"In the old days, I used to hate farm work. I was always daydreaming, longing for victory and renown. I could think of nothing else. Now I'm tilling the fields again. Isn't it strange? I'm beginning to learn the value of life."
In this film's opening scene, we see Sasaki Kojiro (Koji Tsuruta) tell his lover (Michiko Saga) that he must fight Miyamoto Musashi for no other reason than the two of them are the best samurai in Japan. They're in a beautiful place with waterfalls streaming down and a rainbow arcing gracefully overhead as he calmly states his purpose, something which immediately begs the question, why? He is in an Eden of sorts, and yet feels compelled to fight an honorable man, unprovoked, to death.
Meanwhile we see the spiritual growth of Musashi (Toshiro Mifune) in the very next scene, when he's willing to humble himself and apologize for an offense the boy who's travelling with him has committed. He consistently makes decisions to avoid battle if at all possible, even if the other guy has it coming to him. We see it here, the first time when Sasaki catches up with him in a cemetery, and when he simply shows an ornery guy his fly catching prowess with his chopsticks to let him draw his own conclusions about continuing to provoke him.
The two of these great samurai (who were indeed real 17th century historical figures) are destined to fight one another, though Musashi puts Kojiro off for year, delaying the inevitable. Does director Hiroshi Inagaki effectively fill in the time it takes to get to the titular battle over the film's 105 minutes? Somewhat. There are bandits who must be fought off, and then there are the love interests. Both Otsu (Kaoru Yachigusa) and Akemi (Mariko Okada) are still carrying a torch for Musashi, and arrive in the rural area where he's taken up the simple life of farming. Personally I thought Akemi's character, the fallen woman who men have "made a plaything of," was muddled and added unnecessary melodrama. I think the film would have been stronger had she not been present, or shown instead fading into the ignominy of prostitution. Regardless, this third and last film in the trilogy suffers from some of the same problems its predecessors did, with the two women throwing themselves at his feet in what started to feel like filler until we got to the final battle (though I did like the resolution for Otsu).
The film is visually quite beautiful, with shots in a cemetery, reflections in the water, and walking past Mt. Fuji coming to mind. The poetry and precision of both lead actors striking samurai poses and movements should also be in that list, and nowhere is it done better than in their final battle, which brought the film full circle back to its beginning. There is something symbolic in this fight taking place out on the beach at sunset as the timeless waves gently roll in, oblivious to the human drama. Musashi recognizes it, and it's why he weeps. He weeps for the pointlessness of it, he weeps for mankind's insatiable urge to dominate or kill when it isn't necessary. His spiritual journey is complete, and he'll go back to Otsu and farming, not looking for trouble as he did so brashly at the beginning of the first film. He's enlightened, but how can we hope for humanity when there will always be another Kojiro?
In this film's opening scene, we see Sasaki Kojiro (Koji Tsuruta) tell his lover (Michiko Saga) that he must fight Miyamoto Musashi for no other reason than the two of them are the best samurai in Japan. They're in a beautiful place with waterfalls streaming down and a rainbow arcing gracefully overhead as he calmly states his purpose, something which immediately begs the question, why? He is in an Eden of sorts, and yet feels compelled to fight an honorable man, unprovoked, to death.
Meanwhile we see the spiritual growth of Musashi (Toshiro Mifune) in the very next scene, when he's willing to humble himself and apologize for an offense the boy who's travelling with him has committed. He consistently makes decisions to avoid battle if at all possible, even if the other guy has it coming to him. We see it here, the first time when Sasaki catches up with him in a cemetery, and when he simply shows an ornery guy his fly catching prowess with his chopsticks to let him draw his own conclusions about continuing to provoke him.
The two of these great samurai (who were indeed real 17th century historical figures) are destined to fight one another, though Musashi puts Kojiro off for year, delaying the inevitable. Does director Hiroshi Inagaki effectively fill in the time it takes to get to the titular battle over the film's 105 minutes? Somewhat. There are bandits who must be fought off, and then there are the love interests. Both Otsu (Kaoru Yachigusa) and Akemi (Mariko Okada) are still carrying a torch for Musashi, and arrive in the rural area where he's taken up the simple life of farming. Personally I thought Akemi's character, the fallen woman who men have "made a plaything of," was muddled and added unnecessary melodrama. I think the film would have been stronger had she not been present, or shown instead fading into the ignominy of prostitution. Regardless, this third and last film in the trilogy suffers from some of the same problems its predecessors did, with the two women throwing themselves at his feet in what started to feel like filler until we got to the final battle (though I did like the resolution for Otsu).
The film is visually quite beautiful, with shots in a cemetery, reflections in the water, and walking past Mt. Fuji coming to mind. The poetry and precision of both lead actors striking samurai poses and movements should also be in that list, and nowhere is it done better than in their final battle, which brought the film full circle back to its beginning. There is something symbolic in this fight taking place out on the beach at sunset as the timeless waves gently roll in, oblivious to the human drama. Musashi recognizes it, and it's why he weeps. He weeps for the pointlessness of it, he weeps for mankind's insatiable urge to dominate or kill when it isn't necessary. His spiritual journey is complete, and he'll go back to Otsu and farming, not looking for trouble as he did so brashly at the beginning of the first film. He's enlightened, but how can we hope for humanity when there will always be another Kojiro?