Arrow Video: Eiichi Kudo's Samurai Revolution Trilogy (1963 - 1967) - Reviewed

Images courtesy of Arrow Video

Japanese writer-director Eiichi Kudo’s work has been resurfacing through the boutique label Radiance Films with their boxed set for The Bounty Hunter Trilogy and their standalone release of Yokohama BJ Blues.  Usually working within the jidaigeki subgenre with some exceptions, Kudo’s usual tenure was with Toei Films who produced his beloved and critically acclaimed Samurai Revolution Trilogy being released on Blu-ray disc outside of Japan for the first time through boutique label Arrow Video.  

A trio of intentionally unglamourous black-and-white Toeiscope 2.35:1 widescreen period jidaigekis beginning with 13 Assassins (remade by Takashi Miike in 2010) followed by The Great Killing and concluding with 11 Samurai, Kudo’s Tokugawa era star studded triptych all but dispelled any prior notions of grandeur and spectacle instead aiming for a rougher, more intimate down and dirty approach that’s gritty but also radiant and ultimately wholly captivating.  Rather than regarding the past with fondness, Kudo’s Samurai Revolution Trilogy sought to allegorically connect the past sociopolitical climate with that of then-present modern Japan. 
 
In the first film 13 Assassins, during 1844 the Tokugawa period Lord Matsudaira is wreaking havoc on not only the Japanese populace with his egregious and reckless behavior but particularly notions of the bushido code being disgraced by association.  After a number of reports come back of his transgressions including but not limited to wanton rape and murder, Lord Doi (Tetsuro Tanba) fearing he’s next on Matsudaira’s chopping block decides to order an assassination attempt on the Lord’s life.  Forming a group of thirteen assassins, the film becomes something of a talky procedural with lots of exposition and training sequences slowly building up towards the inevitable showdown filled with intensely choreographed swordfights and arrow barrages raining down on Matsudaira and his soldiers.  Unlike Miike’s noisy and boisterous nonstop actioner, Kudo’s film is more subtle and nuanced and takes its time working towards the bloodily violent clashing. 

 
Penned by The Great Killing screenwriter Kaneo Ikegami, featuring dynamic and carefully blocked camerawork by The Fort of Death cinematographer Juhei Suzuki and time honored mournful orchestral music by Akira Ifukube who would also score the third film 11 Samurai, 13 Assassins is generally regarded as the film that burst the floodgates open for its director.  Far more dialogue heavy and occasional in its bloodshed until the very end which kind of predates Sam Peckinpah’s The Wild Bunch in terms of excessive orgiastic crimson rivers, the film will come as a shock to those only familiar with the Miike remake not only for how close it is to the original but for how perhaps much grander this initial take on the story felt.  Despite having a smaller body count and gore quotient than the new one, somehow this feels bolder and like a more abrasive and unforgiving Seven Samurai without the humor or sentimentality of Akira Kurosawa’s vision.
 
Next in line, only a year later, is The Great Killing starring Takayuki Akutagawa and Kotaro Satomi, a kind of continuation of sorts of the Tokugawa period era set embattlements of chicanery and betrayal.  Centered around Jinbo (Kotaro Satomi), an ordinary swordsman whose wife is murdered before him in broad daylight by government troops dressed to impress, he goes into hiding with an apolitical ronin.  Gradually finding the strength to regroup with a ragtag group of conspirators intent on hitting back at the ruthless political tyranny being inflicted on the people, eventually Jinbo works with the conspirators back into the Yoshiwara red light district where an all-out war breaks out in an extended sequence of handheld bloodshed, chaos and disorder in perhaps one of the greatest action sequences ever conceived and shot.
 
Working with eventual Tora! Tora! Tora! cinematographer Osamu Furuya, the film straddles a tightrope walk between elegance and abrasion from ornate wide shots of characters moving through rainy alleyways to shaky handheld scenes near the grand finale.  And for Akira Kurosawa’s Sanshiro Sugata composer Seiichi Suzuki in his final score, the tone of the piece much like Akira Ifukube’s a year before strikes a note of desperation and anger hitting rock bottom and clawing back to the top emotionality.  

The hero of the piece played by Kotaro Satomi from 13 Assassins initially appears bold, calm and confident when he takes a runaway under his roof only to devolve into a fearful wild animal trying to survive and avenge the wrong done upon him.  Co-starring in the piece is legendary Tokyo Story and Shogun actor Toru Abe and The Face of Another actor Mikijiro Hira as the crusty ronin, the ensemble revenge jidaigeki sort of follows in the footsteps of 13 Assassins but feels more personal somehow boiling down to one character’s vendetta.
 
Third and perhaps best in the trilogy is 1967’s 11 Samurai once again starring Kotaro Satomi in a central role alongside Isao Natsuyagi and Koji Nanbara, a most ornate and carefully mannered revenge warfare jidaigeki which seems to draw from the initial concept of 13 Assassins and oxygenate it with greater urgency and flair.  Co-authored by Takeo Kunihuro, Norifumi Suzuki and Kei Tasaka and reuniting with composer Akira Ifukube whose score frankly sounds like a loose reworking of his Gojira soundtrack, 11 Samurai like 13 Assassins before it is loosely based on the infamous Matsudaira though for this 1839 Tokugawa epic, the name is changed to young hotheaded Lord Nariatsu (Kantaro Suga).  

Willfully against the better judgment of his vassals, Nariatsu crosses over into enemy territory while hunting and upon being confronted by an opposing clan lord he pettily angrily fires an arrow into the man’s eye socket blinding but not killing him.  After a miscarriage of justice which lets the offending Nariatsu get off Scott free, Chamberlain Tatewaki (Koji Nanbara) and Chief Hayato (Isao Natsuyagi) decide to take matters into their own hands and form a group of eleven loyal samurai including a ronin named Ido (Ko Nishimura) keen on avenging the deaths of his siblings. 
 
From Samurai Wolf cinematographer Sadaji Yoshida’s crisp scope camerawork to Ifukube’s mournful (again, Gojira sounding) score, 11 Samurai in contrast to 13 Assassins makes out of Nariatsu a far more overtly offending adversary you can’t help but hate from the moment you lay eyes on him and is consistently a far more engaging piece.  Though structurally and conceptually similar, 13 Assassins takes well into 75% of the film’s running time for it to finally begin whereas 11 Samurai gets knee deep in death and destruction rather early on.  

Aided by the late but welcome appearance of beloved recurring Akira Kurosawa actor Ko Nishimura in the role of a disillusioned ronin thirty for vengeance, Kinji Fukusaku actor Isao Natsuyagi as the central protagonist Chief Hayato who with Branded to Kill actor Koji Nanbara’s Chief Tatewaki join forces to form the titular 11 Samurai, its a terrific tightly packed ensemble actioner.  Of course all of it wouldn’t feel earned without the slimy performance of Sword of the Beast actor Kantaro Suga as a prissy sadistic evildoer that will remind Western viewers of a certain Joffrey Baratheon from Game of Thrones.  You love to hate this guy so much you can taste your bloodlust.
 
Curated in a limited edition three-disc trilogy box replete with an illustrated collector’s booklet featuring numerous essays by Chris D, Earl Jackson and Alain Silver, Eiichi Kudo’s Samurai Revolution Trilogy comes housed with reversible sleeve art and limited-edition packaging.  Featuring several new video essays by James Balmont, Kudo’s former AD Misao Airai, Dirty Kudo and Daisuke Miyao, each disc is jam packed with bonus content assessing the films legacies and place in the pantheon of mid-1960s jidaigekis.  The first film includes an audio commentary by Midnight Eye Asian cinema expert Tom Mes while the second and third installments are covered by David West.  

While the first film 13 Assassins is generally the most well known and regarded thanks to the Takashi Miike film, the whole saga of films by Eiichi Kudo represents an antidote to the more glamourous and pasteurized samurai epics of the past in favor of something more grounded in present-day reality.  Arrow Video’s trilogy represents an important collection for world cinephiles keen on Asian cinema and like 88 Films and Radiance Films the boutique label continues to usher in great comprehensive special edition releases of pinnacles of Asian cinema that were previously a lot harder to come by.

--Andrew Kotwicki