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> Harakiri [VHS] |
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Staring:
Tatsuya Nakadai,
RentarĂ´ Mikuni,
Shima Iwashita,
Akira Ishihama,
Shichisaburo Amatsu
Director:
Masaki Kobayashi
Average Customer Rating:     
List Price: $29.95
Our Price: $14.79
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Audience Rating: NR (Not Rated) Binding: VHS Tape EAN: 9786303261737 Format: Black & White, NTSC ISBN: 6303261736 Label: Homevision Manufacturer: Homevision Number Of Items: 1 Publisher: Homevision Release Date: 2000-06-06 Running Time: 133 Studio: Homevision Theatrical Release Date: 1964-08-04 |
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Description In this grim yet exquisitely composed film, Kobayashi delves into the world of the 17th-century samurai, examining "the honor in death--and the death of honor" (Time). After an unemployed samurai is forced to commit harakiri before a feudal lord, his father-in-law returns to the scene, seemingly to play out the same agonizing suicide ritual. Tensions grow to excruciating levels, then find thrilling release as the elder warrior strikes out one last time against a cruelly rigid society.
Amazon.com 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
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    Best Japanese history film ever, 2009-06-28 If you're even halfway interested in Japanese history, or how the Japanese became what they are today, this film is a must. It moves along nicely, has a lot of interest, and will educate in all kinds of ways without making you feel that you're being educated. Production and transfer (to DVD) values are uniformly excellent.
    Harakiri - Criterion Collection , 2009-03-11 Harakiri - Criterion Collection
One of the best samurai movie ever made.The single word to represent it: grandiose!
    One of my favorite Japanese films of all time, 2010-01-07 The retainer log book for the Official Residence of Lord Iyi reports that at midday on an otherwise uneventful day on the thirteenth of May 1630, during the absence of the Honorable Heir Bennosuke, a gaunt, former retainer of the Lord of Geishu arrives at the mansion gates and is granted an interview with the Iyi clan elder, Saito Kayegu (Rentaro Mikuni). The solemn and enigmatic ronin (masterless samurai), Tsugumo Hanshiro (Tatsuya Nakadai), has led a dire life of poverty since the abolition of the Geishu clan in 1619, and now expresses his desire to die with dignity and commit harakiri (ritual disembowelment) in the sanctity of warlord grounds. However, in an era of peace with few employment prospects for samurai in the dwindling local feudal clans that were allowed to remain after the centralization of power by the Tokugawa shogunate, the request has become commonplace. Spurred by reports of generosity and benevolence towards the destitute ronins among the surviving clans, many desperate samurai have insincerely requested admission to commit harakiri with the expectation of being turned away with a small pittance. Saito cautions Tsugumo against making such a request, citing a pathetic and tragic incident involving another Geishu retainer, Chijiwa Motome (Akira Ishihama), who insincerely threatened harakiri as a ruse to obtain charity, and was compelled by the Iyi retainers to carry out the agonizing ritual using only a bamboo blade - the empty tokens of his privileged class pawned long ago to provide for his family. Undeterred, Tsugumo reaffirms his determination to perform the sacred act of seppuku (the disembowelment ritual performed in the presence of a second officiate swordsman who carries out the final head cutting), and requests the services of swordsman, Omodaka Hikokuro (Tetsuro Tamba), to act as his second officiate. Upon learning that Omodaka has taken a leave of absence, Tsugumo names two other Iyi retainers to carry out the task, Kawabe Umenosuke (Yoshio Aoki), then Yazaki Hayato (IchirĂ´ Nakaya), to no avail. As Tsugumo waits for the indisposed retainers, he proceeds to recount the story of his disillusioned life that led to this fateful day.
Based on a novel by Yasuhiko Takiguchi, Harakiri is a scathing indictment on the hypocrisy, repression, and barbarism of codified behavior. Using rigid rectangular framing against fluid tracking shots and exquisitely composed long shots that delineate class station and social disparity, Masaki Kobayashi visually reflects the oppressive confinement and regimentation of the samurai bushido (code of conduct): the title sequence presented against shots of the empty passageways that lead to the sacred chamber of the Iyi clan's ancestral armor; the isolating, diagonal shots of Saito's interviews with Tsugumo and Chijiwa; the repeated image of Tsugumo on a ceremonial mat encircled by retainers. By illustrating the class stratification and imposed social conformity fostered by the Tokugawa shogunate (1600-1867) as a means of retaining and centralizing authority, Kobayashi presents a harrowing indictment of the ingrained cultural legacy of coercive, outmoded rituals, chauvinism, and blind obedience that resulted in the inhumanity and senseless tragedy of the Pacific War.
    Who can fathom the depths of another man's soul?, 2009-10-20 Following the Battle of Sekigahara and the Tokugawa clan's final assumption of national rule as the last and most powerful shogunate, Japan experienced a large and enduring influx of ronin as a result of this shogunate's calculated, underhanded elimination of numerous influential daimyo and provincial clans. As a result of this collective fall from grace (the likes of which would not be witnessed again until the onset of the Meiji Restoration), a trend occurred in which impoverished ronin visited the houses of thriving clans and requested permission to commit ritual suicide on their grounds as a means to end their suffering and preserve their honor. Many of these requests were legitimate; many more were ploys to obtain a position or monetary handout in response to the pitiable state of these former warriors.
Adapted by famed screenwriter Shinobu Hashimoto from a story by novelist Yasuhiko Takiguchi and directed by Masaki Kobayashi with the intense and maudlin milieu common to his films, "Harakiri" is a tragedy of two such samurai - one a disgraced and desperate fraud, the other a weathered and earnest veteran of the late Sengoku war. At different times in the same year, both men arrive at the Edo compound of a flourishing and rigorous clan, the leadership of which has no intention of affording charity or anything other than seppuku to those samurai who come calling for it. However, neither man is quite what he seems to be, and the terrible consequences of the clan's brusque adherence to lawful bushido slowly unfold, revealing institutional hypocrisy and personal devastation of an unspeakable magnitude.
Even by Kobayashi's usual standards, the technical quality of this picture is beyond critique. His flawless, dynamic anamorphic composition is enhanced by some of the most beautiful, nuanced photography ever committed to black and white stock. Of the set and costume design, the period detail is exquisite. The only film of greater beauty and aesthetic merit in Kobayashi's oeuvre is the ornate (and incomparably expensive) "Kaidan." Alternately frantic, mournful and haunting, Toru Takemitsu's muscular, noisy, biwa-driven score is complemented by a chamber string orchestra - arrangements typical of his 1960s output.
Befitting a production of such excellence, its famous performers are entirely credible in their demanding roles. Tatsuya Nakadai potently expresses grief, desperation and moral outrage as the honest and truly honorable protagonist in opposition to Rentaro Mikuni's arrogant counselor and the cruel retainers at his command. As in the "The Human Condition" trilogy and "Samurai Rebellion," Kobayashi ably depicts the suffering of the individual as a result of authoritarian abuses of power. Although the particular target of this film's scathing indictment is the society of the Edo period - in which the image of honor was often deemed more important than honorable acts - its condemnation of tyrannical abuse possesses a universal appeal. Kobayashi had no interest in pushing an agenda or promoting ideology; where he perceived infamy in Japanese society (and especially that of its military), he sought to expose it.
Carefully paced, emotionally exhausting and consistently unpredictable, "Harakiri" is among the most heart-wrenching and thrilling of all filmic jidaigeki. Challenging and often difficult for its audience, its crushing misery and impressive swordplay are only matched by the outrageous injustice of its denouement.
    The finest "anti-samurai" samurai film ever made; a true work of art!, 2009-07-24 (Note: All names are in Western order, given name then family name. Now, on to the review...) This is probably the finest chambara film you'll ever see, or at least that is my humble opinion. When I decided some time ago to go on a binge of watching so-called "samurai films," I did a small amount of research and decided to see this one first. I had previously only seen Kurosawa's films, and, in my humble opinion, he did not make optimum use of the great Tatsuya Nakadai the way that Masaki Kobayashi has in this film and others. I think Kobayashi/Nakadai is at least as powerful a collaborative combination as Kurosawa/Mifune. What is more, the film is a visual and conceptual masterpiece, symmetrically drawn by meticulous master Kobayashi (like Kurosawa he trained as an artist) and scripted by Shinobu Hashimoto, who also did great service for the more well-known (in the West anyway) Kurosawa.
This film concerns the happening (as shown at the beginning chronicled by the scribe of the House of Ii) in the case of a middle-aged ronin, Hanshiro Tsugumo (Nakadai, at age 29, playing age 50), who requests the use of the clan's forecourt so that he may commit seppuku (hara-kiri as it is also known) to end his days honorably, for he is starving in this post-Warring States economy. As a samurai warrior in peacetime, his services are no longer in demand, so he is forced to take piecemeal employment, observing all the prohibitions inherent in the Japanese class system (for instance, a samurai may not make footwear because of a sandal's proximity to the ground--thus only lower class craftsmen may do this). Clan Councilor Kageyu Saito (Rentaro Mikuni) hears Tsugumo's request and proceeds to tell him what he considers a cautionary tale of another ronin who had earlier made the same request. Mikuni is appropriately reserved, soft-spoken and serious; these requests have caused the Ii and other houses serious problems, because many ronin have been given a few coins to hold them over and told to go away, or in other cases, they have been given low-level employment because the appeal was so audacious and extreme. This has caused a problem, and Saito as representative of the powerful Ii family must address it.
What follows is the slow unfolding of the sad tale of Tsugumo's fallen fortunes and the uncovering of the Ii's conception of samurai honor. Kobayashi called it an "anti-samurai film," and indeed it is. Tsugumo, by slow recitation and careful maneuvering, presents his appeal and the reasons for it in a manner that builds a powerful and scathing indictment of what officially passed for "honor" in the days of the Tokugawa Shogunate. We are treated (if you can call it that) to a graphically horrible scene of ritual disemboweling at which the honorable swordsman and loyal Ii retainer Hikokuro Omodaka (Tetsuro Tamba in fine restrained form, the very picture of the ideal samurai swordsman) presides as kaishakunin (the "second" who performs the decapitation, which ends the ceremony). Omodaka recites the traditions of the ritual and takes care to project the image of the Ii clan as one who is the pinnacle of adherence to traditional honor. He is a true believer.
Presiding mutely over the entire formalized stageplay atmosphere is a symbol that might as well be the meat of the Ii's code of honor and the message of this film--it is an empty set of armor, the master's armor, which is set up and revered beyond measure. If it is disturbed or threatened, the retainers must defend it as if it were the most important of living beings. And yet it is empty, having not been required since the closing battles of the last era of warring states (relatively recent though they were in this setting). This is Kobayashi's message--the notion of honor as codified can only be an empty platitude in the face of the true human condition as represented by Tsugumo, who makes sure that Saito and the full measure of attending retainers are completely aware of that fact and its ramifications. Tatsuya Nakadai was trained as a stage actor primarily, and his resonant, very loud declamatory tone as he addresses the assembled Ii retainers is evident and creates an effect that rivets all watchers, both on-screen and in armchairs at home. This film was my first real introduction to just how powerful Nakadai is as a personality--he is at least Mifune's equal, although they are characteristically quite different (thus making films in which they clash with each other ultra-enjoyable, but I digress...) .
This film can be called a jidai-geki, as it is set in historical times, but more properly it is in the tradition of the chambara, the swordplay film. It is a fictional account in specifics, but set in 1630, not terribly long after the forces of Ieyasu Tokugawa united the bulk of the country under his rule. Basically, Ieyasu had consolidated his victory, and his grandson Iemitsu reigned. Many institutions of the Shogunate were still in their formative stages at this time; samurai who had previously been active were decommissioned and idled. Many more were disenfranchised or unseated due to having been aligned against Ieyasu as well.
Tsugumo is shown in a flashback (a device used a lot in this film) repairing the battlements of Hiroshima Castle with his good friend Jinnai Chijiwa (Yoshio Inaba, one of the original Seven Samurai), a fellow samurai (on the orders of his lord at the time). This seemingly innocent action was taken by the Tokugawa to be a possible threat--the act of preparing for hostilities by getting a castle into order. (The repairs to Hiroshima Castle were an actual piece of history, having been undertaken in 1619 by Lord Fukushima after damage from a flood; he was stripped of his lordship by the Shogun for this action). Thus, in our story, Tsugumo's lord comes to the attention of the Shogun, and the domain is seized, and Tsugumo and many thousands of samurai are set adrift to become ronin (literally "wave men") who had to seek their own way in life and secure whatever employment they could to survive. The lord is forced to commit seppuku, and some of his samurai would follow him in death (the practice of junshi, which was outlawed later by the Tokugawa). That action, too, had consequences, as it set the survivors of these samurai adrift without their family head, often at young ages.
The House of Ii, on the other hand, is one of those fortunate houses that was allied with Ieyasu and thus given the honor of being named fudai (major domain, given active roles in the Shogunate administration). To indict Ii in the manner Kobayashi has done is to indict the Tokugawa system itself, for the Ii are full beneficiaries and representatives of the ruling elite.
Kobayashi's style of visual blocking will be obvious in this film. The courtyard at which much of the exposition takes place is symmetrical and neat, the interiors spare. However, when it comes to the living space of Tsugumo the ronin and his house, the spare quality is darkened and cramped. We see Tsugumo receive an unexpected visitor while he is plying his typically ronin-practiced trade of crafting umbrellas. There is only enough room for Tsugumo, the skeletal unfinished parasol and the stooping visitor. The message is obvious. Although this is chambara, the mood is patient and the progression slow and formally stylized; those watchers who hunger for sword action will have to wait, but the wait and build-up is well worth it, making the denouement eminently satisfying and appropriate. Kobayashi has a framing device of the scribe for the House of Ii which encapsulates the event and makes an even more scathing statement about history and those who write it. This device is also used to great effect in Okamoto's "Samurai Assassin," but I think it has even more effect here as a punctuating end note. (That movie, interestingly, concerns one prominent member of the House of Ii as well.)
One aspect I have failed to mention is the score, which is spare and quite appropriate. Toru Takemitsu's music uses traditional Japanese instrumentation, achieving auditorily what Kobayashi achieves visually with his carefully symmetrical and spare sets. It is an auspicious collaboration; the two masters of their crafts blend in perfect harmony in this film.
I watched the Criterion version on DVD, and the interviews on the second DVD are most illuminating as well. Shinobu Hashimoto tells how he came up with the idea for the story; Tatsuya Nakadai reveals that they used real swords for the action and that he was rather frightened by this aspect. Tetsuro Tamba had previous training in sword arts, whereas this was Nakadai's first attempt in the genre (apart from Yojimbo a year earlier, but as we remember, he carried a gun in that one). (Also I don't think we can count his 2 second walk-by in Seven Samurai that you will miss if you blink....)We hear from an interview with Kobayashi about the reception of the film at Cannes, which was quite extreme, and the introduction to the film by Donald Richie, which appears on the first DVD, should not be viewed until later if you want to maintain the surprise. I don't think I've revealed too much here in this review, although I did want to clarify some historical and thematic notes.
Seppuku as a thematic element is thickly marbled in the fabric of the tale: Tsugumo's disenfranchised lord, other ronin in his situation, samurai who have failed their lords in important tasks--all these merit this "punishment," and yet it is counted an honor afforded only to the samurai class and those above. It is a means of control but also a special privilege; therein lies its uniqueness and its status as a sort of double-edged sword, so to speak. Just as with the sword itself, the way in which this ritual is utilized is key to whether a character or institution is honorable or not, and it can be used to make a powerful statement for good or ill. Prepare for a keen lesson and an unforgettable experience!
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