Sword of the Beast – Criterion Collection — dvd movie review
We continue our reviews of he films comprising Criterion’s Rebel Samurai Collection. This week we cover the the second film in the set, Sword of the Beast. As mentioned in the previous review all films featured in the set are available on their own. Now, our Sword of the Beast review.
The Film:
Way back in highschool you may have had some friends that put you up to a dare. Say stealing an opposing team’s mascot for instance. If you performed the dare you would win some respect, and once you finished they’d be there to back you up. Now say you performed the dare. You retrieved the mascot, brought it home, only to find out your friends decided not to back you up at all. “You thought we were serious? You’re in big trouble now, buddy.”
Such is the basic story of Sword of the Beast. Gennosuke (Mikijiro Hira), a well meaning samurai, has killed a chancellor in hopes of enacting the political and social reforms, and raise in both wealth and status promised by his instigator. Well, make that very strongly implied. Upon Gennosuke’s return he finds his clan has turned on him. He is not celebrated as a hero as he had envisioned, but rather cast out as a beast. We meet Gennosuke quite a few months down the road (as evidenced by the shaved portion of his hairstyle having fully grown in), still relentlessly pursued by a gang of officials, the loyalty to his clan replaced by the primal desire to save his own skin. After multiple betrayals Gennosuke meets an old man promising gold in the hills. This gold would provide more than enough for Gennosuke to keep running. The only catch? The gold belongs to the Shogun. Stealing from him is an offense punishable by death. With nothing left to lose, Gennosuke gladly accepts.
Gennosuke’s path of despair is also a scathing critique of entrenched governments; systems that rely on the expendability of their members to maintain power. Gennosuke comes to the realization that near everything he has come to believe, due to the responsibilities of his station and the teachings of the establishment, is illusory. In flashback we see Gennosuke speaking of his hopes if becoming a retainer. He states, “The sword is my only road out of obscurity.” Later he willingly bets his wakizashi, or samurai short sword, in a game of chance, all notions of honor and status abandoned in hopes of making enough money to survive. As his pursuers give chase he cries “To hell with name and pride. I’ll run and never stop!” But for a man labeled a beast, Gennosuke shows far more integrity than any of those seeking his persecution. By shedding his allegiance to the Shogun, he allows the human, instinctual code of ethics to take precedence. As such, Gennosuke on more than one occasion saves the lives of those that would gladly let his expire on their own quests for wealth and power.
Flying In the face of genre conventions, Hideo Gosha (Four Days of Snow and Blood) shot Sword of the Beast on location rather than on static sets, and with realistic, emotive acting instead of the stodgy stage performances that were the staples of the day. The film’s chaotic sword fights (more tumbling brawls than prancing duels), are captured in long-shots and longer takes, the roaming camera focusing on the frenetic festival across close quarters and open fields. This near journalistic method of capture lends a very real sense of fighting for one’s life; an excitement completely absent from the present day spate of over-choreographed altercations. On the whole music is sparse and reserved for sequences of dynamic action, and even then never really rises above light, melodic plucking. The remaining scenes of calm are appropriately married with ambient sounds such as chirping birds or rustling weeds; the lack of a bombastic soundtrack allowing the work of the actors to come to the forefront.
Sword of the Beast is a wonderful tale of integrity in the mold of fugitive action, providing thrills and surprises to the very last frame. Immensely enthralling, this is one beast worth keeping.
The DVD:
This Criterion release marks the home video debut of Sword of the Beast. Keeping with Samurai Rebellion, the transfer for Sword of the Beast is ultra crisp with black blacks and white whites and presented in its original aspect ratio of 2.35:1. Sound has received comparable treatment, and is represented perfectly on a digital mono track. The film contains a fair
amount of overdubbing, so actors mouths don’t quite move in sync with the dialogue coming from the speakers, but this is due to the method used in the original Shochiku studio. It’s no fault of Criterion’s. If you’ve ever watched an Italian horror, spaghetti western, or pre 90’s Hong Kong actioner you’d be familiar with this.
The disc contains no extras, but again the film more than makes up for their absence. The disc does come with an insightful, informative essay by Patrick Macias, author of Tokyoscope (one of my favorite books on cult Japanese cinema), that covers quite a bit of the history of the film, the director, and the time period depicted in the film in his trademark accessible, down to earth fashion.
Another solid film represented extremely well on a high quality Criterion disc.
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