13 Assassins (2010)
Distributor (UK): Artificial Eye
Theatrical Release Date (UK): 6th May 2011
Directed by: Takashi Miike
Starring: Koji Yakusho, Takayuki Yamada, Goro Inagaki
Review by: Ben Bussey
Japan, the mid-1800s: it is a time of peace. The samurai are a dying breed, no longer needed, or so it would seem. But there is trouble in paradise, in the form of Lord Naritsugu (Inagaki). As brother of the Shogun he is protected from on high, not subject to the law; fortunate for him, but unfortunate for anyone who crosses his path, as he’s a ruthless sadistic maniac who thinks nothing of venting his frustrations on whomsoever he lays eyes on. After hacking, slashing and raping his way through much of the land, driving a respected man to hara-kiri, Shogun official Sir Doi (Mikijiro Hira) decides enough is enough. Unable to do away with the Shogun’s brother by official means, he tracks down ageing samurai Shinzaemon Shimada (Yakusho) with the offer of an urgent, top secret mission: Naritsugu must die. Shinzaemon accepts, and sets about assembling a group of the finest samurai he can find; no mean feat with so few of them left.
Call it The Dirty Dozen meets Shogun Assassin; call it Inglorious Basterds in feudal Japan; call it Miike’s most accessible work to date. All these labels are applicable, and not one is a negative. 13 Assassins is an exhilarating, rip-roaring historical epic, an absolute triumph of cinematic spectacle. And it’s probably the last thing most viewers would antcipate from the man who gave us Audition and Ichi The Killer.
In a way it might be helpful to not think of this as a Takashi Miike film at all. If you go in looking for his trademark excess and insanity, you might come out a bit underwhelmed. I suppose the key thing with Miike is – at the risk of being trite – to expect the unexpected. His most celebrated films (in the west at least) would seem to be the work of a director placing little or no boundaries on himself. By contrast, 13 Assassins shows definite restraint. Oh, there’s some bizarre stuff here without a doubt – a limbless woman writing with a pen in her mouth, a most novel use of cattle, and echoes of Ichi’s Kakihara in the emotionless cruelty of Naritsugu – but by and large the action plays out in a fairly straight fashion; quite violent and bloody, but no more so than most Hollywood historical epics – Last of the Mohicans, Gladiator et al – and as such unlikely to alienate audiences reared on such mainstream fare.
Indeed, you can hardly get more conventional than the core premise of an old war hero being called out of retirement for one last mission. Shinzaemon is even fishing when we first meet him. Unassuming in nature and appearance, but absolute in his commitment and, of course, hard as nails, it’s a tremendous tough guy role and Koji Yakusho fits it like a glove. Forget The Expendables – this is one old guy you really wouldn’t want to mess around with. Nor do the other twelve assassins disappoint, particular standouts being Takayuki Yamada as Shinzaemon’s nephew Shinrokuro, and Yusuke Iseya as a thief enlisted as a guide: while initially seeming to be just the comic relief, he proves to be every bit as key to the final battle.
Did I just mention a final battle? Oh yes. And oh, sweet lord Buddha, what a battle it is. The final forty five minutes – yes, FORTY FIVE MINUTES – of the movie sees the titular thirteen ambush Naritsugu and his armed guards, who of course outnumber them many times over. 300? Lord of the Rings? Pah. 13 Assassins puts them to shame, with a grandoise and relentessly visceral showdown notable for its lack of slo-mo, wire fu or obvious digital trickery. It’s wonderfully shot, wonderfully edited, and wonderfully performed by all concerned.
In doing away with the dark, perverse elements which have pigeonholed Miike as a ‘torture porn’ director in the eyes of western audiences, 13 Assassins stands up plainly and simply as the work of a master craftsman. Let’s face it, you can’t make as many films as Miike has (70+ and counting) without learning a bit about the craft of filmmaking. Scratch the surface and the man’s signature themes are there, most notably in Naritsagu’s use of violence in a bid to fill some kind of existential void; another excellent performance in Goro Inagaki, his final scenes being particularly engaging. But it’s just as rewarding to kick back and enjoy this as the excellent men-on-a-mission movie it is. It’s gruff, macho, brutal, beautiful, and highly recommended.