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At once a dark comedy, an action movie and a morality play, Yojimbo is one of Akira Kurosawa's greatest and most essential motion pictures (from a filmography beset with highly regarded flicks). Though Kurosawa is such a revered cinematic giant, I imagine his films seem uninteresting and daunting for casual film-watchers since they are old, foreign, in black and white, and have subtitles. But, like most of Kurosawa's movies, these factors should not dissuade people from watching Yojimbo. Though Kurosawa is predominantly recognised for the style and the deeper meanings of his films, Yojimbo is both fun and exciting, and by no means boring. Certainly, Yojimbo is far more accessible to the mainstream crowd than the works of, say, Ingmar Bergman or Federico Fellini. Kurosawa's gift lies in expertly blending artistry with excitement. Many of his movies can be rightfully labelled as action-adventure films; an arena not often explored by "serious" directors.
Yojimbo (which translates to "Bodyguard") is the story of Sanjuro (Mifune) - a mysterious ronin; a samurai without a master. After wandering into a desolate village, Sanjuro learns that two competing crime families are violently vying for control of it; crippling local business and causing great loss of life. The entire town has all but shut down as a consequence. Despite being told he should leave, the wily samurai opts to stay in the village in order to manipulate both sides to his advantage. Playing the crime families against each other with supreme confidence, the town is soon reduced to chaos as Sanjuro works to remove the criminal elements of the town for the sake of the innocent townsfolk who are uninterested in fighting.
Yojimbo's narrative and string of events are distinctly western-esque - after all, Kurosawa always said that his writing was influenced by American westerns and pulp fiction novels. Ironically, Yojimbo proved to be influential for both Japanese and American cinema - including westerns (the film was later unofficially remade as Sergio Leone's A Fistful of Dollars). Appropriately, Yojimbo is bursting with action and adventure, but it additionally contains enough dry humour for some to perceive it as a comedy. Throughout the film, a torrent of humour is cleverly generated from the gang's desire to purchase Sanjuro's services not exactly to be victorious, but because each side is terrified of meeting his sword. Watching the crime families scramble and sweat under Sanjuro's thumb is supremely humorous. Furthermore, a lot of the understated wit is derived from the way Sanjuro openly mocks the pettiness surrounding him. On one occasion, he provides a catalyst for a battle between the two sides before finding a high vantage point and watching the skirmish unfold with amusement.
Bestowed with an honorary Oscar during his autumnal years, Kurosawa possessed a genuine gift for shot composition. Working in vivid black and white, Kurosawa and cinematographer Kazuo Miyagawa captured the desolate village with an incredible balance of contrasts; transforming what could have been an average action film into a true work of art. Consequently, Yojimbo is visually breathtaking to watch as Sanjuro trumps through the hazy streets, passing businesses and homes affected by the warfare. Kurosawa was adept at pacing, as well. Yojimbo clocks in at 110 minutes, yet not a moment feels inessential. Kurosawa understood the necessity for character development and dramatic growth; managing to fulfil these requirements without murdering the pace or skimping on the action. And despite the film's ostensible art-house disposition, heavens me the sword fights and battles are astonishing. Invoking the essence of classic westerns in the vein of John Ford for its demeanour, Yojimbo is most likely Kurosawa's most enjoyable movie.
For Yojimbo, Kurosawa utterly annihilated samurai conventions. Through the eyes of a Japanese traditionalist, Sanjuro is everything a samurai is not: poor, threadbare, self-serving (or so it seems), sarcastic, and willing to fight for anyone in exchange for money and food. Kurosawa did not merely strip away old-school samurai characteristics...he sullied them. Nonetheless, Sanjuro is the epitome of the warrior class who has all of the important characteristics in spades: he is a cunning, rational, brave, skilled ronin with a sense of personal honour and a realist's view of the world around him. The criminals believe that depriving Sanjuro of his sword will render him helpless, but failed to recognise that Sanjuro is a force to be reckoned with even without a sword. Sanjuro is frighteningly intelligent as well. Although the feuding families do not realise it, he is their friend - he just exposed their stupidity and arrogance, as well as highlighting the futility of their feud.
With his calm demeanour and with his teeth often chomping on a toothpick, Sanjuro is the living picture of cool. The late great Japanese actor Toshirô Mifune played the part, and he is sublime. Mifune carries the film with a methodical, deep gaze, not to mention his inherent cool. Kurosawa and Mifune were frequent collaborators; they enjoyed a fruitful working relationship in the '50s and '60s, and made many of their best films together. Mifune was essentially the Robert De Niro to Kurosawa's Martin Scorsese (or should that be the other way around?). Fortunately, the cast members surrounding Mifune provide great support. In particular, Mifune's strongest dramatic scenes are with Takashi Shimura as Sanjuro's confidant. Also colourful and memorable are Isuzu Yamada, Daisuke Katô and Tatsuya Nakadai in their respective roles of Orin, the buffoonish Inokichi, and the dandy gunslinger Unosuke.
Yojimbo is not among Kurosawa's most thematically accomplished or narratively complex works, nor does it cause viewers to ponder issues. Nevertheless, it is certainly one of the filmmaker's most visually ravishing, exciting and enjoyable efforts, even if it is marred by a terribly overwrought musical score. Its excellence has even inspired two remakes to date: Sergio Leone's Spaghetti Western A Fistful of Dollars with Clint Eastwood in 1964, and Walter Hill's Last Man Standing with Bruce Willis in 1995. Neither are as brilliant as Yojimbo, which remains so original and funny; standing as a classic in the annals of filmmaking.
9.0/10
