Kazuya Shiraishi’s Bushido is a fascinating clash of visual styles and familiar genre tropes rendered fresh via a strange, languid dramaturgy. Kakunoshin Yanagida (Tsuyoshi Kusanagi) is a middle-aged ronin who has fallen on hard times along with his daughter Kinu (Kaya Kiyohara). They live in the province of Yoshiwara, city of Edo, sometime in the 17th century. Months behind on their rent, Yanagida attempts to make ends meet by hand carving bespoke stamps for wealthy townspeople. He’s also well known amongst his neighbors as a masterful Go player. Following this setup, much of Bushido‘s first half seems content to follow this polite, mild-mannered man as he interacts with various people and becomes a Go tutor to local merchant “Stingy” Genbee Yorozuya (Jun Kunimura). Yorozuya is a hard negotiator (hence the nickname), and plays an aggressive, even rude style of Go. But Yanagida’s calm demeanor and graceful style seems to influence all who play against him, and Yorozuya eventually decides to be a better, more honest businessman, leaving the townspeople amazed at the man’s transformation.
As photographed by cinematographer Jun Fukumoto, the film does little to mask the digital origins of its images. Not unlike Mann’s Public Enemies (although significantly less stylized), Bushido presents all the familiar visual signifiers of a traditional period piece but with the sharp, crisp edges and blown-out bright lights of modern digital photography. It’s a compelling contrast between form and content, complicated by occasional flashbacks filmed in what appears to be (or is a fine imitation of) grainy 16mm film. As a sort of friendship blossoms between the ronin and the merchant, we gradually learn what exactly led to Yanagida’s fall from grace: a fellow samurai employed by the same master stole a valuable scroll and framed Yanagida for the act. This man, Hyogo Shibata (Takumi Saitoh), then assaulted Yanagida’s wife, which led to her taking her own life. All of this is revealed in bits and pieces, stretched out over a prolonged amount of the film’s generous runtime.
It’s not until after the halfway point that real complications are introduced: one of Yorozuya’s employees accuses Yanagida of stealing $50 (a kingly sum), leading to a string of events that turn the film down a darker path. Yanagida first decides to commit seppuku in an effort to regain his honor, but his daughter begs him not to. Instead, she sells herself to a local Madame in exchange for $50, which she gifts to her father to repay Yorozuya. But Yanagida gives the merchant a warning: if they find the missing money, which would prove that Yanagida did not steal it, he will return to take Yorozuya’s head. Meanwhile, news comes that Shibata has been spotted, and Yanagida sets out to seek revenge on the man that wronged him so many years ago.
It’s a radical departure, as Bushido suddenly shifts into a revenge narrative and Yanagida’s demeanor chanegs sharply into an angry, aggrieved warrior seeking vengeance. The film’s color palette grows darker at this point, and the backgrounds become more expressionistic as Yanagida travels the country in pursuit of his prey. The film climaxes with both a Go match and, finally, an action scene. This all reflects a fitting series of dichotomies, as Bushido lurches between stasis and movement, light and dark, honor and treachery. Fans of the genre have likely seen much of this sort of thing before, but Shiraishi has a real feel for offbeat rhythms and slow, meandering sequences that suddenly snap into place and surprise the audience. Bushido is a flawed film, but much is saved in the way Shiraishi orchestrates things not unlike a Go player: the true nature of his strategy only becomes clear once all the pieces have been systematically laid out.
DIRECTOR: Kazuya Shiraishi; CAST: Tsuyoshi Kusanagi, Kaya Kiyohara, Jun Kunimura, Taishi Nakagawa, Eita Okuno; DISTRIBUTOR: Film Movement; IN THEATERS: March 13; RUNTIME: 2 hr. 9 min.
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