by snappybex
Last night, while I was working on some posts, I had on TCM, which was having an Akira Kurosawa festival. So I got to watch both Yojimbo and Sanjuro back to back. The original “man with no name” movies whose remakes shot Clint Eastwood to stardom.
Two of my favorites from one of my favorite directors. Kurosawa was always in complete control of what happened in any frame, whether it was leaves blowing across the street or a scene in the distance framed by an open doorway.
Both films are played for comedic effect, even though there are very serious aspects to the narratives of each. They make quite an amazing pair, especially when seen right after each other.
There are a couple of iconic scenes in each – one that starts the narrative in Yojimbo and one that ends the narrative in Sanjuro – that had a real effect when combining the two movies.
In the first movie, the character we come to know as Kuwabatake Sanjuro (which literally means thirty-year-old Mulberry Field) comes upon two paths along a road. In order to decide which road to take, he picks up a random stick, tosses it blindly in the air, and then travels along the direction it indicates.
So, sheer chance takes him to a town, one where his actions not only result in the death of many bad guys but where his one unselfish act, the one that fits the sorts of heroes we expect, results in him getting the living crap beat out of him.
And Kurosawa makes sure we know how beat up he is, with bloody face and swollen eyes. This is no heroically beat up guy by any stretch of the imagination. It is almost believeable that Kurosawa actually had the actor, Toshiro Mifube, beat up.
In the second movie, the same character, who now calls himself Tsubaki Sanjūrō (thirty-year old Camellia Tree), finds himself spending the whole movie being forced to work on a good deed due to the youthful incompetence of a group of nine samurai. At the end of the movie, he must fight his primary antagonist even though he does not want to.
The resulting fight is anti-climactic in its extent but absolutely mesmerizing in its presentation. It is the best duel in cinema.
The men stand within arms length of each other. One could reach out and strike the other. But neither does. For over 25 seconds!
That is right. Neither man moves at all. Here we have a motion picture with no movement. We start feeling tense after 10 seconds. At 15 we are afraid sheer destruction will be unloaded at any seconds. By 20 we are almost screaming from the tension.
Then, in a flash of action, a rapid movement of blades and a huge gout of blood, it is over. If the stare off lasted perhaps 600 frames, the duel might be 12.
Now, I have seen this duel before and remembered its iconic gush of blood from the loser. However, one thing had always puzzled me – how did Sanjuro draw his sword out the scabbard and kill his opponent so fast? It was just there in his hand on the other side of the dying man’s body.
I always thought it was some sort of cinematic trick. That there was a hidden jump cut.
But last night, I was able rewind and watch it again and again. No jump cut, just some really creative sword play by the actor Mifune.
Again, both men are close enough to touch so how can they pull out a 4 foot sword and attack the other without backing away? Both men are right handed and have the sword at their left side.
The loser draws his sword as anyone would – right hand across the body to the hilt and pull forward. This puts the blade already past Sanjuro’s body, meaning that the attacker would have to take some more time and pull back the blade to attack.
Sanjuro does something entirely different – he grabs the hilt with his left hand and pulls it straight out. He kills his opponent on the initial drawing of the blade.
Doing this is faster but gains him little ability to strike with a heavy blow. Try it. Stand arm’s length from a wall and imagine drawing up with the sword pointing down in your left hand.
Hard to see generating a killing blow by just raising the sword from the scabbard with the left hand.
But, to get the strength to produce a killing blow, Sanjuro places his right hand on the blade and uses it to accelerate the sword up and pushing it across, slicing deeply into the losing fighter.
Thus he gains both time and strength by a very creative use of the sword, helping explain just why he is a force of nature when it comes to sword play.
And what a testament to Mifune’s ability. Watching this move, it makes absolute sense and explains why he is able to kill so fast. Such creativity displayed in a split second. What we expect from Kurosawa and his frequent collaborator, Mifune.