
TARNISHED. Kihachi Okamoto’s 1966 classic Sword of Doom explores
the premise that a tainted sword reflects the tainted soul of its wielder, a
theme of samurai culture. (Photo
courtesy of Toho Co., Ltd.)
From The Asian Reporter, V16, #30 (July 25, 2006), page 11.
An evil mind, an evil sword
Sword of Doom
Directed by Kihachi Okamoto
Produced by Sanezumi Fujimoto, Kaneharu Minamizato,
Masayuki Sato
By Mike Street
Special to The Asian Reporter
A central theme of samurai culture is the intimate connection between a
warrior and his sword, expressed in the statement, "A warrior’s blade is his
soul." Most often, this means that a samurai must never be without his
sword, for he is incomplete without it. Kihachi Okamoto’s 1966 classic
Sword of Doom explores another corollary of this premise, that a tainted
sword reflects the tainted soul of its wielder. Or, as Toranosuke Shimada
(Toshiro Mifune) puts it, "An evil mind, an evil sword." Although the plot
is intricate and the action occasionally quite bloody, Sword of Doom
is undoubtedly Okamoto’s finest film, and its deep, dark themes transcend
the fantastic action sequences to create a samurai classic that must not be
missed.
Set during the backstabbing period of political infighting known as the
Bakumatsu period, Sword of Doom centers around the preternaturally
gifted, and heartlessly determined, masterless samurai Ryunosuke Tsukue
(Tatsuya Nakadai). After a seemingly unrelated opening scene displaying
Ryunosuke’s abject cruelty, the dark-hearted samurai’s father confronts him
about his upcoming duel with Bunnojo Utsugi. Although Ryunosuke has little
to lose or gain, his father explains, a victory by Bunnojo means he will
ascend to the head of his fencing school, while a loss will mean disgrace
and penury for him and the Utsugi family. Ryunosuke’s father urges him to
let Bunnojo win, though he could defeat the man easily.
Even Bunnojo’s wife Hama pleads with Ryunosuke to throw the duel, and she
allows herself to be ravished by Ryunosuke, hoping this will convince him to
lose. This rape scene is among the film’s most memorable, set in a grain
mill, its mechanical pounding grimly echoing Ryunosuke’s deplorable actions.
The next day, Ryunosuke wins the duel easily, then is ambushed by Utsugi’s
men as he departs, also winning easily in the film’s first brilliant
one-against-all action sequence. Throughout, his cruelty is emphasized by
the words of other characters, his own dead stare providing ample evidence
of his emotional absence.
The film continues several years later, with Ryunosuke and Hama (divorced
by Bunnojo after the mill incident) living in Kyoto with their child, barely
scraping by on Ryunosuke’s ill-gotten gains. His past has begun to catch up
with him, as he soon crosses paths with Bunnojo’s brother Hyoma (Yuzo
Kayama), along with Omatsu (Yoko Naito), a forlorn girl from the film’s
opening scene. Hyoma is being trained by Toranosuke Shimada, who knows the
secret to defeating Ryunosuke’s "silent style," and Mifune’s solid
performance as Shimada shows the virtuous side of samurai, further
punctuating Ryunosuke’s evil nature.
Engaged in the political machinations of the Shincho group, pursued by
both Hyoma and Omatsu’s guardian, Ryunosuke finally falls prey to his fate.
Beset by phantoms of his victims, Ryunosuke flails blindly around a teahouse
room, the torn screens revealing actual pursuers: renegade members of the
Shincho group. This leads to an epic battle between Ryunosuke and an endless
stream of Shincho rebels, his skill and persistence on bloody display.
For all the intricacies of the plot, the ending will leave many questions
unanswered, and its unresolved nature points towards the less traditional
samurai films emerging during the late 1960s in Japan. Nakadai’s
blood-chilling performance is also indicative of the less sympathetic
samurai portrayals to come, at the same time offering proof that excellent
acting can inform the audience better than plot or overt explanation ever
could. One cannot easily forget the dead look in Ryunosuke’s eyes, his
callus disregard of everyone close to him, and his relentless pursuit of
victory with his blade.
One never feels that Nakadai carries the film, as his performance is
matched by Okamoto’s deft hand. The latter’s skill shows in the gorgeous
cinematography, his elaborate, if sometimes disturbing, choreography of
fight scenes, and his ability to make the pure evil of Ryunosuke seem subtle
and understated. Sword of Doom is a samurai film that will satisfy
virtually every viewer, from the swordfighting aficionado to the literary
intellectual. Its convoluted plot and bloody excesses may turn away the
casual or new samurai filmgoer, but everyone else is strongly encouraged to
catch this timeless film on the big screen, where the physical dimensions of
the action match the broad sweep of its theme.
|