The Twilight Samurai

After having been immersed in Japanese film since meeting my husband five years ago, I've come to the not unreasonable expectation that any Japanese film I come across is going to be horrifically tragic, have a horrifically tragic twist, or interrupt a comedic scene with something horrifically tragic, like a sudden violent death. What can I say, it's a very sober culture. This is not to say that I don't like Japanese film, quite the contrary. But I don't expect a pleasant evening out of one.

Imagine my surprise, then, at 2002's Tasogare Seibei (The Twilight Samurai). Regarded as the best of the recent samurai movies, The Twilight Samurai is set near the end of Japan's feudal era and tells the tale of a low-level samurai named Seibei. There's an idea in the West that the samurai were similar to contemporary soldiers, ie. that being a swordsman was a full-time job. In reality, with so many of them kicking about there were many tiers of samurai, and Seibei is such a low-level one that so long as his clan in not engaged in active warfare, he works for a pittance as a storehouse inventory clerk - think of him as being in the army reserves. Seibei is a widower with two young daughters and a mother suffering from late-stage Alzheimer's, and as his position doesn't provide enough to hire help - indeed, it barely provides enough for the four of them to live, as he remains in debt from his wife's medical care and funeral - he must go straight home every night to care for them and do housework, thus earning him the derogatory nickname "Twilight". It is a foreign concept to Seibei's co-workers that he can't ever go out drinking in the evenings; though being aware of his situation, they just don't get why he won't ever blow off his responsibilities just for one night.

Seibei's only true friend is a fellow samurai named Iinuma, who is of a much higher clan rank and social standing, and often away to Edo or Tokyo on business. On one trip home, Iinuma tells Seibei of his sister Tomoe's divorce. Tomoe's husband, a respected samurai captain, turned out to be an abusive drunk, and when this became clear Iinuma petitionned the clan for a divorce on her behalf, which was granted. Iinuma is wracked with guilt, as he arranged the marriage, having every reason to believe it was a good match. Seibei is wracked with guilt and inner conflict, as he didn't really love his late wife and always carried a torch for Tomoe, but won't pursue her because he (reasonably) believes their social situations are too different - her family is quite rich, and her standard of living would lower drastically if married to Seibei. And Tomoe's ex-husband, Koda, is wracked with anger, refusing to accept the divorce. Koda eventually shows up at Iinuma's house late one night, drunk, and challenges Iinuma to a duel, which Seibei accepts in his place in order to protect his friend's life and standing (dueling within the clan is forbidden). When Seibei defeats Koda without killing him, things start to change, though he does his best to prevent that. Meanwhile, since her return to Iinuma, Tomoe has been reacquainting herself with her childhood friend Seibei, and coming to his home every day to do housework, care for his mother and daughters, and help ease his difficult life. She loves him. He loves her. Throw in a little sociology, a little politics, and the newfound unwanted attention Seibei is getting from the clan leadership since the rumour of Koda's defeat has emerged, and hey! You've got a story!

And a very nice story it is. Neither sappy nor perversely tragic, The Twilight Samurai is a multi-layered, well-written, well-acted, well-paced, and all-around excellent and enjoyable film. The title is not only a riff on Seibei's nickname, but plays on the setting (the twilight of the feudal era) as well as the fact that he's not old by contemporary standards, but betting a bit old for starting over again in terms of love and swordplay. It's an interesting story for putting a man in what would typically be a story about how hard it is to be a woman: a single parent caring for children and and eldery parent while holding down a minimum-wage job. This, and the overall beauty of the film and story, reminded me very much of another Japanese drama that could have been very tragic but isnt: Miyazaki's My Neighbour Totoro. And you know, the pleasant, thoughtful experience of watching that picture was very much the same derived from The Twilight Samurai.

I cannot emphasize enough how wonderful this film is. It's profound without being oppressive or tragic, it's serious yet delightful. We got it from the library, but I look forward to adding it to our collection one of these days.