film

Rapid Fire Reviews #20 A Mishmash of Movies!

After the Holidays I settled into a steady stream of random films, we may still be in the midst of a global pandemic- but some things never change, and January is still the dumping grounds of all major movie studios. Thus, I’ve taken to the Criterion Collection for a good chunk of the month’s film watching. In fact, of the ten films listed below, only one isn’t from the collection. It’s also the newest film to date by a wide margin, with only a streaming exclusive documentary getting near it. These films have no connective tissue other than the fact that I’d never seen them before and needed to fill in some of my film history gaps. Hopefully you’ll find something worthy of a watch for you, I enjoyed most of the following films.

Vertigo (1958)

Written by Alec Coppel and Samuel A. Taylor, based on the novel by Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac, and directed by Alfred Hitchcock, “Vertigo” is one of Hitchcock’s most well known thrillers of the 1950’s. “Vertigo” deals with obsession, fear of heights as the title implies, and an amalgamation of other more burrowing fears that emerge from our main character over the course of the film. While this one doesn’t rank as my favorite Hitchcock film that I’ve seen so far, it’s still pretty damn good. James Stewart stars as Scottie, a detective in San Francisco that’s retired early after a harrowing rooftop chase. In the opening scene Scottie’s in pursuit of a criminal on foot with another officer, but looses his balance and barely holds onto the ledge, the other officer attempts to reach out and save him- but falls to his death instead. This opener sets the tone for the rest of the film. Scottie carries his guilt with him, but soldiers on. An old colleague of Scottie’s calls him up after he’s mostly recovered from injuries related to the opening scene. Gavin Elster (Tom Helmore) has a proposition for Scottie, follow his wife Madeleine (Kim Novak) and try to see what she’s up to while he’s at work and cannot keep track of her. He quickly follows up the request with a waving away of the normal assumptions, not a story of infidelity but of potential madness? Gavin is beginning to believe that a ghostly spirit of one of Madeleine’s ancestors is possessing her, perhaps towards an untimely demise? So Scottie follows Madeleine, but the mystery only becomes more opaque as he collects information, and curiously, he begins to fall for her. I won’t reveal the twist of the film, granted it’s been over sixty years since it’s release but just in case you haven’t seen it as I hadn’t until just recently, it’s a good one that’s worth preserving for yourself. Hitchcock here utilizes brilliantly bold color schemes that further instill the dreamlike atmosphere of Scottie’s dilemma. His camera work is cerebral and inventive while keeping audiences guessing as to what comes next, it’s a real treat. I highly recommend this one, it’s definitely among the director’s best works.

Topaz (1969)

Written by Samuel A. Taylor, based on the novel by Leon Uris, and directed by Alfred Hitchcock, “Topaz” is a film that feels like Alfred Hitchcock’s answer to the popularity of the James Bond franchise. This Cold War spy thriller may be associated with the famed director’s “creative decline” but I think that depends on your disposition for cinema overall- and the context of Hitchcock’s time at Universal studios at this time as well. The director was boxed in by Universal’s parameters of acceptable violence and restrained sexuality at the box office, given the films he was attempting to make at the time versus what he was pushed toward adapting. I have a lot of ground to cover with Hitchcock yet, but getting to the later period of his work and understanding the position he was in as an auteur was a fascinating detour. This isn’t a bad film, it’s just nowhere near as good as Hitchcock’s best work, not an easy task to outdo yourself constantly and consistently when you’ve got hits like “Psycho”, “Vertigo”, and “North by Northwest” in your oeuvre. The plot of the film is focused on the ramifications of a Russian spy ring that has infiltrated the inner circle of Higher French Government, stealing NATO secrets and spreading disorganization across the Atlantic. While the film overall lacks a certain tension that usually runs throughout a Hitchcock thriller, there are certain sequences that showcase the British director’s firm grasp of how taut a scene can be. The opening sequence of Russian family escaping Soviet boogeymen in a ceramic shop in Copenhagen with the help of CIA operatives is certainly thrilling and memorable. As was the later scene in New York when our main character, French Spy Andre Devereaux (Frederick Stafford), enlists the help of another French colleague in Harlem to do some intelligence gathering when a group of Cuban revolutionaries are in town. I ended up watching the two hours and five minutes cut of the film with the ending that implied the villain’s death by suicide. Apparently there were multiple endings based on audience reception and the studio’s reticence towards an ending the French Government would not accept for distribution purposes and aptitude for eyeing profits over quality. While not the best Hitchcock film, it’s certainly watchable and I give it a hearty recommendation.

Rodan (1956)

Written by Takeshi Kimura and Takeo Murata, based on a story by Ken Kuronuma, and directed by Ishirô Honda, “Rodan” is the second Kaiju character from Toho studios, and the first Kaiju movie to be filmed in color! If you’re familiar with the Kaiju genre of films from Japan, a lot of the usual story beats and themes are present here as well. Presented alongside the original “Godzilla” and the standalone “Mothra” flick, “Rodan” excels in it’s own right as an entertaining story about gargantuan monsters besieging humanity. In a small mining town in southern Japan, two miners go missing. It’s well known that these two had been quarreling for some time. After the mines get flooded and one of the miners’ lifeless body is found torn to shreds, it’s not long before large burrowing insects make their way to the surface and cause more chaos forcing the mining community to flee the area. It’s later revealed that the insects were disturbed from their earthly bungalows by the mining company, and when we get the reveal of Rodan’s birth we discover that it’s nuclear testing that’s rocked the giant Pteranodon’s egg, causing the winged creature to burst forth in an underground cavern. This is witnessed by the other lost miner that had been swept away by the flooded mineshafts. The filmmakers wisely had large larva insect monsters attacking the miners early on, which gives Rodan’s birth excellent scale as the awakened Kaiju snatches up the comparatively smaller creatures to snack on. After this point the film ditches the small scale storytelling as Rodan stretches it’s wings and takes flight across the waters surrounding Japan. It isn’t long before the military are getting reports of an unidentified flying object flying at supersonic speeds all across the hemisphere. Reports of British airliners going down, buildings being torn asunder by screaming winds in China, the Philippines, and even Korea- all within mere minutes of each other. Eventually the Military forms a plan to drive Rodan to the base of Mount Aso, an active Volcano, and bury it in rubble from an assault of missiles. They also discover, quite late into the game, that there is a second Rodan that follows the first to the Mount Aso. The Military follows through with their plans but accidentally trigger an eruption from the Volcano. This works out in their favor though when the first Rodan is hit in the wing by the flying lava. The second Rodan dives into the lava, not being able to bear life without a mate. The final images in the film are kind of brutal for the Kaiju genre, especially knowing the kid friendly route that Toho studios would take a decade later. End Credits hit as the lifeless bodies of the Rodans are melting into nothingness from the lava. This one is just different enough from it’s predecessors and future titles in the Kaiju genre to make it a fun detour in an otherwise Godzilla heavy sub-genre. Recommended, but especially for monster movie fans the world over.

*For more Monster Movie goodness, check out my ranking of the entire Showa era of Godzilla films over at Films Fatale:

https://www.filmsfatale.com/blog/2021/9/27/ranked-the-showa-era-godzilla-movies-1954-1975?rq=Godzilla

Branded to Kill (1967)

Written by Hachiro Guryu, Mitsutoshi Ishigami, Takeo Kimura, Chûsei Sone, and Atsushi Yamatoya, and directed by Seijun Suzuki, “Branded to Kill” is supremely strange among the legion of Yakuza gangster films. It’s so weird and wild in fact that the Seijun Suzuki was immediately fired from the studio after submitting this oddball flick. It’s plot is fairly straightforward, but the secret spice lies in it’s execution. The main plot point is that a hitman goes on the run after botching a hit and unintentionally killing the wrong person. There’s so much more that happens beyond that though. Goro Hanada (Joe Shishido) is the third ranked Hitman in Japan, there’s a few scenes of Goro successfully murdering his targets in strange ways, usually with even weirder exit strategies, to drive that point home early on. Goro is hired by Misako Nakajô (Annu Mari), a woman obsessed with death, who wants a foreigner killed. Goro immediately falls head over heels for the uninterested Misako, she eagerly awaits her own death as well, but when the time comes to kill his target, a butterfly lands in front of the scope and he misses- killing an innocent bystander. After this transgression the number one ranked hitman in Japan sets his eyes on Goro- for he has offended the guild’s rules, and the two become entangled in a life or death cat-and-mouse scenario. The film is very experimental in nature, with absurdist story logic, animated inserts occasionally, heaps of violence and sex, and a surreal sense of time and place. There are double crosses (and I believe triple crosses if I’m remembering correctly), and everything about the production is filled with unique choices. The sound design, for example, is incredibly inventive for the time signaling certain characters without musical cues. There’s also a lot of random sex within the love triangle of Goro, Misako, and his wife, Mami Hanada (Mariko Ogawa). Goro’s also, distinctively, got a fetish for the smell of freshly boiled rice. Yep, this one’s weird, but if you’re into the history of Yakuza films from Japan, or just gangster style crime movies to a degree- it’s worth a watch. Strange indeed, but a worthwhile endeavor!

Pickpocket (1959)

Written and directed by Robert Bresson, “Pickpocket” is a stripped bare look into the life of a pickpocket, and what makes him tick. I’ll be honest, while I was impressed with several scenes showcasing the technical precision of effective pickpockets in action on heavily crowded streets, or later on a train with multiple participants- the majority of the film left me wanting. The main character of the story at hand is Michel (Martin LaSalle), a lonely type who becomes less interesting once he espouses his thief’s philosophy. In short, he essentially believes that those who take what they want when they want it are superior beings who should be respected as such. Okay, not only do I not buy his philosophy, but the way the performances are directed even Michel feels as though he’s not really in it for the ideology, but rather that it’s just something to say to feel powerful when people ask about it. I know the story is supposed to be about redemption through love, but the ending felt unrealistic for the character as he’s been shown to us. I suppose if it’s considered by many to be great, it probably is on some level- but other than the technically impressive scenes of the illicit act itself, I could care less. Not recommended from me, but feel free to give it a shot and see whether or not the film works for you.

5 Card Stud (1968)

Written by Marguerite Roberts, based on the novel by Ray Gaulden, and directed by Henry Hathaway, “5 Card Stud” is a thoroughly entertaining old school Western. Maybe it’s because I was initially becoming more acquainted with films and filmmakers through Westerns as a teenager that I always find the technicolor standard of Westerns in the 50’s 60’s and 70’s as something familiar and comfortable. That’s the case with this film as well. Even though it was a first time watch for me, the rhythms of the old west were instantly recognizable, and heartily welcomed. Here Dean Martin stars as the lead of the film in Van Morgan, a restrained, yet genial gambler who’s the only voice of reason once a cheatin’ cardshark is revealed among his usual card group. The other players have their hearts set on brutal vengeance though, and immediately drag the sorry newcomer out of town and hoist him up high. After the dust settles, one by one the members of that card game start mysteriously showin’ up dead. As the gamblers try to reckon with which card player is the killer among them, a new preacher comes to town after the gold rush starts. Rev Rudd (Robert Mitchum) has a hellfire and brimstone take on his sermons, short, sweet, and heavy on accusing the townsfolk of being derelict sinners. He’s also got a twitchy trigger finger, he’s prone to punctuating his points with bullets. The film isn’t a masterpiece by any means, but it’s a well made, professional, movie. It’s also incredibly entertaining thanks to the two leads in Martin and Mitchum, though the cast surrounding them isn’t too far off. Roddy McDowall as Nick Evers is a fun, if a bit mustache twirling at times, villainous role. Henry Hathaway had already filmed a few action Westerns by this time and knew the right ingredients for the recipe. Shootouts, an ensuing mystery, barroom brawls, and swaggering gunslingers with a penchant for walloping one-liners. This one’s a good time, and I highly recommend it.

Copshop (2021)

Written by Kurt McLeod and Joe Carnahan, from a story by Mark Williams, and directed by Carnahan, “Copshop” is a simple but explosively fun action thriller. This sort of film doesn’t get made all that often anymore. It’s a small, nasty, one-location shootout that evolves throughout the runtime. The hook of the film is that con artist Teddy Murretto (Frank Grillo) has a hit put out on him, so he punches a small town cop and gets tossed in their holding cell for the night. Unfortunately for him, a grumbly and cerebral, Gerard Butler appears in the cell across from him as the first hitman to find Murretto’s hiding spot. One of the best roles in the film also goes to Alexis Louder as the rookie cop on the force, Valerie Young. She holds her own against some darkly violent characters and pursues justice as best she can amongst the chaos. The surprisingly excellent role of secondary Hitman, Anthony Lamb portrayed by Toby Huss, is the shot of adrenaline that the film needed. Lamb’s skill as a Hitman is immediately showcased in his own dark and comic way, and I absolutely adored this performance. Huss plays the character as if he were a merge between the Joker and the Punisher from the big two comic publishers. He’s aces with a gun, but absolutely off his rocker and having a great time doing it. The whole film is a rough and tumble, guns-a-blazing, survival of the luckiest crackshot style romp, and I loved it. If you’re looking for a dark comedy action thriller with loads of style, Carnahan has just the film for you, and it comes highly recommended from me.

No Way Out (1950)

Written by Lesser Samuels, Philip Yordan, and Joseph L. Mankiewicz, and directed by Mankiewicz, “No Way Out” is a film about racial tensions in America and how quickly things can unravel when wrong-headed assumptions take root. After Sidney Poitier’s recent passing, I made it a point to go back and get into some of his more well known films. I have a ways to go yet, but I figured why not start closer to his beginnings than his end. Poitier stars as Dr. Brooks, one of only a few Black Doctors in the Hospital and wider city. His first day on the job brings him face to face with the very real racism of the day (We’ve gotten better since then but clearly have a looooooong ways to go) in two young white men who’ve robbed a gas station, gotten shot and caught. These scoundrels are the Biddle brothers, Ray (Richard Widmark) and George (Harry Bellaver). George seems to be worse off than his scheming loudmouth brother, and when Dr. Brooks attempts a spinal tap to assess the cause of George’s deeper pain, Ray objects. It isn’t long after this that George dies, and Ray accuses Dr. Brooks of intentionally killing him. Filled with indignant rage and a lost heart, Ray continues to make matters worse for Dr. Brooks when the Doctor asks to have an autopsy to assess what went wrong. Ray also fuels the flames of racial tensions in the area when he gets his side of the story out to the low income white community of Beaver Canal through a lip reading friend. Things escalate from there, but the film does a decent enough job for it’s time when showcasing the institutional racism and the social structures that could foster such hatred throughout the city. Eventually Dr. Brooks turns himself in amongst a literal race riot with tempers raging about, a turn that would require the Hospital to perform an autopsy which ultimately proves Dr. Brooks right. George did have a tumor that exacerbated his gunshot wounds to an untimely death. The film is most certainly of it’s time, but it attempts to rise above and tell a story about perceived assumptions and how the truth must be sought after, not merely assumed. It’s worth the watch folks!

King of New York (1990)

Written by Nicholas St. John and directed by Abel Ferrara, “King of New York” is a crime drama that doesn’t exactly know what it wants to be- other than “Cool”. The film has it’s fair share of fun action beats and snarling gangster criminals that pop and sizzle with memorable performances. That’s mostly due to Laurence Fishburne and Christopher Walken though. Everyone else is just kinda there. Giancarlo Esposito has a minor role, but they don’t give him anything to do within it. Walken’s role as Frank White, a big time drug kingpin who is released from prison in the film’s opening, is the anchor of the story as White and his men go about trying to take a bigger slice of New York City while also attempting to give back to the community through funneling drug money into children’s hospitals and helping the poor more generally. The film lacks precision, as the plot drunkenly wanders from cliché to cliché, and at times the gunfights and character work can be fun, but it never feels in service of the story. Moderately recommended.

The Ghost of Peter Sellers (2018)

“The Ghost of Peter Sellers” was directed by Peter Medak. This documentary was a bit underwhelming if I’m being honest. It follows the production of the 1973 pirate comedy, “Ghost in the Noonday Sun”- which Peter Medak himself directed. The doc details all of the aspects of this doomed film production, from the context of pre-production to the unraveling that would come to take place late in the production. There are some interesting bits about Peter Sellers in general, and the idea of the film, but after awhile all of the ingredients seem to pile up to a fairly clear answer as to why this film didn’t work out, all while Medak is constantly venting his frustrations some forty-five years later. The director himself didn’t have a handle on the production, didn’t know the details of what he was trying to do, and had a flimsy and wandering script in which Medak simply decided to put all of his faith in the project’s success in Sellers worldwide comedic fame. Sellers at the time had just been dumped by his girlfriend Liza Minelli, this was just after his third wife had divorced him, and was entering the project in a dark state. Hardly a good footing to begin with for your major star. After a few modern scenes with Medak wandering around old shooting locations in Cyprus with one of his fellow producers of “Ghost”, one gets the impression that Medak was easily one of the major inhibitors of the project. As the director he should have had a much stronger grasp of the story, the details of the production, and to be perfectly honest, he should have better assessed his own skills as a director for such a project. He gives off the air of a stuffy history professor, someone that maybe should not have attempted a comedy. There are some bits that are worth seeing, but more often than not the doc is repetitive therapy for the director with Medak equally cursing and praising Peter Sellers, among the many other issues of the production. It was a bit dour and depressing if I’m being honest. Barely recommended.

*I’ve continued to write film criticism articles over at Films Fatale as well, here are a couple of my most recent articles from there. Show them some love and check out what Films Fatale has to offer!

https://www.filmsfatale.com/blog/2021/12/31/the-best-films-of-2021-by-cameron-geiser?rq=Cameron%20Geiser

https://www.filmsfatale.com/blog/2022/1/14/22-movies-to-see-in-2022?rq=Cameron%20Geiser

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Old School Review: “Le Samouraï” (1967)

Written by Georges Pellegrin and Jean-Pierre Melville, and directed by Melville, “Le Samouraï” is another dip into the criminal world of Paris, though this time the auteur filmmaker has outdone himself and transcended the genre he helped to mold in decades prior. The first ten minutes (or so) of this film are devoid of dialogue, and masterfully precise down from the actions performed onscreen to the shots, editing, and tension building intensity as we watch our silent Samouraï rise from bed and head outside to steal a car right off the street. Just after the opening credits, which play over our Samouraï smoking in bed, a quote appears, “There is no solitude greater than that of the Samurai. Unless it be that of a tiger in the jungle… perhaps…” and although it is ascribed to the Bushidō Code, it was actually an invention of Melville’s. Beyond the accuracy of the quote’s origin, the atmosphere that it conjures is the perfect set-up for the film that is to follow.

After the Samouraï has stolen a car off the street, he heads to a garage just down a side street whose door slides down right after he enters. The Samouraï gets out and stands off to the side, smoking, while the only other man in the garage tends to those pesky license plates. The familiarity and relaxed gestures between the men suggests that this same scenario has played out many times before, still without any dialogue though. After the mechanic has swapped out new license plates, he hands the Samouraï some papers, and our wordless warrior extends his hand- not for a handshake though, as the mechanic reaches into another drawer and pulls out a pistol and places it in the Samouraï’s hand. He then dispenses a wad of money for the mechanic and drives off. This whole sequence is the perfect example of why this movie works so well- it stands out in the execution. If it were any other director running the show, that scene would never have the odd sense of tension that runs alongside the curiosity of the moment. Melville’s pared down and condensed all of the skills he acquired through his previous tough guy noir films and streamlined them into a film that asks you to pay attention to the actions onscreen, for they hold the most narrative weight here. The whole first act is about our Samouraï taking every proactive and methodical step in his code of conduct to assure a clean getaway. He’s busy setting up alibis all over town in preparation for his night. He goes to Jane Lagrange’s (Nathalie Delon) apartment, his lover who promises to vouch for him if the cops come questioning, which is also where we finally get a name for our Samouraï, Jef Costello (Alain Delon). Costello also stops at a game of cards to see if they’ll be awake all night, which they will, so he plans to arrive back later in the dead of night. At this point, we still don’t know what Costello’s goal is, though if the audience is familiar with the director’s work, we can only guess that it is a criminal act of some sort. We get our answer when Costello waltzes into a nightclub and into a back room where he’s face to face with a man behind a desk who asks “Who are you?” Costello responds, “It doesn’t matter.“- perplexed the man then asks, “What do you want?” and Costello responds emotionlessly, “To kill you.” Which he does in that instant while the club’s Pianist (Cathy Rosier) is playfully clanging away on the keys.

Unfortunately for Costello, he was spotted by roughly five witnesses on his escape from the nightclub. He’s brought in for the lineup with the French Police canvassing entire neighborhoods for the killer. What follows is an intense few scenes where the Police Comissioner (François Périer) interrogates the amassed subjects thoroughly. He’s brought in the exact five witnesses that saw Costello leaving the nightclub, though only two believe he’s the culprit. Costello sits through some intensive questioning while the comissioner’s men contact his alibi, Jane, and bring both her and her older, wealthy, partner Wiener (Michel Boisrond) in to the station. Luckily, Costello had planned for this and had made sure that he was seen by Wiener as he was exiting Jane’s apartment earlier in the night at the right time. After both Wiener correctly picks Costello out from a crowd of similarly dressed suspects, and the Pianist (who definitely saw him at the scene of the crime) denies that he’s the killer she saw, the Samouraï is allowed to go.

Even though the Police Comissioner doesn’t have any proof that Costello did anything wrong, he has a gut instinct that the eternally poker-faced Costello is lying. He sends a few men to tail him as he personally goes after Jane, who supported Costello’s alibi, and in a rather slimey scene the Comissioner has a team of men turn her apartment upside down and leaves her with a threatening demeanor. Meanwhile, half the police force tails Costello in an entertaining cat-and-mouse chase scene throughout the Subway Metro. After Costello successfully evades the police he meets with a middle-man from his, let’s call it an Assassin’s Guild, to get paid and to assure his superiors that his being brought in for questioning meant nothing. However, the powers-that-be had already decided that this series of events deemed Costello unfit for their purposes and had a hired gun shoot him from afar during the meeting. Amid the chaos, Costello retreats and sees to his wounds while he becomes the most wanted man in Paris. After he heals a bit, he goes to the nightclub and stares down the Pianist from the bar. While Costello’s facial expression rarely changes in any tangible way, we must assume that his dilemma is one of confusion, perplexed by the Pianist’s choice not to turn him in when questioned by the Comissioner. There’s a short scene where he rides with her to her home and oddly enough, she seems to be unafraid of him despite knowing he’s a killer. He explains his dilemma to her, a stranger, who is probably the only person he could open up to. Later, when he returns home he’s met by a hidden intruder, his contact in the earlier botched meeting. The guild has changed its’ mind after some consideration and the middle-man offers Costello two million francs and another job. When he doesn’t answer, the middle-man inquires, “Nothing to say?” to which Costello replies, “Not with a gun on me.” smirking, the middle-man prods, “Is that a principle?” Face unchanging, Costello remarks, “A habit.” Which prompts the mediator to put his gun away and one of the coolest beats in the film is concluded with an explosion of action as Costello immediately jabs the intruder square in the face and steals his gun. Having turned the tables, he prompts the mediator to give up the address of his boss, Olivier Rey (Jean-Pierre Posier).

So, I may have over indulged in this review in plot description, but it’s mainly because I just adored the film if I’m being honest with you. Though it is less about the things that happened, and more about how these things came to pass. I’ll leave the ending out of this one for you to discover and enjoy, but admittedly I got fairly close to the end in this review. What struck me about this film is how silent it was. This was an incredibly effective use of silence, it only served to strengthen the otherworldliness that permeates the film. From the desaturated color palatte to the dreamlike presentation of people and events, Melville crafted an incredibly unique neo-noir here that probably inspired countless characters and ideas throughout the decades. I could easily see the world of “John Wick” inspired by this film, or something like the stillness of Alain Delon’s performance of Jef Costello being a point of inspiration for Brad Pitt’s Roy McBride in “Ad Astra”. Who knows how much influence the film really had over the years, but what I do know is that this film exceeded my expectations, and is a new favorite of mine. Check it out if you can!

Final Score: 1 Bird

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25 days of Zatoichi The Blind Swordsman: #17 Zatoichi Challenged (1967)

Writer/Director: Ryozo Kasahara (2nd film)/ Kenji Misumi (4th film)

Cinematographer: Chikashi Makiura (He worked on a number of Zatoichi films and all of the films that Kenji Misumi directed in the Lone Wolf and Cub series as well. I felt the need to point his name out in this review as the film is a knockout visually, and that deserves credit)

Summary: Once again Zatoichi is the guardian of a small child- but this time it’s a six year old that can walk and talk back to him. If you enjoyed “Fight, Zatoichi, Fight!”, then I’d imagine you’ll likely love this entry in the Zatoichi canon. It’s basically an upgraded version of Kenji Misumi’s earlier work, though “Fight!” had a more carefree Zatoichi in his demeanor and how he reacted to people and the world around him. Now, nine films later, Zatoichi’s a bit more apt to be somewhat curmudgeonly. Granted, he’s been through a lot in that time and seen the range of humanity from true, noble, and kind to hypocritical, greedy, and self serving. Zatoichi’s journey begins when he arrives at a crowded inn and stays with a sickly mother and her young child. When the mother unceremoniously dies in Zatoichi’s arms, it’s up to him to deliver the child to the father he never knew. On his journey to the father’s hometown, Zatoichi and Ryota encounter a mysterious ronin-like figure on several occasions, one that reveals nothing about himself or his mission, but delights in getting details from Zatoichi several times. Neither knew that they would end up fighting to the death over Ryota’s father, Shokichi’s (Takao Ito), life. Once Zatoichi finds evidence of Shokichi’s location, he’s surprised to find that Shokichi isn’t simply neglecting his child (he didn’t even know he had fathered a child), or trying to further his own selfish goals. Because Shokichi has artistic talent, he’s been forced to pay off his gambling debts by painting illegal erotica- which carries a heavy fine in this period of Japan’s history.

Notably, this film showcases real skill when it comes to the art of filmmaking. The film production crafted beautiful cinematography, gorgeous compositions, bold colors, and an excellent combination of wide landscape shots and intense close-ups. There’s also the surprise sprinkling of two musical sequences in which melodramatic vocals play over a couple of traveling montages. Kenji Misumi really pulled some beautiful performances out of his actors this time, notably, in smaller moments that allow time for the characters to process, react, and even show their true feelings about the situation at hand a few times which feels revelatory for this series. This turned out to be my favorite Zatoichi film, so far, and I’m happy to be proven wrong in the near future.

My favorite part: Besides the gorgeous cinematography by Chikashi Makiura and excellent direction from Kenji Misumi, my favorite part of this film was the villain. From the opening scene of the film until the end battle, he’s wisely spread around the plot with his true intentions only known far into the story. After Zatoichi slays several combatants in the opening scene, Akazuka (Jushiro Konoe) witnesses the blind swordsman’s skill and heartily compliments him. Zatoichi happens to bump into him on several occasions well before they cross blades, where they respect each other’s skill and are cordial enough with each other. Akazuka may seem like the usual ronin figures that accompany a lot of these films, but he’s got stone cold conviction and he’s a far more dangerous combatant than most of Zatoichi’s enemies. I had heard that this film had one of the best Samurai fight scenes of all time, and I have to say that I was impressed. It was visceral, beautifully shot against falling snow, and it was the first real time I had any real concern for Zatoichi in a fight. The way story and deep character moments are inserted into the fight, I mean, you can’t get much better than that.

Why it’s great: This film is the epitome of why the blind swordsman concept works. “Zatoichi Challenged”, out of the films in the series that I have seen this far, is the best example of the character and the film series as a whole. Everything about this film is perfect for it’s aim. If you don’t enjoy this film, you probably won’t find much else in the series that works for you.

Final Score: 1 AMAZING Samurai Fight

*For fun, check out this re:View by Red Letter Media in which they analyze this Rutger Hauer starring movie that was supposedly a loose adaption of “Zatoichi Challenged”:

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25 days of Zatoichi The Blind Swordsman: #16 Zatoichi The Outlaw (1967)

Writer/Director: Kiyokata Saruwaka, Takehiro Nakajima, & Koji Matsumoto/ Satsuo Yamamoto

Summary: Get ready, because “Zatoichi The Outlaw” is a film that breaks free from the formula of past Zatoichi films to offer one of the most complex and subversive entries in the series. This time around when Zatoichi enters yet another small town, he encounters a swordless ronin who dispatches a group of attackers with ease- and without killing anyone. Ichi also hears the rice paddy farmers singing tunes that border on hymnal, reciting the ronin’s teachings to reject the vices of life and instead lead just and simple lives. When he finally finds a gambling establishment, he partakes, but soon realizes that the losers are systematically kidnapped and submitted to debt oriented slavery. When Zatoichi discovers that a rival establishment in the next town over is paying these unfortunate patrons debts and freeing them, he’s astonished at the Yakuza boss’s altruism. When the blind swordsman is pinned for the death of two henchmen, he agrees to take the boss’ tainted money on the road and return in a year, confidant in his benevolence. Months later, word gets back to Ichi that everything in those two towns aren’t as good as he had hoped for, and heads back early when evidence to the truth begins to snowball. The benevolent boss had not been as kind as Zatoichi has initially assumed. In truth, he had guided Zatoichi into killing his rival and laid the groundwork for a particularly brutal money grabbing scheme. Eventually, Zatoichi teams up with the ronin and the townspeople to stop the madness, and enact real change- through some damn entertaining swordplay.

My favorite part: This film in particular had a “punchy” energy to it. I loved the grit and messy nature of this one, and it isn’t just the sense that this film had something to prove- it definitely did, as leading star Shintaro Katsu’s film production company, Katsu Productions, chose to make this film their first. Throw away your old assumptions within the series, because this film doesn’t want them. Here we have the usual ronin figure, but he harbors no sword, is no villain for Zatoichi himself, and he counsels the locals to lead lives free from the trappings of alcohol, gambling, and prostitution.

Why it’s great: “Zatoichi The Outlaw” is an excellent entry in the film series because of the way it shook up the formula that had dictated most of the films up until this point. There’s still the corruption of authority figures, Zatoichi catching cheating gambling establishments, and some blood splatter- but this entry in the series marks the beginning of a fascinating and highly entertaining evolution for Zatoichi.

Final Score: 2 Yakuza Bosses

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25 days of Zatoichi The Blind Swordsman: #15 Zatoichi’s Cane Sword (1967)

Writer/Director: Ryozo Kasahara/Kimiyoshi Yasuda (3rd film)

Summary: Around the usual gangsters and corruption ruining the locals lives, “Zatoichi’s Cane Sword” peels back another layer of Zatoichi’s day to day life, his cane sword. After some scenes familiar to the series, Zatoichi partaking in the ever popular dice gambling, cutting down any resentful gamblers that would come after him for winning too much, and after such an incident the blind swordsman astonishes a fellow patron of a noodle stand. After Zatoichi slashes at two attackers and accidentally cuts the noodle stand in half, the old man sitting next to Ichi pleads with him to come back to his shop. There the old man, Senzo (Eijiro Tono) asks to see Zatoichi’s blade, for he’s a blacksmith and he’d like to see if his eye for swords is still intact. His suspicions confirmed, Senzo claims that the sword was made by his mentor, and, after close inspection, he points to a hairline fracture near the handle warning the blind swordsman that the blade has maybe one last fight in it before it breaks. At this news, Zatoichi takes stock of his life, and decides to leave the sword with Senzo as a memento of his master’s work. Senzo gives Zatoichi a fresh walking cane and a referral to a local inn where Ichi can work and live as a masseur. While there, Ichi hears of the upcoming visit by the provincial inspector, and once arrived, he hears more of the dynamic between upper government and the Boss Iwagoro (Tatsuo Endo). Senzo is mentioned by one of the underlings in the inspector’s crew as working on the sword once again, so Zatoichi pays him a visit. Senzo reveals that he’s the father of Oshizu (Shiho Fujimura), the woman at the center of all the drama taking place at the inn where Zatoichi works. Shamed from his descent from master blacksmith to drunken gambler, Senzo had given his daughter to the local boss at the time so that she could lead a better life. When things get dicey with Iwagoro and his underling Monji, instead of giving up the sword he had worked on for ten years, Senzo defended his blade, but lost his life to the scuffle. After Senzo dies in Zatoichi’s arms, he vows vengeance and retrieves his cane sword, knowing he only has one kill left. As the machinations of the gangs, ronin, and government officials all move towards total domination, Zatoichi eventually faces off against Iwagoro, invigorated by the theft of Senzo’s master work. Though when blades clash it isn’t Zatoichi’s cane sword that breaks, but Iwagoro’s stolen sword. It’s then that Zatoichi realizes that Senzo had switched the blades and put his greatest sword in his cane sword and Ichi’s old blade in the hilt that he knew would be stolen.

My favorite part: With this being the fifteenth film in the series, I was glad to see the filmmakers dive into the details behind another infamous aspect of the blind swordsman. There have been a few movies after Zatoichi’s killed dozens upon dozens of enemy Yakuza when even I have thought, “Wow, it’s amazing that his cane sword’s held up for so long.” so it’s kinda nice to see thought given to that.

Why it’s great: I consider “Zatoichi’s Cane Sword” to be the end of the first half of the films, not just due to it’s place near the numerical center of the film series, but because the films that follow it have a noticeably different shift in style and direction. Whereas the first fifteen films have a certain flow and sense of familiarity from film to film, the ones following seem unbound by the same formula to a certain degree. While the overall structure is similar, the series seems far more likely to take big swings after “Zatoichi’s Cane Sword”. The next film in the Zatoichi saga is also the first endeavor by Shintaro Katsu’s own film production company, “Katsu Productions” where the actor produced many of the following Zatoichi films, and maintained almost complete artistic freedom.

Final Score: 10 years