on Star Wars, The Hidden Fortress combines an epic tale of struggle and honor with modern comic sensibilities.

The partly comic Yojimbo (1961) was inspired by the American Western genre. Mifune plays a drifting samurai for hire who plays both ends against the middle with two warring factions, surviving on his wits and his ability to outrun his own bad luck. Yojimbo is striking for its unorthodox treatment of violence and morality, reserving judgment on the actions of its main character and instead presenting an entertaining tale with humor and much visual excitement. One of the inspirations for the spaghetti Westerns of director Sergio Leone and the 1996 Bruce Willis vehicle Last Man Standing, this film offers insight into a director who influenced American films even as he was influenced by them. The 1963 sequel, Sanjuro, is more lighthearted and less cynical, a rousing adventure with Mifune becoming an unlikely big brother to a troupe of nine naive samurai. It isn't the subtlest of Kurosawa's films, but it's one of his most entertaining.