Book Review: A Brief History of the Samurai (2010) by Jonathan Clements

To be honest, the real reason I read this book was to satisfy my curiosity about the historical reality of samurai films. Are they as mythical and over-the-top as, say, American westerns? As it turns out, samurai films don't stray too far from the historical truth. A case in point: in the recent samurai film 13 Assassins (review here), a small group of samurai must defend themselves from 200 warriors. One of their defensive tricks is to set fire to the backs of several bulls and send them careening angrily into the heart of the opposing forces. It's the kind of scene in an action movie you laugh at while at the same time applauding the filmmaker's crazy ass imagination. Well, it seems that there wasn't any imagination involved. During one of Japans interminable civil wars one army released a herd of flaming cattle into the ranks of their opponents. It worked a treat. And I have to wonder if just before the blazing herd hove into view one luckless samurai turned to another and asked, "Do you smell something good? I don't know why, but I've got this sudden urge for some Kobe beef."

Although this is supposed to be a history of the samurai, it would be more accurate to say that it's a lean and efficient political and military history of Japan from the Dark Ages up to the 1860s. It's not a pretty or noble history. For century after century Japan was consumed with civil wars and insurrections pitting clan and against clan. These bloody conflicts were often spectacular but, in essence, they were no different than the various turf wars between New York's mafia families. It was all about acquiring land and wealth. Militarism and intramural conflict so gripped Japan's ruling classes that there was little energy or wealth left over to develop the arts or sciences. The lack of vision or curiosity amongst Japan's ruling classes reached its zenith in the 1630s when the Shogun decided to effectively seal Japan off from the outside world. For the next 200 years Japan was preserved in amber.

"Take Your Kid To Work Day" originated in Japan

But back to the movies. Yes, the samurai were as ferocious and honour-obsessed as the films tell us; swordfights could erupt over points of etiquette, and seppuku (ritual suicide) was frighteningly common. What the movies don't tell us is that seppuku became a samurai favourite because it was the most painful way to die. It gave a wonderful, final boost to a samurai's street cred. Films usually show a warrior slicing himself once, groaning, and then keeling over. It was much nastier than that. Jonathan Clements, the author, does an excellent job of compressing a lot of history into a fairly short book, and his writing style is more populist than academic. But, like I said, I'm just glad that a great samurai film like The Sword of Doom (review here) turns out to have a basis in fact.

Film Review: The Sword of Doom (1966)

There are many aspects of samurai films that I love but one of my favourites is what I call the Stop, Drop and Die move. This occurs when a master samurai slashes his sword at several assailants and they immediately freeze in a standing position, often with their swords still upraised. This is the Stop portion of the move. We know they've been hit, they know they've been hit, but for a few seconds nothing happens. Now comes the Drop. The assailants slowly topple over or crumple to the ground. There's a certain elegance to this maneuver. You can't just drop to the ground and bounce like some cheap gangster, you have to go down like a neatly felled piece of bamboo. It's very zen. Finally, the Die. Once on the ground the samurai's victim is allowed one limb twitch or a muted groan. No histrionics, please.

I don't know what the Stop, Drop and Die signifies in Japanese culture, but there are lots of examples of it in The Sword of Doom, one of the best of the classic samurai films. The plot...do I have to? Is it really necessary? Oh, well, I'll try. Ryunosuke is a psycho samurai with a perpetual, spooky, thousand yard stare. Why is he like this? We aren't told. He murders a pilgrim for no reason at the beginning of the film, then follows that up by killing a samurai from another clan at what is supposed to be a non-lethal tournament. He then becomes a ronin and falls in with a gang working to support the shogunate. Toshiro Mifune is also around as a fencing master who intimidates Ryunosuke.

The plot borders on the opaque but the action elements and cinematography more than make up for it. This is one of best-looking samurai films ever. The highlight is an attack on the Toshiro Mifune character at night during a snowstorm. Even if there wasn't swordplay involved this would be a ravishing scene to look at, made even better by the fact that the film is in black and white. Snow scenes are made for black and white. Almost as good is the sequence in which Ryunosuke is attacked on a foggy road by rival clansmen. The final sequence is a triumph of art direction and fight choreography. Ryunosuke is in a tavern/brothel with his gang when he suddenly comprehends how evil his life has been. He's suddenly haunted by the shadows of the innocent people he's killed and in a demonic rage he begins slashing the walls apart. At this moment the gang moves in to assassinate Ryunosuke and thus begins a seven minute sequence of non-stop swordplay and Stop, Drop and Die. The film ends on a freeze frame of Ryunosuke still slashing and hacking. I thought this ending was a bit odd until I read that The Sword of Doom was supposed to be the first film in a trilogy, which, unfortunately, never came to pass.

The snowball fight quickly got out of hand.

If you're a casual fan of samurai films the wonky plot might be an annoyance, but if you're a hardcore samurai fan then the classic pleasures of the samurai film are here in abundance. A recent samurai film that's almost as good is 13 Assassins, which I reviewed here. Like Doom, it features a bad guy who's pure evil to the tips of his fingers. The trailer below was put together by a fan, but it's pretty good if you can ignore the music.

Film Review: 13 Assassins (2011)

The plot of most samurai films, like most kung fu films, is largely irrelevant. We're not watching samurai films to get a keener understanding of clan rivalries in feudal Japan. Nor are most samurai film fans obsessed with bushido, the samurai code of honour; we're just glad it existed so that samurai would have a handy excuse for slicing each other up. We watch samurai films for the swordplay, and 13 Assassins delivers mayhem in industrial quantities. The plot, for those who care, pits 12 samurai and one agile, deadly peasant against Lord Naritsugu and his 200 soldiers. Naritsugu must be killed because, well, he's so evil. How evil? If Hitler had an even more evil twin brother he wouldn't be as evil as this guy.

13 Assassins would be unremarkable if it was all about the body count. The Lone Wolf and Cub series of samurai films made in the 1970s were just as bloody, but they were short on artistry. Takeshi Miike, the director of 13 Assassins, shows a fine appreciation for the formal pleasures of the best samurai films. In the first half of the film characters are introduced and the plot is developed. Most of these scenes take place inside minimally furnished noble houses. For a director and cinematographer these are demanding scenes because all you're filming are people kneeling and talking in nearly bare rooms. There's very little to engage the eye. Miike makes the scenes come alive with beautifully lit and composed shots that are a pleasure all by themselves. And when the action moves outdoors, Miike and his cameraman are equally adept at framing figures and groups of soldiers against classic Japanese landscapes.

And the swordplay? Top notch, and there's lots of it. Some scenes in the final battle are a little over the top, and the warrior-peasant makes a remarkable recovery from a major injury, but all in all this film has to belong in the Premier League of samurai films.