****½
Ruling is convenient, but only for rulers.
From the opening shot of this film, you know that it means business. This clear homage to Seven Samurai tries to raise the stakes. Instead of the fate of a village, the fate of the era of peace under the Tokugawa shogunate is at stake. Instead of seven samurai we have twelve—maybe thirteen. As I recall, the samurai in Seven Samurai were a ronin, or masterless samurai. In 13 Assassins there are three ronin, by my count. In both films there are iconic scenes wherein samurai life is harshly critiqued and shown in an unglamorous life. In Seven Samurai that came from the mouth of the esteemed Toshiro Mifune, whereas here Koyata–Yûsuke Iseya–does not mascarade as a samurai, but speaks as a nomadic hunter who deals death with cloth slingshot. Lastly, in Seven Samurai the noble samurai turn the town into a major home field advantage with the aim of driving off about 40-50 bandits. However, in this film the number is greater and the town was to become “a town of death.”
I found it fascinating how that prospect was not horrifying. Or at least it seemed less horrible than particular atrocities committed by Lord Naritsugu—Gorô Inagaki who gave the best performance of the lot. Naritsugu is the half-brother of the shogun and is to become the shogun’s chief advisor within the year. He is also the target of the assassins. His character plays an interesting role in debating the value of human life within the film. I rooted for his death, but he seemed to barely value his own life. Here is an exchange between Naritsugu and his chief advisor, Hanbei:
Lord Naritsugu: [Battle] is magnificent. With death comes gratitude for life. If a man has lived in vain, then how trivial his life is. Oh, Hanbei. Something wonderful has come to my mind.
Hanbei Kitou: Yes?
Lord Naritsugu: Once I’m on the Shogun’s council, let’s bring the age of war.
Hanbei is on the left and Lord Naritsugu is in white.
Lord Naritsugu does not consider himself evil. He is a ruler and does what he wishes because that is his place. He warps samurai logic to calmly explain why he is executing a family, or calls those beneath him “monkeys.” He does so with some small enjoyment, even if he acts without malice. This manifestation of evil was both frightening and powerful.
This is the man, the monster, whom Hanbei has spent much of his life protecting, such is his duty. He knows that the assassins are coming and in fact trained with their leader, Shinzaemon Shimada. Theirs is a battle of duties: the duty of loyalty versus the duty of patriotism. It is not a simple decision for either side to make since once must keep alive a villain who threatens the peace in the country while the other must plot murdering many men in order to assassinate that great threat. Yet the film is guilty of placing some lives far above others. For each assassin who falls there is about a minute devoted to the death and later a shot of his corpse, on the other hand, many nameless samurai die at their hands with only a slight relief at their passing.
Ah, the end fight scene. It was epic. With so many samurai to dispatch, there are myriad deaths and ways to create those ends. I question the strategy that Shinzaemon employs, having the high ground and archers and opting for a fairer fight, despite saying “No mercy! There’s no samurai code or fair play in battle! No sword? Use a stick. No stick? Use a rock. No rock? Use your fists and feet! Lose your life, but make the enemy pay!” In the end so, so many pay.