MIFFburger #3: HARA KIRI - Death of a Samurai

一命Takashi Miike, 2011

Two Miike's down, one to go.

Hara Kiri: Death of a Samurai is a remake of Masaki Kobayashi's 1963 film, which I was unable to get my hands for viewing before seeing this new version, which I was pretty bummed about, as it is often talked about with the same awe and respect masterpieces from Kurosawa or Mizoguchi receive. But anyway, that will be high on the post MIFF to-do list.

At MIFF 2011 Miike well and truly proved that he could create a modern day Samurai film with an immense respect for the history of the genre as well as being wildly entertaining for contemporary audiences with 13 Assasins. It was one of my highlights of the entire festival and another feather in the cap of one of the most productive directors working today. Hara Kiri can definitely be seen as a sort of companion piece to 13 Assassins, both are remakes, both share a beautiful visual style, and both are period dramas. Yet their stories are quite different. Before I get into that, a very quick history lesson may be in order. The film is set in 1600s Japan, The Edo Period, a time when the houses of many feudal lords were being abolished by Tokugawa Ieyasu who had come into almost absolute power within Japan. Basically, if you were a Samurai and your master was killed, or his house fell, you became a Ronin; a masterless wanderer who would either commit Hara Kiri to save face/avoid shame or you wandered around looking for other work.

Hara Kiri is the story of Hanshiro Tsugumo, a disheveled ronin who has arrived at estate of the House if Ii. He has but one request: allow me to commit hara kiri within your courtyard in order to regain some measure of honour. But the master of the house, Kageyu Saito, is not convinced. The advent of the Edo Period has brought with it countless fallen Samurai, with many requesting the same thing at various estates across the land, either with genuine intent to commit suicide, or in an attempt to appeal to Lords' good nature, use their supposed death wish to veil their hope for employment, or at least some money to tide them over. Kageyu then goes on to warn Hanshiro by way of the tale of a young man named Motome, who arrived not long ago with the same request, only to meet his grisly end due to their clan's refusal to tolerate suicide bluffs. With their strict adherence to codes of Samurai honour, Kageyu sees to it that anyone who requests suicide, bluffing or not, will be accommodated.

The cautionary tale of Motome forms the first of the film’s two long flashback sequences, which alternate between this backstory and the present. Through these flashbacks, the mysterious Hanshiro character is developed and explored, with his true reasons for calling upon Kageyu slowly revealed. And I do mean slowly. I was quite surprised at how slow this slow burn is. Miike is in full-on classical mode here. The camera work is amazingly beautiful, the composition and framing feels like a stage production, and actors sit talking while glaring into each other's eyes with burning intensity. Visually, the film is flawless. Traditional Japanese estates and courtyards are recreated with a deep, rich colour palette, as are the countryside villages and costumes, which Miike uses to draw distinct differences between the different levels of the feudal hierarchy. On top of all this, the film is in 3D. Now, I usually make a point to not see 3D films, one, because I don't want to spend the extra few dollars and two, because it's pretty much always a headache inducing gimmick. Unfortunately, Hara Kiri falls into that ever growing category of "unnecessarily 3D movie that would be just as enjoyable in 2D". It does add an interesting, although slightly disorienting, layer of depth to the interiors of the film's beautiful sets, but ultimately it just reminded me of the kind of 3D virtual tours that you can find in Japanese castles or temples that recreate the former glory and beauty of the since destroyed/deteriorated site for tourists.

The film's restraint is not solely technical though. Fans of the exhilarating swordplay in 13 Assassins may be disappointed at Hara Kiri's contemplative nature. Miike opts to critique and question the notion of honour in a changing political landscape rather than no holds barred violence and spectacle, which really, is quite an unexpected move for him. Instead, we have a bleak, drawn out, emotional story of family and revenge that approaches Shakespeare or Greek Tragedy territory. If I had one problem, it was that this family story, told pretty much entirely through flashbacks, didn't fully engage me. I realise that it was absolutely essential to the presently unfolding events of the film, but it felt a bit out of balance for me. I also felt quite sorry for Hikari Mitsushima, who plays the film's token female Miho, who was not given much to do at all. She was quite underused, and must have felt a bit ripped off, especially since she has the impressive Love Exposure on her resume. Kabuki stage performer Ebizo Ichikawa carries the entire film as the unbelievably cool Hanshiro. His performance is a mesmerising quiet storm, sitting on the floor for the majority of the film, until duty calls and he dons his best pair of crazy eyez, gets his yojimbo swagger on and takes care of business in the film's sole fight scene.

The film's focus on dialogue and story serves to imbue the rare instances of bloodshed with a palpable intensity, the aforementioned fight scene served as something of an exhale of a breath I had been holding for the entire film without realising. The scenes of ritual suicide are particularly powerful. Miike's handling and orchestration of the disembowelling from which the film takes its name are masterful. The audience's horror is heightened and teased out through what is seen, unseen and what is heard. While the violence does allow Miike's penchant for blood to shine through, it does not bear his trademark excess. It is shockingly realistic and had many squirming, gasping and even laughing out of disbelief in Melbourne Central's XTREME screen.

While the film did feel a bit out of balance for me, it really is quite an achievement, a logical next step and new challenge for Miike after 13 Assassins. It was just the reliance on flashbacks that I had a bit of love/hate for. I would be interested to see how Kobayashi handled this in the original. I just think this just goes to show that Miike may be at his weakest while directing the more domestic/family oriented side of the film. Thank goodness for Ebizo Ichikawa, his performance is incredible and made the film's weaker moments much more bearable for me. One more shout-out is due for heavyweight composer Ryuichi Sakamoto, easily one of Japan's greatest composers, or even musicians full stop. Sakamoto also takes Miike's classical approach, contributing a brooding, elegiac score that perfectly matches the film.

I think that if you accept that this film isn't 13 Assassins (and doesn’t try to be) you will enjoy it more. Yes, it is very slow and the violence is in short supply, but by the time you reach the end you will have been treated to a few brilliant plot twists and badass moments. It continues to grow on me since I saw it, and really is quite thought provoking, with its concepts of honour and justice, as well as presenting a wealth of interesting Japanese history and culture.