An Epic Slice of Life: Revisiting Akira Kurosawa's 'Seven Samurai'

 

Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai is perhaps the closest any director has come to a true cinematic study of social class. Much of the film's genius revolves around moments of humanity hidden where we least expect them: in the merry laughter of peasants, sharing a joke only minutes before the start of the battle that could destroy them; in the tears shed by a brash warrior when confronted with reminders of the past; in a young man's scream of remorse as he is forced to kill for the first time. More than anything, Seven Samurai is an epic behavioral study, and it's this attention to detail which elevates the work from a standard Japanese jidai-geki (samurai picture) to a masterpiece. 

 

Sure, there's also a great story contained herein, but that alone can't account for the film's enduring appeal and renown. Seven Samurai is unequivocally regarded not only as Kurosawa's greatest film, but as the best cinematic work ever to come out of Japan--no small praise, especially considering the caliber of the director's other achievements. There's more going on here than skillful story construction: the events resonate with a degree of sincerity rarely found in modern cinema. It's easy to love these people, because they seem real. They're neither action heroes, nor cardboard stereotypes. 

 

The story: A small village finds itself annually raided by an army of bandits, who steal the meager crops harvested by the peasants. Tired of relinquishing their food supply but woefully inept in combat skills, the villagers decide to hire a band of samurai to protect them. It won't be easy, however: the villagers have nothing to offer their would-be saviors except a few handfuls of stale rice. The advice of the town elder? "Find hungry samurai." 

 

Eventually six warriors are recruited. The regal Kambei (Takashi Shimura) accepts their offer because he believes it's the morally correct thing to do. Katsushiro (Ko Kimura) is a young, inexperienced ronin (masterless samurai) who comes along for a taste of adventure. Schichiroji (Daisuke Kato), an old friend of Kambei, also offers his assistance, as does master swordsman Kyuzo (Seiji Miyaguchi), and two additional samurai, Gorobei (Yoshiro Inaba) and Heihachi (Minoru Chiaki). Trailing after the band of warriors is the brash Kikuchiyo (legendary Japanese actor Toshiro Mifune), the son of a farmer, who wishes to be admitted into the warriors' ranks. 

 

Like Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Seven Samurai is episodic in structure: it's comprised of a number of smaller storylines, all of which are complete in their own right. In addition to the primary conflict between the villagers and the bandits, much of the tale revolves around young Katsushiro's coming-of-age, both sexually and emotionally; it's he who undergoes the most change over the story's 203-minute running time. (Please be aware that some American videos of the film are abridged. Criterion, however, offers the complete film on DVD and Blu-Ray, and this is naturally the version I recommend.) 

 

 

Kikuchiyo's search for acceptance forms the other major storyline; indeed, everyone in Seven Samurai is searching: for adventure, for experience, for freedom from their oppressors. Kikuchiyo's desire for acceptance is particularly interesting, as he has spent his whole life fighting against everything the samurai represent, a conflict which culminates in his famous monologue, a portion of which is quoted at the beginning of this review. It's not so much a speech as a purging of a lifetime's worth of grief and suffering. 

 

So what's the main story? Is this the tale of a band of samurai struggling to help a group of villagers realize their true potential? Or the quest for triumph in the face of adversity? The great strength of Seven Samurai is that it's about all of these things... and by virtue of its diversity, it's not really about any of them, any more than Casablanca is about a guy who runs a bar. 

 

Seven Samurai is the last Kurosawa film to embrace the concept of group unity. From Record of a Living Being (1955) on, the director's work spotlights the actions of individuals (see Yojimbo (1961) and its sequel, Sanjuro (1962)), or, as in his spectacular Ran (1985), the ramifications of a union gone wrong. But here, Kurosawa tips his hand to us, revealing a surprising streak of optimism. The effect is not unlike a rainbow after a storm: an image of beauty, created from chaos. Seven Samurai marks the last time the filmmaker's faith in mankind shone quite so brightly. It's the world's loss. 

 

 

Criterion offers a beautifully restored and feature-packed edition of Seven Samurai on DVD and Blu-Ray. Order your copy now.