Tajomaru: Avenging Blade Blu-ray Review
Rashomon redux.
Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman, September 12, 2011
Michele Bachmann may not know how to pronounce
chutzpah, but from her recent statement where she utilized the term, unfortunately pronouncing it phonetically, she at least seems to understand what the term
means. (An even more egregious mispronunciation occurred on Portland's Oregon Public Broadcasting radio one morning when a news reader was talking about the Jewish skullcap and pronounced this word phonetically:
yarmulke, which of course
should have been pronounced "yah-muh-kuh").
Chutzpah to use the crudest analogy means having the balls to do something, usually something that does in fact require a certain unbridled
hubris, to cop a term from another ancient language. And there has to be some sort of special award for a filmic
chutzpah that would dare to reimagine one of the all time classics of international film, Akira Kurosawa's iconic
Rashomon. This is a film that is
so iconic that its very title has entered the public lexicon as shorthand for competing versions of the same event, with the "truth" of what happened remaining forever elusive. But reimagining
Rashomon is more or less exactly what director Hiroyuki Nakano and scenarists Shin'ichi Ichikawa and Rikiya Mizushima have done with
Tajomaru (Avenging Blade), a film which takes the same short story source as Kurosawa's film and casts a new light on its "hero," the bandit Tajomaru, played by Toshiro Mifune in
Rashomon in one of his most famous roles, and here taken on by Japanese heartthrob Shun Oguri. Aside from one not very well thought out "alternate" perspective placed late in the film,
Tajomaru is less about the philosophical conundrums for which
Rashomon is so rightfully remembered and more about a traditional star-crossed lover drama (some would argue melodrama) playing out on a fairly vast canvas amid a world of strictly defined class relationships and dictated societal roles.
Tajomaru (Avenging Blade) begins with a brief prelude which introduces us to the film's four main characters when they are all still children. In a feudal era when roles were determined by a family's class and then within that family by birth order, we're introduced to narration by Naomitsu, who is the second sun of the Hatakeyama family, thus forever consigned to doing whatever his elder brother Nobutsuna (played by Hiroyuki Ikeuchi once we get to the adult years). The Hatakeyama family has evidently been the Shogun's Deputy for at least a generation, and Nobutsana is fated to fulfill that role once he attains adulthood. Also in this quartet are Ako (played by Yuki Shibamoto as an adult), a young girl who obviously has designs on Naomitsu, but who even as a very young female isn't above using her wiles to play one brother off the other. The three romp homeward one day to interrupt a theft by the homeless child Sakuramaru (played by Kei Tanaka in the adult version), whom Naomitsu takes an immediate liking to and decides can be a family servant.
The film then segues forward a decade or so to reveal that Sakuramaru has become something of a plaything (with sexual overtones implied) of the Shogun, while the Hatakeyama brothers are feuding over who will assume the family mantle of Deputy, as well as marry Lady Ako. Sakuramaru uses this family discord to his own advantage, giving each brother conflicting information about the other's plans and motives, leading to a complete rending of their relationship. Naomitsu and Ako decide to escape together, despite the Shogun's pronouncement that Nobutsana should marry Ako and become his Deputy. Sakuramaru's nefarious plotting continues, leading to a series of events that sees several deaths and Naomitsu and Ako left alone to fend for themselves, not quite sure what's going on. That sets up the sequence which is most referential to
Rashomon, as Naomitsu walks Ako through a forest as she rides a palomino and wears a large hat with a veil. They are accosted by famous bandit Tajomaru, who quickly knocks out Naomitsu. When he awakes, he's tied to a tree and is supposedly witnessing the aftermath of Ako having been raped by the bandit. Somewhat surprisingly Ako begs Tajomaru to kill Naomitsu, which understandably upsets the young man, leading to a fight where he actually dispatches the bandit. According to legend, that means that Naomitsu must now assume to identity of Tajomaru, which he decides to do. In the meantime, Ako has escaped into the forest and Naomitsu (now known as Tajomaru) sets off to find her.
Tajomaru (Avenging Blade) starts out incredibly well, with a gorgeous prelude which introduces us to four disparate and extremely well drawn characters. But as the film continues, it too often basks in a really sticky melodramatic approach, with some acting that can only be termed soap operatic. Any film which dares to dart even around the edges of
Rashomon had better have its act together, and while
Tajomaru (Avenging Blade) is frequently lush and beautifully shot, dramatically it's too turgid for its own good, and it's simply too long to support its rather fragile story. The film wants to be a sort of postmodern revision of "In the Grove," the iconic short story that inspired Kurosawa's film, but instead it comes off as a Cliff Notes version of some unrecognizable project that is nowhere near
Rashomon's brilliance but which still wants to evoke that iconic property.
The film is not helped by one of the most anachronistic scores in recent memory, one which can only be compared to the similarly boneheaded attempt to shoehorn a pop hit into the ill conceived (but still fitfully entertaining) Costner
Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Here we get Japanese pop and, believe it or not, something that can only be termed Samurai rap, and it completely disrupts the flow of the film, drawing far too much attention to itself and accomplishing little if anything in terms of helping to create a mood.
On the plus side, though,
Tajomaru (Avenging Blade) is often incredibly beautiful to watch, with some truly stunning location photography helping to evoke a distant time and place. Production design is also very strong, and the costumes are unbelievably sumptuous and well crafted. Though some of the performances are just this side of laughable, Kei Tanaka's glowering presence as Sakuramaru helps to elevate the film, at least until the final moments when even Tanaka gives into a sort of Snidely Whiplash villain portrayal, replete with cackling laugh. If only he had a mustache he could twirl.
Tajomaru (Avenging Blade) probably would have done much better to have disguised its source inspiration and to have perhaps renamed its titular character, to more capably remove the film from
Rashomon's portentous orbit. While some of the film is simply too florid for its own good, it's the comparison to the Kurosawa masterpiece which ultimately most hobbles
Tajomaru, keeping it from being more objectively assessed on its own terms. It still wouldn't be a masterpiece, and certainly not anything approaching the Kurosawa epic, but at least that way it might have had a fighting chance.
