The Hidden Blade

by Ari

Contemporary Japanese cinema is dominated by a visceral edge not remotely dared in America, and that edge is powerfully attractive and reputable to audiences in the states. Names like Takashi Miike, Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Takeshi Kitano, and Ryuhei Kitamura are best known and followed by most Asian film-lovers for good reason. The limits many of these filmmakers push is particularly extreme, unique, and exciting, but slightly overwhelming to the quieter, subtler, yet equally accomplished smaller films. Movies like Ping Pong, The Taste of Tea, and Yoji Yamada’s Twilight Samurai are unfortunately overlooked or simply unknown in this country. It’s a shame considering these films, among others, are exceptionally well-done and even more accessible to a wider audience. The market for foreign films in America is terribly limited, and it’s unfair that so many excellent movies are so difficult to track down. Yamada’s Twilight Samurai was a critical success when it was briefly released last year, but too few people actually saw it beyond the more ardent cineastes. Twilight Samurai was a moving drama more interested in character development than explosive swordplay and carnage. With his follow-up, The Hidden Blade, Yamada proves that his veteran heartfelt sensibilities are just as exciting as any other style of Japanese filmmaking, and hopefully a larger, informed American audience will appreciate it now that it’s available on dvd.

The Hidden Blade is an old-fashioned samurai drama extremely reminiscent of its predecessor, yet surprisingly more elegant and potent. Yamada follows the exact same structure and tone of Twilight Samurai, improving on what was already successful. Since he already established a solid formula for telling a deeply personal story set against an epic backdrop, he might as well continue to utilize it for his thematic purposes. If you’ve seen Twilight Samurai, you already know much about The Hidden Blade. The characters are similar, the emotion is honest and strong, and the cultural comments are significant. Yamada quietly builds a memorable story of romance, honor, deception, and tragedy; beautifully told during a changing era in Japanese history.

Munezo Katagiri (Masatoshi Nagase aka Maiku Hama) is a low-ranking samurai that serves his duty for his lord and attends his home and family. His younger sister is recently married to his friend and fellow samurai, and the woman he loves, Kie (Takako Matsu), marries into a merchant family, keeping him from personal attachment. Katagiri is loyal and honest, never relying on his sword to settle matters even though he’s been sufficiently trained. At the outset of the film, he and his brother-in-law watch their samurai friend, Hazama (Yukiyoshi Ozawa), the deadliest swordsman of their clan, set off to Edo to serve their lord. After a few months pass, Katagiri is informed that Kie, who used to be a servant in his house as a child, is dying of sickness. Distressed by this troubling news, he takes off for her new home where he discovers the horrific abuse her family has inflicted upon her. Defying his principles as a samurai, he rescues Kie from her torturous situation and insists that she stay with him as a worker. This is uncommon for a samurai, and causes controversy in their town. Yamada keeps the focus on the friendship between these two shy and sweet characters for a good portion of the film, developing a subtle, engaging, and romantic relationship.

In the meantime, Japan is undergoing a significant change. The way of the samurai is quickly becoming overwhelmed by new artillery from the west. Cannons and guns are replacing swords and honor. Samurai ethics are being torn apart by the powerful possibilities of these technological terrors. Katagiri is doing his best to adjust to western sensibilities, but his loyalty to Japanese honor is what guides him and is ultimately tested when his friend Hazama returns from Edo as a traitor and prisoner. Hazama is charged with betrayal by their nasty senior retainer (Ken Ogata aka Mishima) and the very code and glory of samurai principles is put into question.

Yoji Yamada’s vision reminds me of Hiroshi Inagaki. Like Inagaki, his samurai adventures are more interested in the personal struggle of each character rather than piling up sliced bodies. And that’s not to say The Hidden Blade (or Inagaki’s films) have no violence. Yamada builds an almost nervous intensity during the final duel. It’s quick, emotional, and grisly. The entire film carries an emotional weight that gets heavier and heavier as it progresses. Everything about the story and characters is absorbing, and Yamada makes sure the narrative is smooth, concise, and compelling. Technical credits are superb. The cinematography is beautiful, just like Twilight Samurai.

The Hidden Blade is a great film.