|
|
 |
|
Consistently voted one of the greatest films of all time, THE SEVEN SAMURAI comes to us in a recently struck, newly translated and subtitled print of the full-length version. Kurosawa's tumultuous tale of seven masterless warriors hired by peasants to defend their village from pillaging bandits in sixteenth-century Japan must be seen on the big screen to appreciate the full exhilarating force of its visual and narrative power. The compositions and action sequences have renewed elemental force, and the new translation restores the earthy tang of the dialogue that previous subtitles had refined.
Kurosawa achieves epic grandeur with a stately sense of structure (the film is divided into three parts), rich historical detail, Shakespearean sequences of low comedy and barbaric violence, and roiling narrative force. The battles are choreographed as surging spectacle, particularly the final rout in the rice fields in slashing rain. Kurosawa uses an arsenal of visual effects: slow motion, wild tracking shots, abrupt close-ups, and telephoto shooting, which all but thrusts the audience into the mud, crush, and struggle of the war scenes. (The film has been copied many times but its formal mastery has never been equalled.) Kurosawa paces his epic with contrasting moments of grace and rage, silence and tumult, and gives it propulsive rhythm with such old-fashioned devices as hard wipes and depictive music (weird oboe, choral chants, kettle drum). His dense, muscular compositions can hardly contain the volatile performance of Toshiro Typhoon, whose scenery chewing in the early sequences imperils the surrounding rice paddies more than it does the marauders. Mifune's modulation from manic to tragic is one of the great achievements of his career. “SEVEN SAMURAI is much more than thrilling entertainment. Like all truly great films, it is rich in character, exquisitely structured, technically adroit. . . .
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|