Akira Kurosawa's The Hidden Fortress

Toshiro Mifune as Rokuota.

I just want to say upfront that the least interesting thing about The Hidden Fortress is that George Lucas has said it inspired Star Wars (1977). Akira Kurosawa's 1958 adventure can stand on its own. It was a huge hit in Japan when first released and has garnered critical raves since then. That said, I had mixed feelings after recently watching it again.

Set in Japan in the 16th century, The Hidden Fortress opens by introducing Tahei and Matashichi, two greedy, constantly bickering peasants. After being captured by and then escaping from the Yamana clan, they encounter a mysterious stranger. They tell him how they plan to navigate through enemy lines to safety in Hayakawa. The peasants don't know that the stranger is General Rokuota (Toshiro Mifune), who has been tasked with the mission of transporting Princess Yuki through dangerous Yamana lands.

The bickering duo.

Rokuota realizes that the peasants' plan is ingenious. He takes them to the location of a hidden fortress, where they eventually encounter the princess. The peasants, though, think she is a mute girl of no importance. Princess Yuki plays that role to the hilt when she, Rokuota, Tahei, and Matashichi start their journey with the enemy close behind. It's a trek filled with danger and, of course, the two greedy fools--who make both idiotic and unintentionally intelligent decisions.

The first half-hour of The Hidden Fortress plods along relentlessly, focusing on the ineptitude of Tahei and Matashichi. Initially, they are an amusing pair, but their act quickly grows wearisome. The story finally picks up when Kurosawa injects some much-needed drama. We learn that Rokuota's sister has died in Yuki's place in an effort to protect the princess. Later, after the quartet has begun its journey, we discover that Yuki's servants have also sacrificed themselves to buy their mistress valuable time.

The defiant princess.

In contrast to the film's sluggish opening, its final 90 minutes comprise an exciting, near-perfect action film. Rokuota fights four assailants on horseback, hides in plain sight in a town infested with the enemy, and--best of all--confronts an old nemesis in an elaborate duel with spears.

Director Akira Kurosawa's focus, though, is on the princess. When we first meet her, she is obstinate, defiant, and petulant. She undergoes a transformation during the journey, becoming more compassionate, learning to rely on others, and displaying courage when required. In a key scene, she thanks Rokuota for allowing her to experience the journey and learn what she never could have known inside the castle walls.

Misa Uehara as Princess Yuki.

Toshiro Mifune projects a compelling presence (as he did in most of his films), but is more serious than in better-known movies where he played broader characters (e.g., Sanjuro, Yojimbo). That's a good thing considering that the peasants are played for comedic effect. That leaves it to Misa Uehara to provide the most captivating performance as Princess Yuki. Given little dialogue, she defines her character using facial expressions and body language. Surprisingly, this was the actress's first film and her acting career consisted of just nine movies from 1950 to 1960.

As always, Kurosawa incorporates vivid landscapes into the action, with the story punctuated with forest trails, rocky paths, dusty pits, and sweeping hills. It's one of the reasons why some of his films worked so well when remade as Westerns (The Magnificent Seven, A Fistful of Dollars).

When released in the U.S., The Hidden Fortress was edited from its 139-minutes running time. One version cut 13 minutes and a later reissue eliminated a whopping 49 minutes. I'm hoping that's all at the start of the film!

Akira Kurosawa's Sanjuro: Floating Flowers and a Slicing Sword

Sanjuro was my first foreign film, my first samurai film, and my first Kurosawa film. When I watched in it on PBS in the early 1970s, I’m not sure if I even knew who Akira Kurosawa was (but suspect I soon learned). I found Sanjuro charming, intriguing, and mesmerizing. Each time I watch it again, I’m reminded of that unique blend of qualities. Although I admire the more critically-acclaimed Kurosawa films such as The Seven Samurai and The Hidden Fortress, none of them has toppled Sanjuro as my favorite.

The plot bares a passing resemblance to The Seven Samurai, in which a village hires down-on-their-luck samurai to protect them from marauding outlaws. In Sanjuro, a group of young men are joined by a wandering samurai in their quest to oust a corrupt official from power. Sanjuro Tsubaki (Mifune) is a reluctant hero, though. After eavesdropping on the young men discussing their village’s problems, he emerges only to offer advice (“They say outsiders can be good judges”). However, after learning that the youngsters can’t take care of themselves, he agrees to help.

The young men and the villain’s henchmen quickly learn that the disheveled, yawning, perpetually-scratching Sanjuro is a force to be reckoned with. Although a master swordsman capable of single-handedly defeating a horde of bad guys, Tsubaki’s greatest strength lies in his shrewdness. He uncovers that the “good” superintendent and the “bad” chamberlain are just the opposite—it’s the superintendent who has been taking graft and plotting a takeover.

Unlike many bloody samurai films, Sanjuro balances the swordplay with humor and charm. An old lady chastises the veteran warrior Tsubaki, warning him that “killing is a bad habit.” The cynical Tsubaki, who admits allegiance to no one, develops a fondness for the young men he’s helping.

Mifune has a field day in the title role. A film critic once pointed out that John Belushi’s “Saturday Night Live” samurai character was obviously patterned after Mifune’s performance in Sanjuro. He may be right; it’s hard to watch one and not think of the other. It also highlights that Mifune was a fine comedian as well as an action hero.

Kurosawa’s direction is seamless, flowing effortlessly from kinetic (as in the swordfights) to poetic (camelia blossoms flowing down a creek). The final showdown between Tsubaki and another samurai (whom he respects) is stunning in its efficiency and shock value.

I find it interesting that many of Kurosawa’s films have been adapted for American and European audiences. The Seven Samurai was remade as The Magnificent Seven (and other films); Yojimbo became A Fistful of Dollars; George Lucas even says that Star Wars was inspired by The Hidden Fortress. But no one has remade Sanjuro—perhaps indicating that it truly is a one-of-kind samurai picture.