Akira Kurosawa's Sanjuro: Floating Flowers and a Slicing Sword

Sanjuro was my first foreign film, my first samurai film, and my first Kurosawa film. When I watched in it on PBS in the early 1970s, I’m not sure if I even knew who Akira Kurosawa was (but suspect I soon learned). I found Sanjuro charming, intriguing, and mesmerizing. Each time I watch it again, I’m reminded of that unique blend of qualities. Although I admire the more critically-acclaimed Kurosawa films such as The Seven Samurai and The Hidden Fortress, none of them has toppled Sanjuro as my favorite.

The plot bares a passing resemblance to The Seven Samurai, in which a village hires down-on-their-luck samurai to protect them from marauding outlaws. In Sanjuro, a group of young men are joined by a wandering samurai in their quest to oust a corrupt official from power. Sanjuro Tsubaki (Mifune) is a reluctant hero, though. After eavesdropping on the young men discussing their village’s problems, he emerges only to offer advice (“They say outsiders can be good judges”). However, after learning that the youngsters can’t take care of themselves, he agrees to help.

The young men and the villain’s henchmen quickly learn that the disheveled, yawning, perpetually-scratching Sanjuro is a force to be reckoned with. Although a master swordsman capable of single-handedly defeating a horde of bad guys, Tsubaki’s greatest strength lies in his shrewdness. He uncovers that the “good” superintendent and the “bad” chamberlain are just the opposite—it’s the superintendent who has been taking graft and plotting a takeover.

Unlike many bloody samurai films, Sanjuro balances the swordplay with humor and charm. An old lady chastises the veteran warrior Tsubaki, warning him that “killing is a bad habit.” The cynical Tsubaki, who admits allegiance to no one, develops a fondness for the young men he’s helping.

Mifune has a field day in the title role. A film critic once pointed out that John Belushi’s “Saturday Night Live” samurai character was obviously patterned after Mifune’s performance in Sanjuro. He may be right; it’s hard to watch one and not think of the other. It also highlights that Mifune was a fine comedian as well as an action hero.

Kurosawa’s direction is seamless, flowing effortlessly from kinetic (as in the swordfights) to poetic (camelia blossoms flowing down a creek). The final showdown between Tsubaki and another samurai (whom he respects) is stunning in its efficiency and shock value.

I find it interesting that many of Kurosawa’s films have been adapted for American and European audiences. The Seven Samurai was remade as The Magnificent Seven (and other films); Yojimbo became A Fistful of Dollars; George Lucas even says that Star Wars was inspired by The Hidden Fortress. But no one has remade Sanjuro—perhaps indicating that it truly is a one-of-kind samurai picture.