Harakiri, Part 2

Celebrating the 55^th Anniversary of Harakiri (1962)

Last time, I have started discussing Masaki Kobayashi and his masterpiece, Harakiri (Seppuku, 1962). The story of the courageous and lone samurai, Hanshiro Tsugumo, and his attempt to avenge for and regain his family’s honor by exposing the hypocrisy of the samurai clan, House of Iyi, serves as one of the most inspiring story regarding the power of individual in the history of cinema. The major themes in ‘Harakiri’ are about the individual’s place in an amoral universe; the contempt for the corruption of power and establishment; and the hope for ultimate freedom.

Kobayashi has adopted a formalized approach regarding the mise-en-scene of ‘Harakiri’. The geometric composition in many scenes stressed the power struggle and containment of individual freedom in the feudal era, and the symmetric and regimented approach to the diverse rooms (the spatial aspect) and human interactions in the House of Iyi illustrated the mechanistic and deterministic actions demanded by the philosophy of the samurai. The use of composition to provide critique on Bushido has also been employed by other directors nicely in the Samurai cinema of 1960s, such as those in Kihachi Okamoto’s anti-Samurai films. When we look at films like ‘The Sword of Doom’ and ‘Samurai Assassins’, the symmetric composition exposed the struggle of individual in the realm of feudal control, and the dehumanizing effects from a set of pre-determined and ritualistic rules.

‘Harakiri’ was also notable for the use of close up to show facial expressions. Especially in ‘Harakiri’, Kobayashi’s use of facial expression has found his true power. These close-up shots are the only time when the characters are showing their true feelings. With such a close-up, the character can no longer hide behind their masks. The humiliation and anger of Hanshiro, the disappointment of Miho, the fright of Omadaka (the swordsman), and the shame of the clan leader. At the key moments, Kobayashi did not let any of these sentiments escape the audience. After, Kobayashi is a committed humanist, and no matter how dehumanized or old-fashioned the characters have come to be, they are all humans after all, and can in no way escape the character traits so evident in humanity.

‘The suspicious mind conjures its own demons.’

The narrative of ‘Harakiri’ not only makes the story suspenseful and intense, it also serves the purpose to illustrate some of the deepest truths regarding human nature and history. 'Harakiri' has been noted for its frequent use of flashbacks, and it also had plenty of ellipsis throughout the film. The presence of ellipsis gave a ‘Rashomonic feel’ to the film, because now it was rather hard for the audience to cast an objective point of view on the whole situation. I suppose Kobayashi did this deliberately, as a satirical critique on truth and history. He seemed to be questioning the audience, who has the power for the final word about the story, and indeed history? Is that the one who has the point, or the one who has the power?

What was rather ironic was the cyclic structure of the film. That suggested even in Hanshiro's perspective, this incident was a significant one - significant that it would have cost his life, the House of Iyi wanted to see it as the most minor perturbation The cyclic s in its order, or the whole Bushido system was concerned. The structure of the story wanted to give the audience an ironic impression that as if nothing has happened at all – House of Iyi wants to undermine the significance of the Hanshiro incident because that will be a big shame.

‘Swordsmanship untested in battle is like the art of swimming mastered on land.’

The House of Iyi, for which Hanshiro was all against, was the abstraction of power and authority in the film. It represented establishment and foundation, and the bureaucratic sides. Also, it represented the 'norm' of the given era, when feudalism and Bushido was still the core values for the people. The bureaucratic aspect meant that the members of the House of Iyi had to work in a mechanistic way, and they could not show much compassion as that would be against the Bushido codes that governed them. They talked in a monotone style, they were matter of fact people, and their words were polished with 'ceremonial' wordings. Their actions were merely to guarantee that everything was working all right, without any infringements to the samurai codes. By contrast, what Hanshiro has said was originated from a genuine emotion. He was able to provide critique on the situation, and was more than willing to question the assumptions behind the House of Iyi’s actions. A stark contrast was effectively established between the two parties – the human, spontaneous Hanshiro and the unsentimental, mechanistic retainers in the House of Iyi.

The most elemental moral dilemma, in many samurai films, is the giri vs ninjo conflict. Giri (義理 ) is a value which corresponded to duty and obligation, in contrast to ninjo (人情), a value which pointed to emotion and human compassion. This contradiction was further amplified in the anti samurai films of the 1960s, which matched the anti establishment and revolutionary mindset of that time. The struggle between giri and ninjo is not something limited to samurai culture, but can find similar scenarios in almost any cultures of humanity - the dialectic between animalistic instinct and institutionalized rationality. Many of these film directors believed that the demands from giri and ninjo could often not be reconciled in many cases - meaning that there will be a cost no matter which sides you take. The mechanical rules dictated by Bushido could be dehumanizing and stifling for the personal freedom of individuals. These rules could be dehumanizing because they employ noble ‘sound bites’ which are ultimately empty statements.

‘I clung to these useless symbols’

The chilling aspect of these codes was that it could serve a synergistic relationship with the institutional control, especially one based on a hierarchical structure, such as the feudal society as illustrated in the film, and one should not be surprised that rules itself treasured utmost loyalty. What it seemed as a commitment to a set of formalized codes at the surface could just be the assertion of power by the ruling class in reality. The codes have to be complemented and made concrete by the use of symbols, such as the samurai sword or the special hair knot the samurai had. It would be ridiculous for people in the modern world to see how these material things could impact the life of the people, and how they equated these things to elemental concepts like honor. When you lose a sword that means you have lost your honor and will have to commit hara-kiri to redeem yourself - absolutely outrageous logic for nowadays. When the senior in the House of You asked Motome how he could pawn his sword to allow himself and his family to survive, because the sword symbolized the soul of the samurai, one can see how inconsiderate this senior is. Maybe he was just being mean and mocked Motome for his action, yet it could also mean the House has become so bureaucratic and dehumanized through their execution of the Bushido codes.

I have stressed repeatedly in the last article that there is nothing fundamentally wrong about the core values Bushido represented. In fact, if one is willing to commit to it, that can have an enlightening effect and make one more confident and a better person. What is essential, though, is to appreciate why these codes existed in the first place (I can see a similarity in the case of Confucian philosophy in Chinese culture) and the context where these codes may be misused and how that can lead to a lower personal freedom and dignity.  What it means to be enlightened, after all, is not just to embrace blindly a theory or postulate, but you have the ability and question or provide critique on it, to dig deeper and discover the possible limits...

‘This thing we call samurai honor is ultimately nothing but a façade.’

The most important symbolism in the film was the samurai statue, which has appeared a number of times, including the opening and closing shot for the film. The incidents that have been happened to the statue through the film, and the actions taken to restore the statue matched nicely with the cyclic nature of the story. The statue represented the history and legacy of the House of Iyi, and it embodied the rules of Bushido that governed and established the existence of the House of Iyi. That explained why before Hanshiro committed hara-kiri before he has defeated most of the retainers in the House of You, he threw off the samurai statue, as an ultimate stand off to the establishment and the values the statue represented. After Hanshiro died, the irony was that the members in the House merely cleaned up the mess and the blood stains, and erected the fallen statue again, at the same time fabricated the feel good version of the story that they were still the winner in the struggle against the lone samurai.

The gist regarding the symbol of the statue is that it is hollow. The hollowness symbolized the inherent emptiness of the Bushido rules. No matter how idealistic or enlightening the rules might afford, someone has to be committed to ‘fit in’ to give its meanings. If the powerful ones distorted the meanings of the rules to merely assert their positions, the ideas and rules itself would lose its meanings, and they become tools - blank statements that could not be enacted. The members in the House of Iyi, while being proud of their prestigious status in the samurai community, were not capable of committing to these rules. Because they could not come to terms that there was a ‘fallen’ samurai, who they thought was of a lower status than them, could defeat the retainers in the House and was also nobler as a human being than themselves. The members in the House could only restore their confidence and honor by covering up the whole incident, and distorting what really has happened in that fateful day. They were so desperate to assert their prestige through deception to the later generations, because they were so ashamed of the awful truth that has occurred to them.

‘What befalls others today, may be your own fate tomorrow.’

The emptiness of the samurai statue also reflected the ephemeral existence of the House of Iyi, and it was atmospheric to the presence of some unexplained smoke at the scene of the statue. It was evident that the House of Iyi did not exist due to a moral or universal reason, but it only prospered in the circumstantial way, when the given era endorsed the Bushido culture. It was ironic to hear at the end of the film that when the senior attempted to distort history in the book for the House, he stated that he believed the House of Iyi would continue to exist for the many years to come. Of course, the reality is the other way around – the samurai clans were abolished by the end of the 19^th century, when a modernized Japan was born.  The ‘success story’ of the House of Iyi was a circumstantial and superficial one, and it could not inspire any later generations in a positive way. Only an individual with genuine honor has the ability to do so.

‘The greatest delicacies taste of nothing when one dines alone.’

After all, what does honor truly mean? First, it is not merely a barrage of blank statements. If one believes that by adopting to a set of empty rules without questioning their meanings, these individual are robots, not honorable persons. You have to commit and take action to be honorable. No matter how good you can recite out every rules you can remember, it will not work if you are not committed to these rules. The most challenging aspect, though, is to maintain a sense of individualism, even when the others fail to deliver or does not have the courage to do so. Some viewers may see Hanshiro’s action as foolish, because no matter what he did, he would not be able to abolish the samurai era and change his world. If he did not raise voices about the situation, he could still have other ways to survive. After all, Hanshiro was one of the only characters in the film who was willing to commit to what he has said – when he said he would commit hara-kiri, he really did it, rather than like the 2 other samurais in the House of Iyi, who ran away and hide after they have lost the duels to Hanshiro. The suicide decision was Hanshiro’s individual choice, no matter you agreed to that or not, it was still respectable. The reason why Hanshiro was a noble individual, even if his House has fallen long ago and he became a ronin, was because he was willing to stand up to the unfairness and problems the Bushido culture has led to, and has the courage to deconstruct the gaps in the logic behind Bushido. He refused to be dehumanized by the social / cultural machine and asserted his individualism in a world when loyalty and a fake sense of ‘community’ and ‘group work’ was stressed. I see Hanshiro as a heroic and honorable figure because he addressed the saying of ‘dying on our feet rather than living on our knees’. The very fact that Hanshiro stood firm to his beliefs at all costs was what made him such a memorable character, and ‘Harakiri’ (1962) a modern classic in Asian cinema.

-End-

(2/2)

by Ed Law

4/12/2017

Film Analysis

Harakiri, Part 1

It is easy to boast what you believe in, yet at what cost are you willing to commit to that? If the consequence of doing this will lead to your own destruction, will you still stick to any of these beliefs? With a solitary existence, do you have the courage to stand up to the waves of corruption, and the army of hypocrisy that are so inherent in the world you exist in? These are the questions that are addressed in ‘Seppuku’ (also known as ‘Harakiri’, 1962), the absolutely wonderful film by the Japanese director Masaki Kobayashi!

‘Harakiri’ is a timeless classic, and I can say its power can be considered on equal terms with any of the greatest Kurosawa classics. The film won the Special Jury Prize in the Cannes festival, and it has inspired a number of subsequent directors. Famed for its extreme dramatic intensity, ‘Harakiri’ concerns the final day of the elder ronin Hanshiro Tsugumo’s life, and his attempt to regain the honor of his family at a corrupt clan known as the House of Iyi. The melancholy in the story is almost comparable to any Shakespearean or Greek tragedies, and its universal relevance to our existence makes it one of the most wonderful human dramas in world cinema. Through a memorable performance by the smashing actor Tatsuya Nakadai as Hanshiro, the film has inspired us to have the courage to fight against injustice and to stand firm on what we believe in, no matter what the cost may be, or how insignificant the power of a individual is. Since I first watched ‘Harakiri’ in my teenage years, it has always been a moving film to me, and it has the honor to be my favourite non-Kurosawa (!!) Asian film of all time. I have always reminded myself that, if I will be writing about cinema one day, I will definitely write about ‘Harakiri’. I suppose this is a ‘matter of honor’ issue here!

Before we look into the film, I suppose I need to say a few words about the 2 traditional concepts – ‘Bushido’ and ‘Seppuku / Harakiri’. While many of the films in the 1960s tend to be critical about the traditional Bushido code (‘The Way of the Warrior’), I personally do not find to be harsh towards Bushido. Indeed, I feel that many of the codes in Bushido are still highly applicable ( I have often wondered if a bushido for writing is possible?!), and they can really help us to improve ourselves, and become a greater guy. Yet, just like any rules, we have to understand the context these codes are based on, and the reason why these codes exist in first place. I suppose Kobayashi-san’s intention in ‘Harakiri’ is to show the dark side of bushido, the other side of the story. Even if you find yourselves more inclined to this revisionist stance, it does not mean that one has to discredit, for example, Kurosawa’s ‘Seven Samurai’. Only by understanding both the good and the bad sides of the code, one will really be able to have a holistic view of the whole issue.

Seppuku (or Harakiri), on the other hand, is something more hard to appreciate. Harakiri literally means stomach disembowelment, and this practice is seen as a honorable suicide by the samurai class, a way to redeem one’s honor. The act is often done in a ceremonial manner, and it starts by the samurai doing the hara-kiri, and then it is followed by the decapitation administered by a second member, which is known as . This is done as to give the a quick kill. Now, viewing it from a modern perspective, this act seems a bit unthinkable (or even silly). As a fan of B-movies, I can quote a few examples that can put things into context. Take Rocky III – if Mr. T has defeated Rocky at the first match, does that mean Rocky has to stroll back to little Italy and kill himself? No, as David Sloane from Kickboxer 4 told his nasty nemesis Tong Po, ‘you just have to beat me in a match and regain your honor’, to avoid further shame. It is the ‘I’ll be back’ logic that governs all these macho b-s, or sugar-coated in a way, the ‘matter of honor’ thing. To regain honor, you need to do is to defeat your opponent in a rematch, as simple as that. Why would the samurai prefer death rather than dishonor? I feel it is rather tough to access to this ancient mind-set, though we can have some insights when we try to link up all these ideas in the next article. Anyway, the easy way out is to appreciate that, in Kobayashi’s film, the very act of Harakiri is an acid test to see one is honorable or not.  Through their differing attitudes towards the act of Harakiri, we can easily see the ones who can truly commit to their own beliefs, in a situation where almost everyone apparently states that these codes and beliefs are ‘important’ to their own samurai existences.

Hanshiro Tsugumo (Tatsuya Nakadai), an elder ronin, arrived at the House of Iyi, a samurai clan, in a particular afternoon in 1630. There, he requested for a place to commit a honorable suicide. The elder clansman, Saito, invited him for a brief chat. Saito asked whether Hanshiro knew a younger ronin, known as Motome Chijiwa, as they both seemed to serve at the same clan years ago. Hanshiro seemed to have no idea who this Chijiwa was. Saito, stating this was of minor importance, continued with a story about this young ronin.

Chijiwa, like Hanshiro, actually came to Iyi some time ago, and also begged fior a place to commit hara-kiri. The clansmen in Iyi discussed the issue, and some of them believed that Chijiwa’s true intention was to bluff them, and asked for money in return, or even a position in the samurai clan. Hikokuro Omodaka (Tetsuro Tamba), a senior retainer, suggested that they should force Chijiwa to commit Harakiri, so as to serve as an example to those who might have these intentions in the future. Chijiwa, with no clear idea what his action might lead himself to, was absolutely surprised when they allowed and insisted him to commit hara-kiri on spot, and it was all too late for him to step off. Before the hara-kiri ceremony, the clansmen in Iyi were thrilled to discover Chijiwa did not even have a real samurai sword – all he had was a sword made from bamboo. The members of Iyi asked Chijiwa to commit hara-kiri anyway, by using his bamboo sword. Since the bamboo sword was pretty blunt, it made the whole experience far more slow and painful, and Chijiwa died with ultimate dis-honor.

After telling the story, Saito asked Hanshiro if he had any second thoughts. Hanshiro insisted he would do it, and urged the members in the house to prepare for the ceremony. He even stated that he would not change into the light-colored hara-kiri clothing, stating that his dark attire suited the situation appropriately. Before the ceremony started, Hanshiro had to nominate for a second who would do the for him. Hanshiro suggested 3 names, yet interestingly, they were all absent. Hanshiro insisted he would like to have either one of these members to do , so men were asked to fetch them. In order to pass time, Hanshiro decided to tell the House of Iyi his life story, because, ‘What befalls others today, may be your own fate tomorrow.’.

To everyone’s surprise, Hanshiro did have slight acquirancce with Motome Chijiwa. Motome was actually Hanshiro’s son in law, and he was the son of Hanshiro’s close friend. Motome married Hanshiro’s daughter, Miho, and they had a child together. However, after the dissolution of their clan, Hanshiro and Motome could not find any jobs in the harsh world. It was a time of peace, and many samurai clans were abolished and the samurais could not find many opportunities. Hanshiro and Motome could earn for a meager living, yet when Miho and the child were sick, things went like a downward spiral. With no money to buy medicine, Motome had to go as far to pawn his real samurai sword in exchange for money. It was then he went to the House of Iyi to look for opportunities, but this sowed the seeds for his demise. When the corpse of Motome was delivered back to Hanshiro and Miho, he was more than horrified to see the bamboo sword, and felt truly dis-honored by such an act. Soon after, Miho and succumbed to their illness and passed away. How, Hanshiro was alone, and he realized the Bushido code would never be able to provide any justice to the vulnerable one...

Hanshiro blamed Saito and the clansmen for the decision to kill Motome in such a manner, yet Saito insisted that they have done nothing wrong and denied any responsibilities. Knowing that he would not be able to change their opinions, Hanshiro announced that he was ready to join his family in another world. Before that, he decided to show them ‘one last thing’. They were the headknots of the 3 absent samurais!

Now, Hanshiro told the clansmen that, he has already taken action. He stalked down the first two samurais and challenged them to duel. Of course, Hanshiro defeated both of them easily.

Hikokuro, knowing about Hanshiro’s ordeal, came to his house and challenged him to a duel. Though Hikokuro was a skillful swordmen, he had no real war experience like Hanshiro. As Hanshiro commented, ‘Swordsmanship untested in battle is like the art of swimming mastered on land.’ Eventually, Hanshiro defeated Hikokuro.

Hanshiro insinuated that, while the House of Iyi claimed that they followed Bushido, their 3 skillful retainers were so coward to even come back when they have lost the duel. Consumed with shame, Saito could only wipe out Hanshiro for good. He ordered the clansmen to kill Hanshiro, and a wonderful showdown started, which could only been described in images.

After turning Iyi upside down, Hanshiro committed an anti-establishment act (that’s movie in the 60s) – he threw the samurai statue on the floor. And, as he has promised, Hanshiro committed hara-kiri. However, to avoid further shame, gunmen were sent in and Hanshiro was gunned down as a result. After a messy afternoon, the House of Iyi has taken action to set things right. They ordered the 3 clansmen to commit hara-kiri, and then they cleaned up the house, and re-erected the samurai statue. For the record, they fabricated the whole story as an honorable suicide, and of course skipped out the shameful part. After that, it seemed nothing has happened at all, and the House of Iyi was still standing. The clansmen might try hard to forget Hanshiro, yet, for the audience, we will always remember how a courageous and wonderful man he was.

(1/2)

by Ed Law

6/11/2017

Film Analysis