Sanjuro and the Man With No Name

The "Man With No Name" Series, a.k.a. the "Dollars" films:

Yojimbo (1961, Kurosawa)

Sanjuro (1962, Kurosawa)

A Fistful of Dollars (1964, Leone)

For a Few Dollars More (1965, Leone)

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966, Leone)

Many people know that A Fistful of Dollars was a remake of Kurosawa's Yojimbo.  The plot goes pretty much scene for scene from the original, although Eastwood plays a slightly different hero than does Mifune. For a Few Dollars More may have borrowed some elements from the Japanese sequel, Sanjuro, but it is quite different.  For a Few Dollars more takes the character of the Man with No Name in a certain direction-- he has a sense of humor, but Eastwood is certainly for sale. By the time that trilogy ends, his morality is determined by the Almighty Dollar.

In Sanjuro, the character becomes more moral, taking on the cause of the underdog, even offering to sacrifice himself and proves himself wise in the arena of politics with a military twist. As per usual, the Man with No Name (who names himself "30-year Camellia" on a lark) arrives in a town split by violent factions. In this case, one faction is behind truth and justice and the other is not. As usual, our anti-hero gets involved, and his methods are... unusual. At the very least, unexpected. The "good" faction are often fighting about whether to listen to the man.

What is most unique in this film is the insertion of a female, even gentle, point of view. Recognizing Mifune as a "glinting sword" an older woman recommends that he would be better off as "a sword in a sheath." We find our anti hero questioning himself, even making errors, because of his excessive violence and self-assurance.

I love Mifune's take of this character, at one point lazy, another yelling, another deeply considering as he rubs his face.  So full of life and joy.  I am really beginning to appreciate the appearances of Tatsuya Nakadai, here as Mifune's counterpart on the corrupt side of the equation.  This is the one place where I can see a similarity between Sanjuro and For a Few Dollars More-- in the uncomfortable camaraderie of equals.  That aspect truly enriches both films, although it is minor in Sanjuro.

One of the fascinating aspects of Sanjuro, which is also played with in Harakiri, is the facade of dishonor, even betrayal, for the sake of loyalty and honor.  The nine young samurai are often discussing whether Mifune is simply unorthodox in his approach to nobility, or is actually ignoble. This aspect makes this film more true to real life, for there are many people in which the appearance of disloyalty is the same as disloyalty, as if a criticism of a nation is equal to a lack of patriotism.  "The proof is in the pudding", so to speak.

Should actually be titled
"The Bad, the Bad and the Bad"

Although out of the whole series, I find For a Few Dollars More the more entertaining ride, I find Sanjuro to be both funny and introspective, both filled with action and a call to gentleness. If Tarantino would ever get off of his revenge kick, I'd love to see him do a remake of this classic film.

For the record, I consider The Good, the Bad and the Ugly the worst of the five films. I dislike the depths of selfishness the Eastwood character goes to and the development of that character as a money-grubbing criminal.  Obviously I don't have a problem with immoral characters (see my review of Sword of Doom), but I find that the Man With No Name isn't very smart in this last film.  Sigh.  Oh well. 

Human Garbage: The Lower Depths

Very theatrical, great stage, great script, fantastic actors.  It hardly matters what else you put in the film, that's seems like enough.  But that's not all that's here.

It begins darkly, letting us know that our setting is considered a garbage heap, and our focus characters for the next couple hours are garbage.  But they are deeply human garbage.  The brutal thief in love with the oppressed inn girl.  The drunk actor, the angry tinker, the dying wife, the commitless gambler, the wise old pilgrim.  And, of course, the greedy innkeeper and his faithless wife.  Garbage?  Perhaps, from one perspective.  But reflections of our true selves, enhanced by poverty.

This film is really all about hope.  Yes, a few glory in their past, but for most of the poor, hope is their bread and butter.  Hope for more money, for a good spouse, for sobriety, for complete rest.   Just as the poor today might hope for the lottery or for someone to give them a safe place to sleep.  It is said that hope does not disappoint, but the poor know better.  Hope is rarely realized when you are impoverished.  But that doesn't mean that your life isn't about that hope.  Even when you understand that hope is a lie, you cling to that lie because without it despair floods you and you are over.

The most wonderful aspects of this film is when it suddenly turns vaudeville, as if Kurosawa invited the Marx Brothers in for a scene or two.  There is singing, running, dancing and silly humor.  Because, as Sullivan's Travels reminds us, what the poor needs most isn't money, but an opportunity to laugh and to forget their troubles.

A very wise, very entertaining theatre piece. 

Weakness and Natural Consequence: Throne of Blood

The Movie Bible: The Bible is a collection of ancient stories, all themed around humanity’s relationship with God and about how God wants us to live.   What would the Bible look like today if movies were collected around such themes?  I will discuss such movies, giving non-spoiler plots, discussing themes in the film and then drawing a conclusion.

After a miraculous victory, a general heads to his warlord’s castle, only to be waylaid by a witch who declares a dark prophecy:  At first he and his friend would both receive generous promotions.  And then he would take his lord’s place, and his friend’s son would eventually take his place.  After the first part of the prophecy came true, the general tried to forget the second, evil prophecy, but he could not.  His wife constantly reminds him of the prophecy, fanning his ambition into action.  He murders his lord and takes his place as warlord.  Eventually his ambition and selfish pride gets the best of him and all his plans sour, forcing the whole kingdom to be turned upside down in war and death.

If you are familiar with Shakespeare at all, you recognize Macbeth, one of his most famous plays.  For me, Akira Kurosawa is the king of Shakespeare adaptations.  He keeps the story, but translates them fully into feudal Japan.  One of the most problematic parts of enjoying Shakespeare is the poetry, where I feel I have to do literary analysis on every single line.  With Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood or Ran (his adaptation of King Lear),  you can appreciate the melodrama without the poetry.  It allows the actors more freedom to act without monologues and gives so much freedom for the director. There is so much to appreciate in Shakespearean plots and so much darkness to delve into.

Honestly, though, I have never appreciated Macbeth.  It is too dark, too fully immersed into the growing evil of the central character.  There is certainly a character arc—going the wrong way.  I am more and more uncomfortable as the story goes on.

In Throne of Blood, there is much more to appreciate than just the character.  Right from the beginning, the male chorus with the foggy castle in the distance gives one of the ominous, horror-filled bookends ever.  Mifune, one of the greatest actors of Japanese cinema gives an over-the-top performance, as he is horrified with the circumstances and with himself.

There are many defenders of the original play and story.  “It is a classic story of fate dealing with a man and his wife who made evil decisions.  In their hearts they were ambitious and prideful, and fate led them to a nasty end.  You reap what you sow.  When you give into depravity, you must face the  consequences.”

Okay, I understand this, somewhat.  Certainly it shows the consequence of vanity, arrogance and selfish ambition.  But Mifune’s Macbeth doesn’t begin ambitious.  He was on his way to receive a great reward for a great work.  He had achieved his ambition.  And right in that time, the seed was planted which was to become his downfall.  It did not need to happen, it was not natural to him.  And, in fact, he wouldn’t have even pursued the prophecy were it not for his evil wife (who is played with amazing subtlety in Throne of Blood by Isuzu Yamada—perhaps my favorite performance in 1957).  Even with her pushing, he might not have done the murder if the lord did not come to visit his castle.   He was pushed and pushed until the evil deed had almost accomplished itself, he was just the hand that held the blade.

He was not evil, just weak.  And from this point on, he is treated as the evil criminal he certainly was, but not in his heart.  As time passed, his heart soon caught up with his deed and he became the selfish lord that the witch, the wife and fate determined him to be.  What a horrible fate! 

All the more horrible, as I know many like him.  Weak, trapped and ultimately committing crimes and so convincing himself that they are among the great evil men.  And who could deny this?  No one. 

My only question in all this is: Where is the hope of redemption?  The weak one should have an out, an opportunity for repentance, for confession, for deliverance from his own heart.   But in Kurosawa’s film, as in Shakespeare, there is no hope for redemption.  The path of weakness leads straight to hell.  There is no turning back

And ultimately, this is why I must reject this film, this story.   As the ancient text says, “I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked.  Rather, turn back, turn back!  Why then will you die?”  

Or, the more modern text says, “Are you not entertained?”  No.  No, I am not.  If life is like this, it is too horrible to contemplate, even were it true.

ER in Early Tokyo

Red Beard



One of the things I love about Akira Kurosawa is his ability to take films that are in completely different situations, and turn them into high drama.  Sure, it’s easy when you are doing a version of Macbeth (Throne of Blood) or King Lear (Ran), but this film is about a medical clinic in a poor area of Edo (which in a later era becomes Tokyo).  Could high drama be found here?  Perhaps the stakes aren’t as high as Ran or even The Seven Samurai, but this film expresses the drama of each human life, even the “small” life.  Red Beard is about the drama of compassion.

Technical—4/5—Nothing spectacular, but pretty sharp film quality for its era.  The script and direction are marvelous, if not exceptional.

Interest—5/5—Every time a story arc ends, there is another that has already started.  It is a powerful drama, filled with a number of laugh-out-loud moments, not least the out-of-context fight at the brothel.



Tension—4/5—At first, it seems pretty light, but as we follow the experiences of the new doctor, we join him as he bit by bit becomes more involved with those in the clinic.  At first, we have a bit of curiosity, then we experience the horror of death, then we appreciate the tragic story of the life of a good man, and then finally we are weeping at the tragedy of a small character.  I think I lost a bit of tension because I’d seen it just a year ago, but give me another year and I’ll be ready to see it again.

Emotional—5/5—Played me like a yo-yo, and I'd go through it all again, just for the enjoyment of the emotional manipulation.



Characters—5/5—This is the final pairing of Kurosawa and Mifune, but Mifune is as brilliant as he ever was.  He plays the title character with that perfect balance of seriousness and willingness to make fun of himself that is so well done.  The character of the girl taken from the brothel is also perfectly played.  I wish that some of the smaller roles were given more room to develop.

Theme—4/5 Compassion over honor.  Pretty basic, but well done.



Ethics—5/5—There are no deep ethical questions brought up here, we are all familiar with the stakes here.  However the rewards of a life of compassion, as dubious as they are, are clearly presented.

Personal—5/5—I hope I’m not boasting, but it is my attempt to be a man like Red Beard and to create a community of help like he did.  And I think that this, more than anything else, is what touches me about this film and makes it my favorite of Kurosawa’s films.


Mifune's doctor is an amazing character, (if one ignores his out-of-the-blue martial arts scene).  He is quiet, gruff and tough on his doctors.  Yet we love him so.  How is it that we want to identify with him so much, even though his lifestyle is so far from most of our own?  It is because, in the end, we all desire to be good.  We don't have to be as good as Mother Teresa, but we want to be seen as compassionate and caring in at least some aspect of our lives.  And Mifune invites us to identify with him.  We can, if only for a couple hours, can be the compassionate hero.