Harakiri
is a film that has intrigued me for years – as a child,
I saw it referenced alongside the likes of contemporary Japanese
movies Onibaba and Kwaidan in
horror movie books, despite the fact that it isn’t a horror
movie, and it has remained a film that I was keen to see, but
somehow never had. Such anticipation often leads to disappointment,
but in this case, watching the film had quite the opposite effect
– the movie turned out to be better than I could have possibly
hoped. A masterpiece, in fact.
Set in 1630, the film opens with poverty stricken ronin Hanshiro
Tsugumo (Tatsuya Nakadai) appearing at the gate of the Iyi clan,
asking to be allowed to commit hara-kiri (ritual suicide for those
of you not in the know) in their courtyard. Clan Kayegu Saito
(Rentaro Mikuni) is suspicious of his motives, as many down and
out samurai have been showing up at clan houses with the same
request, but in fact with no intention of actually ending their
lives, but rather using the threat as a form of extortion, knowing
that they will be paid money and sent away. Saito tells Tsugumo
the story of one such visitor, Motome Chijiiwa (Akira Ishihama),
who’s bluff was called, and who was forced to go through
with self-immolation, having to use a bamboo sword because he
had sold his own.
Tsugumo assures them that he is sincere in his desire to die,
and arrangements are made. But before he does so, he asks to tell
them something of his life. It turns out that Motome Chijiiwa
was no stranger to him, and the film then unfolds the story behind
the desperate and tragic decision that led to the young man's
painful (and brutally gory) death, and Tsugumo’s desire
to avenge him…
Given
that this is a 133 minute movie in which very little actually
happens (if there is one word that sums the film up, it's 'stillness'),
it’s surprising and gratifying that the story is so compulsive,
and the filmmaking so magnificent, that the film flies by. Tatsuya
Nakadai’s performance is spot-on – gradually revealing
his anger and emotion as he sits telling his story in the hope
of making the Iyi clan understand their cruelty, his dour demeanour
contrasting with the happiness of his family life seen in the
flashbacks. With subtle yet highly effective traditional music
motifs, beautifully framed imagery and a building sense of tragedy
as we discover the reasons why Motome took such an ill-fated chance,
Harakiri steadily, painfully builds to a dramatic
climax – the only real action scene of the film, and one
that avoids Hollywood action clichés, offering a more realistic
view of what would happen if one man took on twenty or more opponents.
As an indictment of the samurai code of honour and the inflexibility
of tradition, where basic human sympathy is replaced with concern
about a loss of status, Harakiri is a powerful,
bitter film. As a revenge movie – which it ultimately is
– it’s unlike any other, allowing moments of silence
and reflection to develop where most filmmakers would try to cram
in action – and it’s all the better for it.
Eureka’s Masters of Cinema edition looks great, and comes
as a dual DVD / Blu-ray package, complete with an excellent 28
page booklet and an unfortunately poor video interview with director
Masaki Kobayashi, where the interviewer is too much in love with
his own voice. A minor blip in an otherwise flawless package.
Buy this film!
Harakiri
is a film that has intrigued me for years – as a child,
I saw it referenced alongside the likes of contemporary Japanese
movies Onibaba and Kwaidan in
horror movie books, despite the fact that it isn’t a horror
movie, and it has remained a film that I was keen to see, but
somehow never had. Such anticipation often leads to disappointment,
but in this case, watching the film had quite the opposite effect
– the movie turned out to be better than I could have possibly
hoped. A masterpiece, in fact.
Given
that this is a 133 minute movie in which very little actually
happens (if there is one word that sums the film up, it's 'stillness'),
it’s surprising and gratifying that the story is so compulsive,
and the filmmaking so magnificent, that the film flies by. Tatsuya
Nakadai’s performance is spot-on – gradually revealing
his anger and emotion as he sits telling his story in the hope
of making the Iyi clan understand their cruelty, his dour demeanour
contrasting with the happiness of his family life seen in the
flashbacks. With subtle yet highly effective traditional music
motifs, beautifully framed imagery and a building sense of tragedy
as we discover the reasons why Motome took such an ill-fated chance,
Harakiri steadily, painfully builds to a dramatic
climax – the only real action scene of the film, and one
that avoids Hollywood action clichés, offering a more realistic
view of what would happen if one man took on twenty or more opponents.
