Kurosawa didn't like "The Magnificent Seven" as he found ludicrous the idea of mercenaries fighting bandits, no matter how noble Brynner and his peers were portrayed, they were closer to the Yakuza than the Samurais.
And maybe "Yojinbo" was the cinematic way to express these mixed feelings, as Sanjuro (Toshiro Mifune) was both a samurai and a mercenary, a true Japanese antihero. But while "Yojinbo" was set in a desolated town somewhere in the pre-Meiji Japan, its sequel "Sanjuro" takes place in a well-guarded town where the ancient feudal order was bound to prevail, only in the surface. "Yojinbo" had the antihero established, "Sanjuro" was Kurosawa's revisionist 'Western'.
And the revision starts with the directing. "Yojinbo" consisted mostly of exterior shots and a fair share of action, "Sanjuro" opens like a play: nine young men are exposing the situation, apparently, their uncle, the chamberlain refused to deliver the local lord their petition against corruption so they assumed he was the one pulling the strings. So they went to the superintendent Kikui, and his lieutenant Moruto (Tatsuday Nakada) promised to handle the situation. The scene is too solemn to work even by Kurosawa's standards; the Sensei is up to something.
When the young men are done talking, a voice emerges from the dark and Sanjuro appears, still the same nonchalant reluctant warrior who scratches his beard and yawns. He smells something fishy in the story and warns them against any hasty move. Sanjuro becomes their "director"' as the camera instinctively follows him whenever he moves, with the young men, it was all static like in a play, they're acting in the false sense of the word but cinema resurrects with Sanjuro, both a director and a heckler to these guys' shortsightedness. Sanjuro proves his worth very quickly when he spots the Superintendent's men's ambush under the commandment of Moruto.
The way they could hide is worthy of "Life of Brian" and when the nine guys emerge from the floor after the bad guys left plays almost like the seven dwarves' pointing their noses out of their beds. That's the mark of great sequels, keep the same protagonist, change the setting and if you can change the tone and keep it consistent, you've got a classic in your hand. Basically, those who act like straight men are the real clowns whereas Sanjuro is the real deal, which isn't saying too much, the closer to an honorable character is in fact Moruto, so close to Sanjuro's, he's his counterpart.
Now we don't need all the details, except that it results with the uncle's kidnapping and the main mission is to rescue him. The complexity isn't in the plot but in the way Sanjuro uses his tactical skills to anticipate the enemy's moves and come up with the right strategy: taking a prisoner, getting the servants drunk to free the chamberlain's wife and daughter, get the information of the uncle's whereabouts. It's all played like a chess game between the two enemies, which means there's not much room for action. Indeed, one of the most overused lines is "Stop! Wait!" there' a pattern whenever the nine guys decide to kick as, Sanjuro is never too far and kick theirs.
The film is full of such missed showdowns and misleading sight of horses galloping, It's like a constant anticlimax, as if Kurosawa didn't want to indulge to his old tricks, Sanjuro himself doesn't want to fight much because he doesn't have worthy enemies, guards are either too cowardly or clumsy. When just because of his protégés' carelessness, he ends up killing a whole army, he slaps them as if he displayed Kurosawa's own attitude toward violence. If we think the quick fight scenes reward our patience, then we missed the whole philosophy of Sanjuro, a piece of wisdom that came from an old and wise woman: the idea that the best swords stay in their sheath, this is not a condemnation of violence but of its needlessness.
In a film that makes you long for a spectacular confrontation between the two conflicting forces, who could anticipate that it would all depend on a bunch of camellias' dropped into a stream, it's so simple, so Japanese in its poetry and it says something interesting about Kurosawa, he can criticize his own style but he still does it with style. There's an awkward moment where a plan works and the young men engage in a happy dance and when realizing they must keep quiet, the music turns to jazz and it's hilarious in a cartoonish way. These kids represent the future while both Sanjuro and Moruto are a dying breed of men.
Even the uncle at his release is glad Sanjuro refused his offer because he wouldn't know what to do with this kind of men, maybe Kurosawa himself didn't know what to do with Samurais and might have had a problem with their perception from an immature perspective. The film ends with a duel though, as if we were owed one, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, the alter-ego wants a fight to be in peace with himself. Sanjuro refuses. Values are reversed, the 'evil' one wants to die honorably, and the good one would rather call it a day, but like in "Yojinbo", he can't escape his duty, and the fight is brief, gory, shocking, classic and controversial "from within".
And it wonderfully comes full circle with the beginning where Sanjuro was the spectator to the men's stupidity. The men cheer for Sanjuro who shouts back at them, they didn't get the point... and that might be Kurosawa's personal message about violence. Unfairly accused of betraying his culture by some Japanese press, the man was born in a Samurai family knew too well the dangerous appeal of misunderstood violence, and chose the perfect way to condemn it through a mix of gentle poetry and grotesque comedy, making the violent climax even more spectacular.
A bizarre masterpiece, a masterpiece nonetheless!
And maybe "Yojinbo" was the cinematic way to express these mixed feelings, as Sanjuro (Toshiro Mifune) was both a samurai and a mercenary, a true Japanese antihero. But while "Yojinbo" was set in a desolated town somewhere in the pre-Meiji Japan, its sequel "Sanjuro" takes place in a well-guarded town where the ancient feudal order was bound to prevail, only in the surface. "Yojinbo" had the antihero established, "Sanjuro" was Kurosawa's revisionist 'Western'.
And the revision starts with the directing. "Yojinbo" consisted mostly of exterior shots and a fair share of action, "Sanjuro" opens like a play: nine young men are exposing the situation, apparently, their uncle, the chamberlain refused to deliver the local lord their petition against corruption so they assumed he was the one pulling the strings. So they went to the superintendent Kikui, and his lieutenant Moruto (Tatsuday Nakada) promised to handle the situation. The scene is too solemn to work even by Kurosawa's standards; the Sensei is up to something.
When the young men are done talking, a voice emerges from the dark and Sanjuro appears, still the same nonchalant reluctant warrior who scratches his beard and yawns. He smells something fishy in the story and warns them against any hasty move. Sanjuro becomes their "director"' as the camera instinctively follows him whenever he moves, with the young men, it was all static like in a play, they're acting in the false sense of the word but cinema resurrects with Sanjuro, both a director and a heckler to these guys' shortsightedness. Sanjuro proves his worth very quickly when he spots the Superintendent's men's ambush under the commandment of Moruto.
The way they could hide is worthy of "Life of Brian" and when the nine guys emerge from the floor after the bad guys left plays almost like the seven dwarves' pointing their noses out of their beds. That's the mark of great sequels, keep the same protagonist, change the setting and if you can change the tone and keep it consistent, you've got a classic in your hand. Basically, those who act like straight men are the real clowns whereas Sanjuro is the real deal, which isn't saying too much, the closer to an honorable character is in fact Moruto, so close to Sanjuro's, he's his counterpart.
Now we don't need all the details, except that it results with the uncle's kidnapping and the main mission is to rescue him. The complexity isn't in the plot but in the way Sanjuro uses his tactical skills to anticipate the enemy's moves and come up with the right strategy: taking a prisoner, getting the servants drunk to free the chamberlain's wife and daughter, get the information of the uncle's whereabouts. It's all played like a chess game between the two enemies, which means there's not much room for action. Indeed, one of the most overused lines is "Stop! Wait!" there' a pattern whenever the nine guys decide to kick as, Sanjuro is never too far and kick theirs.
The film is full of such missed showdowns and misleading sight of horses galloping, It's like a constant anticlimax, as if Kurosawa didn't want to indulge to his old tricks, Sanjuro himself doesn't want to fight much because he doesn't have worthy enemies, guards are either too cowardly or clumsy. When just because of his protégés' carelessness, he ends up killing a whole army, he slaps them as if he displayed Kurosawa's own attitude toward violence. If we think the quick fight scenes reward our patience, then we missed the whole philosophy of Sanjuro, a piece of wisdom that came from an old and wise woman: the idea that the best swords stay in their sheath, this is not a condemnation of violence but of its needlessness.
In a film that makes you long for a spectacular confrontation between the two conflicting forces, who could anticipate that it would all depend on a bunch of camellias' dropped into a stream, it's so simple, so Japanese in its poetry and it says something interesting about Kurosawa, he can criticize his own style but he still does it with style. There's an awkward moment where a plan works and the young men engage in a happy dance and when realizing they must keep quiet, the music turns to jazz and it's hilarious in a cartoonish way. These kids represent the future while both Sanjuro and Moruto are a dying breed of men.
Even the uncle at his release is glad Sanjuro refused his offer because he wouldn't know what to do with this kind of men, maybe Kurosawa himself didn't know what to do with Samurais and might have had a problem with their perception from an immature perspective. The film ends with a duel though, as if we were owed one, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, the alter-ego wants a fight to be in peace with himself. Sanjuro refuses. Values are reversed, the 'evil' one wants to die honorably, and the good one would rather call it a day, but like in "Yojinbo", he can't escape his duty, and the fight is brief, gory, shocking, classic and controversial "from within".
And it wonderfully comes full circle with the beginning where Sanjuro was the spectator to the men's stupidity. The men cheer for Sanjuro who shouts back at them, they didn't get the point... and that might be Kurosawa's personal message about violence. Unfairly accused of betraying his culture by some Japanese press, the man was born in a Samurai family knew too well the dangerous appeal of misunderstood violence, and chose the perfect way to condemn it through a mix of gentle poetry and grotesque comedy, making the violent climax even more spectacular.
A bizarre masterpiece, a masterpiece nonetheless!