Zatôichi

The blind swordsman known as Zatoichi wanders rural 19th century Japan with seemingly pained vulnerability. His permanent hunch, ambled along with a benign appearing walking stick, is barely noticed by the dreaded Ginzo gang, who has the villagers shaking in fear as they hand over "protection money" to these gangsters. The swordsman passes through, making acquaintance with the regulars of the mountain hamlet: a ne'er do well gambler and his aunt, a pair of siblings seeking vengeance on the Ginzos for the earlier slaughter of their family, some elderly watering hole proprietors, and even the lightning fast bodyguard for the Ginzo clan. 

Zatoichi uses his other senses to intuit the score at an given moment, be it to win at the dice table or to cut his current opponent to ribbons with that special walking stick, which is revealed to be something a bit more lethal. Is Zatoichi truly blind? Why does he tell everyone he is merely a masseur? What's the deal with those siblings who disguise themselves as geishas? Is the bodyguard just a shell of a man with no morals? I'll skip to Inquiry #3, as some of the surprises in the 2003 film ZATOICHI are quite enjoyable. Hattori, said bodyguard, also wanders in town, with a very ill wife in tow. Apparently, that sword of his has severed many limbs. It pays the bills. When the opportunity arises to protect the slimy, extorting gang members from rival gangs and the occasional citizen who has the courage to fight back, he takes it. 

But why? Writer/director Takeshi Kitano (who also portrays the title character) suggests that he will use the money to help his wife get well. Or, maybe the guy just can't seem to serve any other purpose. This is an interesting, if familiar, notion, as the same could be said for Zatoichi himself. But what's his story? We don't learn much about his history. Perhaps viewers familiar with this decades old character can fill in the blanks. The blind swordsman was seen in films and television programs for years before Kitano took a whack. His contemporary film retains much of the general plotline, adding some rather artistic CGI bloodletting. The fight sequences are choreographed much like many a previous entry in this genre. If you've ever caught the LIGHTNING SWORDS OF DEATH series from the 70s, you'll see the similarity. 

In the earlier movies, the arterial sprays of gore in breath-taking Shawscope looked very real, often earning the pics X-ratings for violence alone. ZATOICHI instead frames the blood as pigment on a canvas. Over-the-top swordplay and slashes beget fountains of magenta and rose. It looks somewhat beautifully phony. I remember such use of blood in Kitano's previous HANA-BI and SONANTINE, two crime sagas well worth the time. It's as if the action isn't intended to seem hard and real. The character motivations, the human drama, the bittersweet taste of vengeance draws us in with their visceral familiarity. Then comes the mythos. 

The Zatoichi character was always the laconic stranger who cleaned up the town ala Clint Eastwood in the Sergio Leone epics. Here he becomes even more mythical. The drama leads where we often suspect, simultaneously presenting everything as if it were a moving painting. Even when "good guys" fall on the sword, it compels the art. Not intellectually. Like Zatoichi, we should use alternate modalities (for us, other than intellect) to appreciate and analyze the information. Arguably, that's what we should do with any film. It generally works, though frustratingly Kitano tries to have it both ways: searing action sequences and a more meditative approach. Both can be implemented in the same film; Kitano tries to do both within the same scene! He'll open with clanging swordplay, then edit out the more potentially exhilarating shots, cutting to another character hunched over a mat in introspection.

The audience is being set-up, then jerked in another direction. A climax that is anticipated is quite cavalierly truncated. Kitano here is sort of like an Asian Victor Borge, beginning to play a few keys on the piano, only to stop and talk, play a few more notes, then crack an anecdote, never resolving the piece. ZATOICHI is mostly fun, though. Don't expect strict reverence to Japanese folklore, or the grim seriousness of earlier Kitano pics. Do smile widely at the tap dancing musical finale. Kinda unavoidable anyway.