Harakiri (The Criterion Collection) [Blu-ray]

Bushido, the way of the samurai, in theory, provides a noble idea, but like all ideas, some change to fit personal goals and agendas. Derived from four major philosophical and spiritual sources (Buddhism, Confucianism, Shintoism, and Zen) the samurai generated the Bushido, as the samurai had to be fearless, enlightened, and reflective while displaying both compassion and self-control. The samurai sought the true way to become the ultimate warrior where he displayed respect and reverence for both friend and foe. For centuries, the samurai had sought an inner path to enlightenment, righteousness, and dexterity while serving a clan with their skills in swordsmanship. Here Masaki Kobayashi, a proponent against authoritarian power, directs a samurai tale that illustrates how the concept of the Bushido transforms into a self-serving design. In the year 1630, the island that now goes under its native name, Nippon, also known as Japan to westerners, was only in its beginning of the Tokugawa shogunate, which lasted for some 250 years. The major difference with the Tokugawa compared to previous military leaders was that they unified their powers while exterminating smaller and less prosperous clans. It left numerous samurai without masters, as they had to drift into an unemployed existence also known as ronin. In Harakiri, known as Seppuku, in Japan, the audience learns about the socioeconomic and political changes that a ronin faced after the loss of a position while suffering from poverty and hunger. This story is set within the walls of the Iyi clan's stronghold. The audience should also know that the Iyi clan was a supporter of the Tokugawa shogunate. Images of the Iyi clan's traditional armor open the film with a hauntingly stark presence, as the dark background contrasts the armor while fog drifts aimlessly around the armor. Analogously, the opening imagery presents a notion of a dark, resistive, and hollow presence, as no human fills the armor. It also provides the impression of lacking compassion while this clan's symbol represents the clan's merciless power and might. Eventually, the imagery forcefully fades into reality where it sits on the clan's high seat overlooking the clan and its fiefdom. Out of the Iyi clan's log, a narration informs the viewer about a samurai and former retainer of the Fukashima Clan that arrives to the Iyi clan's grounds, which brings the audience back in time through a flashback. This man is Hanshiro Tsugumo (Tatsuya Nakadai). Hanshiro requests to use the Iyi clan's forecourt of the Iyi's stronghold for a ritual suicide (harakiri) where the samurai cuts open his own abdomen in order to uphold his honor. Before the clan approves of his request, the senior counselor of the house of Iyi, Kageyu Saito (Rentaro Mikuni) meets with him. In his meeting, Kageyu informs Hanshiro about a recent incident where another man arrived who made a similar request. Together with Hanshiro the audience learns that other ronin have made the same request in the hope of obtaining a position, or getting a little money. However, the Iyi clan does not deviate, as they will make sure that the ronin executes harakiri by following the rules of Bushido. The story does not deter Hanshiro who remains steadfast in his decision of performing harakiri. Well spread hearsay has reached Hanshiro's ears that the Iyi clan possesses a number of terrific swordsmen, as he requests one to be his assistant. The assistant's sword skills will serve the purpose of decapitated the Hanshiro's head when the pain of gutting himself becomes too painful, which in a way helps save face, no pun intended. However, none of the men that he requests are present, as they all are absent for the day due to illness. Yet, Hanshiro requests one of these men, as he wants the job done properly. Consequently, Kageyu sends for them, and while they wait Hanshiro begins to share his life story for Kageyu and the present samurai. Hanshiro's story is a perplexing and mesmerizing tale that will pull the audience in several unexpected directions, as director Kobayashi portrays a strong criticism of authoritarian rule of Iyi clan and their abuse of the Bushido. Kobayashi's vision does not only reflect of historical incidents several centuries ago, but also, he freely criticizes the abusiveness of despotic power which shows complete disregard for the individual. This is something he personally experienced as a private, even though he was offered an officer position, in World War II, a war he referred to as, "the culmination of human evil." Now less than two decades after the war, Kobayashi ironically sets the tale during the Tokugawa shogunate, which we now know exists no more. This knowledge serves an intentional reminder that despotic rule never lasts, as people eventually will always overcome the oppressiveness, as they did after World War II. In regards to the aftermath of both World War II and the Tokugawa shogunate, Kobayashi points out that the individuals of the lower socioeconomic levels suffer far worse than those in power, as those in power always find away to bend the rules to their favor. Harakiri offers much more than mere sword fight, as Kobayashi allows the audience to reflect over the social application of the Bushido and the abuse of the samurai code. In addition, Kobayashi playfully applies masterful symbolism that intentionally criticizes the political perspective of totalitarian rule in a jidaigeki (also known as chambara, or sword fight in a period film that takes place between 1600 and 1868.) This is why Harakiri emerges as one of the bewildering cinematic masterpieces that compares with Rashômon (1950), with its mysterious element, and Seven Samurai (1954) by Kurosawa and Miyamoto Musashi's samurai trilogy with its social impact in the shadow of Bushido. Lastly, through the combination of brilliant camerawork, a clever script, and terrific performances by the cast all are come together under Kobayashi's skillful direction that leaves the viewers with a lasting and truly amazing cinematic experience.

This has got to be one of the greatest artistic illustrations of rebellion against an oppressive and cunning authority. A timeless ordeal that has marred humanity since our infancy is brought here (in HARA KIRI) to the most stunning, effective and thought-provoking representation I've ever witnessed on film. The premise and the narrative are simple enough for anyone to comprehend, yet wrought with limitless subtlety to keep the thinker thinking for a very long time. This film will infinitely test the Draconian thinker as it's difficult for the rationalist to bend under passionate distress. But when humanity presents itself naked and powerless, even Samurai code is put to the test. This film is a terrific representation of both sides of a uniquely human equation. On one hand, we are bound to the authorities which we invent. On the other, we are bound to the humanity with which we are born. As honorable as it is to remain tenacious for a belief, it's just as honorable to fight relentlessly for survival. It's just plain wrong, however, for authority to manipulate the very honor for which it is regarded in order to spite or punish those who struggle to live. I can understand and respect punishment, but I will never respect or agree with punishment that is handed out fraudulently. An early character is this film commits hara kiri, believing that given his present circumstances, hara kiri is the most honorable and respectable way die. Unbeknownst to him, however, his superiors are using hara kiri as a means of punishment, made all the more brutal and inhumane through the use of a bamboo blade. Had the character committing hara kiri disclosed his situation to his superiors, or had his superiors asked the character to disclose his situation, the hara kiri and ensuing revenge plot might have been avoided entirely. But unfortunately, our unwavering fortitude under invented systems of belief and authority can and will inevitably lead to tragic ends. As far as the picture is concerned, Criterion nails it. Unless you're a raging cinephile, ignore the cropping criticisms. The experts at Criterion wouldn't crop unless it were absolutely necessary to improve the overall aesthetic virtues of the transfer. Regardless, the cropping is insignificant; the cinematography remains among the best ever. I was floored by some of the close-ups; they're really shocking. It's obvious after seeing this film where modern Japanese filmmakers find their inspiration. This is about as beautiful as black and white gets, the most beautiful b&w film I've seen being THE WHITE RIBBON on BD. This transfer comes pretty darn close to that, and this film is how old again? Criterion are good at respectfully handling grain. So, no issues there. There are spots and scratches every now and then, but they're extremely few and insignificant. If it weren't for their occasional appearance, it would be difficult to discern the age of this movie. The audio is mono. What more can be said about it? Yes, it's as true to the source as you're going to get, and it's extremely clean, but it's still mono. I hope you enjoy this film as much as I did :)

Some good reviews and good attempts to summarize the plot. I urge that no one be put off by the anticipation that it will be confusing or overly complex. The story is told largely in flashback, and somewhat out of sequence, but it makes perfect sense to tell it that way, somehow. It is in no way hard to follow, and the exposition unfolds perfectly. This movie is very strongly made up of Japanese cultural influences and history, yet the themes and underlying conflicts are universal. This is a human drama, told through strong empathetic characters. Hanshiro is one of the most admirable characters I have ever seen depicted...from his (anecdotal) heroism at Sekigahara, his honorable action when the clan is disbanded, raising his son, to whom he exhibits great love and loyalty, to the fact that when reduced to making umbrellas, he seems to be a painstaking and diligent craftsman. AND he gets to be a doting grandpa, babytalking and mugging to his little grandson. Then when he has lost it all, he acts, again, with honor, in the only way left to him. Much is made of Kobayashi's undeniable attacks on authoritarianism, but it is also undeniable that to the end Hanshiro is the MOST honorable and the MOST true to the ideals bushido would have an individual uphold. The failure of bushido, as with any system of ideals, is in the imperfect humans who try (or do not) to uphold them, not necessarily in the ideals themselves. This is a wonderful film, beautifully composed and well-acted. The actor portraying the Chamberlain does a fine job, in particular. Hanshiro's rebellion is directed fully at him, and in the end, it is difficult to tell what effect the exposure of so many dishonorable actions has had on him. SPOILER!!! (as if you don't already know...) One thing that has been little mentioned is the bleakness of the ending...in the end, the scribe notes only that on that date, one samurai committed honorable bushido in the House of Iyi, and a large number of retainers died of illness. Indeed, the narrator records that publically, the Iyi clan got away with everything, covering up the truth. The last shot, of the armor restored, soulless and imposing, is chilling. The more so noting the date of the action was 1630, and the code and society that drove Hanshiro to his desparate action was to continue for over two centuries.

The story has everything in it, including tragedy and dark humor. The main theme is revenge, but also apotheosis: a Samurai breaking with the definition of his life to be true to his inner self. He calls the Samurai code a "facade", and then proves it by kicking butt in the most realistic one-man stand I have ever enjoyed in movies. This film has the most realistically correographed sword fights I have ever seen. None of the fashionable flashing swords and furious (jiggly) camera work that typifies filmed sword fights, especially in recent years. Even in 1962, this was a uniquely faithful depiction of kendo - the discipline of the "perfect cut." The fighters like to stay well out of range until they can attack or counter attack without getting hurt! "No duh." But how many movies really show this natural caution in fighters? No others that I can think of off-hand. This masterpiece blows away Kurosawa's stuff, which I also enjoy a great deal. Harakiri is just as artfully done, both the cinematography and the direction, but it is far more realistic visually. (I am glad it was in black and white!) It is very tight and fast-paced, despite a lot of scenes where people are just looking at each other and talking. I wish more films were this balanced, instead of the steady move toward more gratuitous action and less drama that feels connected to real life. The characters are alien in the way they act, to American eyes, but their emotions are completely reachable. Harakiri is a perfect reminder of why I enjoy foreign film so much: it puts me in touch with humanity from another place and time. And being in touch, I know that we are at the core always the same. Tradtion and culture do not change our emotions or desires for happiness. And family lies at the very center of achieving it, or becoming so grief stricken that we welcome death. (A technical observation about correography of sword duels in films: this film has the right feel about what we see. I think that depicting a sword and shield duel in Viking Iceland would, if authentically portrayed, show the same thing: a lot of long range circling and feinting, with constant eye contact, and a few bursts of attack and reaction.)

What a haunting, searing film. It is my favorite film, of all genres including modern. And I do watch a lot of films. The film was made in 1962 and it features people who lived in 17th century Japan. And yet here we are in the 21st century, still discussing the still-relevant issues that the film raises, and also the compelling, human people who are shown in the film. The film starts calmly, with Tsugumo Hanshiro (masterfully played by Nakadai Tatsuya), a middle-aged ronin who once served a clan that has been abolished by the Shogunate, appearing at the gate of the Edo headquarters of the Ii clan. He requests a spot within their mansion to commit seppuku, as he no longer wishes to live in the extreme poverty that he has lived in for the past years. In the course of the film, details are given about 17th century Japanese history and society, so that a viewer does not have to have studied extensively to know of the situations confronting the characters. To sum up: thousands of samurai retainers had been thrown out of their positions, made into lordless ronin, by the wholesale abolishing of clans by the bakufu government. In the rigid class system (samurai, farmers, artisans, merchants) that had been set up by the bakufu after the Tokugawa shoguns had established their reign, these displaced ex-retainers had no place at all; they were forced into marginal modes of subsistance -- either as outlaws or into very low-paying teaching or artisan trades. The film unfolds after its stark beginning. In his inner headquarters, Saito Kageyu (Mikuni Rentaro), the chief retainer of the Ii clan, bemoans the fact that hordes of starving ronin have been making similar requests at various clan gates; most have wanted handouts rather than to actually commit seppuku, and Kageyu suspects the same of Hanshiro. But he agrees to meet with him. Kageyu attempts to discourage Hanshiro with a tale of another ronin, a younger man from the same abolished clan, Chijiiwa Motome (played poignantly by Ishihama Akira). Motome had appeared at the clan's gate a few months earlier, requesting to commit seppuku for the same reasons. Kageyu reveals to Hanshiro that this younger man had been discovered to be carrying sword blades of bamboo (he had pawned his real swords) and tells of the outrage that his clan members had felt when a man requests to commit seppuku but does not possess the weapon for carrying out this request (a wakizashi made of metal, not bamboo) -- so it had been obvious to the Ii clansmen that Motome had wanted to extort the clan for a handout and had no intention of committing seppuku. So as an example to other scrounging, poor ronin, particularly those who don't carry real blades, the Ii clan members had decided to make an example of Motome. They had forced him to commit seppuku with his own bamboo wakizashi. What happens following Kageyu's tale told to Hanshiro will tear your heart and drive you to view the film over and over. The story proceeds onward, toward its inevitable end, playing out like the best of Greek or Shakespearian tragedy.

One of the most unique of samurai tales, this is a movie that is a worthy addition to your classic film collection even if you are not a huge fan of the genre. Despite all of the blood on the cover, the fight scenes are at a minimum and used only for specific purpose. The film focuses on the fact that for many the "samurai code" is overly romantacized, hijacked, and used for evil purpose. Just as the greatest threat to the church is from false prohets, "false samurai" likewise do a huge disservice to a historically evolving Japan in search of a new identity and direction. Without getting into spoilers, the movie uses one such aspect of the samurai code, ritualistic suicide, and turns it inside out. Often times, it's the ones watching the death that should be dieing, and not the other way around. The movie is perfectly executed with the exception of one portion of the film that moves somewhat slow. This is as much a plot device as anything else however, an example of the care that director Kobayashi puts behind the characters. When a noble ronin is forced to act in a manner that makes him look dishonorable, you almost sense the director knew how pure his motivations were, and so he intentionally draws out the deplorable conditions that lead the ronin to that point. In this way the viewer understands the motivation without a shadow of doubt as to the character's true nature. There will be no mistaken dishonor here. Even if giving this slow section of the movie 4 out of 5 stars, the other portions of the movie more than make up for it with brilliant set-ups, a stunning conclusion, excellent filming, and a unique, non-formulaic, and well acted script. Everyone throws around such accolades as "one of the best films" all the time, but in this case it's really true. Powerful and highly recommended.

What a great movie. I had no idea it would be this good. I bought it because I loved the director (Masaki Kobayashi) and actor (Tatsuya Nakadail). Both this director and actor were also in The Human Condition film, which is even better. This movie isn’t a typical “sword fighting” movie. It does have this but the story is more about the outdated practices and suicidal methods of the samurai. Very dramatic and well acted and directed. The Criterion Collection, as usual, was outstanding. Many extras included. Interview with director, actor and others. A nice, thick “book” included. I watched all extras and read the insert book. I wasn’t disappointed.

There is no question that this is the best Samurai movie ever made. Masaki Kobayashi's film is an indictment of the hypocrisy of the establishment, any establishment, would it be in feudal 17th Century Japan or in any other time. Dogma, on which the establishment's authority rests, is evil. The established, codified order, with all its smoke and mirrors, must be preserved at all costs, and nothing must be allowed to come in its way. It is the duty of each member of any government, organization, church, or brotherhood not to spare any effort and to go to any length to protect the appearances and status quo, to achieve this essential goal of survival. The end justifies the means, and no lie or deceit can be eliminated if this survival is at stake. In Japan, Seppuku is the formal term for ritual suicide by disembowelment. Harakiri, as it is known in the West, is the common term, which literally means "stomach cutting." It was an integral part of bushido, the code of conduct of the samurai warrior class. Seppuku was ordered by a superior as punishment to redeem some offence, or chosen over a dishonorable death at the hands of an enemy. In both cases, it demonstrated the honor, courage, loyalty, and high moral character of the individual. Except when performed on a battlefield, it was a very formal ceremony, requiring certain etiquette, witnesses and considerable preparation. Harakiri is a particularly painful and rather messy way of ending one's days. In this ritual, the "performer" opens his abdomen, starting from left to right and then finishing from top toward bottom. But there is so need to be left for hours contemplating one's entrails. Another swordsman acting as a "second," called kaishakunin, is standing by to decapitate the departing at a pre-arranged moment in the ceremony. Lord Ieyasu Tokugawa, who founded Japan's last great shogunate dynasty in 1603, ordered the practice of harakiri to be discontinued by both secondary and primary retainers. Later on, in 1663, a stronger edict from Lord Nobutsuna Matsudaira of Izu, put an end to the practice altogether. By that time, the ritual had become an idle formalism, and the "performer" was decapitated at the instant he took his sword out of the scabbard, thus avoiding a painful death. In some instances, the sword was replaced by a fan. Hanshiro Tsugomo (Tatsuya Nakadai) comes to the castle of the Iyi Clan to seek revenge for the humiliation and cruel death of his son-in-law, Anjiwa Motome (Akira Ishihama). Kobayashi is a superb storyteller, and in a slow and deliberate rhythm, he develops his story, which could have been taken from the pages of the Iliad or of the Mahabharata. The tension grows, as the Clan members slowly realize that they are in turn being humiliated by this stranger who truly believe in the samurai code of honor: he must be terminated to prevent him to broadcast his truth. The final duel with the master swordsmen of the Clan, Hikukuro Omodaka, on the Plains of Gojin-in, is like a meditation, a ballet of death. The film ends in a spectacular combat, and the coup de grace to Hanshiro Tsugomo's seppuku is fittingly not applied by a gallant swordsman, but a cowardly platoon of muskets. Even to the end, the samurai honor code has been violated by the Clan. The screenplay by Shinobu Hashimoto is based on a novel by Yasuhiko Takiguchi. The cinematography, by Yoshio Miyajima, in black and white, is gorgeous. Many on the shots are haiku-like in the imagery. The musical score, written for an ensemble of ancient instruments and percussion by the renowned classical composer Toru Takemitsu, is used sparingly throughout the film. The music speaks as the dialogs sing. As Toshiro Mifune has long been associated with the success of Kurosawa's films, so are Kogayashi's films enhanced by the brilliant interpretation of Tatsuya Nakadai (also staring in the leading roles in Kurosawa's Kagemusha,and Ran). This outstanding actor contributed further to the success of this director's films, Kwaidan and the Samurai Rebellion. Although taking place almost five centuries ago during the Tokugawa Shogunate, this film is also a strong denunciation of the entrenched cultural legacy of coercive rituals, blind obedience, and chauvinism that resulted in the tragedy of the Pacific War.