Watanabe the warrior-poet, a man of conservation... and conversations...

Rating: 8/10 (8 November 2019)

In Kurosawa movies, what characterized Samurais was that were both men of action and men from a bygone time as if fighting could only draw the future with the ink of the past. Samurais were the last embodiments of a heritage whose relevance was fading at the dawn of modernity. Maybe that awareness forged their resignation for death for only dishonor they feared. The men lived and perished by the sword, whomever it came from.
But remember in "Seven Samurai", four of the warriors fell under fired bullets, deaths that actually dishonored the enemy but also marked the beginning of the end. In "The Last Samurai", it's not a few bullets but gatling guns that annihilate the glorious but suicidal ride of the last Shogun warriors, including their leader Katsumoto, played by Ken Watanabe, a composite of many historical figures; supposedly the last Samurai. Still, the film has no pretension to be true to history, but to a philosophy that forged Japan's history for centuries and that more or less prevailed even after the reforms.
"The Last Samurai" was directed by Edward Zwick, the name might not ring a bell, he was the director of "Glory" in 1989. And as much as "Glory" wasn't about fighting in the Civil War but the idea of fighting for a cause worth dying for, "The Last Samurai" also questions the virtues of fighting by confronting two different approaches of warfare, two philosophies of life. It does so with such a contemplative patience that we realize the Western and Oriental civilizations have a lot in common. Or might it be that every civilization built its definition of honor in a way that only a battlefield could give that abstract word its fullest meaning? Is it a blessing or a curse, history provides arguments for both sides, but where does the film stand?
It's interesting that the most riveting scenes in the film involve sacrifices, as to show that there was a greater nobility in losing for a just cause than winning. But the film's hero Nathan Algren, Civil War and Indian wars veteran, doesn't start with that mindset. He survived the infamous Little Big Horn massacre and saw Custer's madness killing thousands of Natives. Yet for all the atrocities Algren witnessed, maybe what he resented was the idea that men like Custer were capable to draw other men to their cause in all blind loyalty, history would prove that good causes didn't have the monopoly of sacrifices. and that's a thought-provoking issue the film raises.
Ironically, when Algren tells Katsumoto that Custer was "a murderer who fell in love with his own legend. And his troopers died for it.", the warrior-poet responds it's a "very good death". The Samurai is so impregnated by the idea of dying rather than living in shame that anyone accepting the necessity of death is worth admiration. That's not exactly how winning is done but when you follow Katsumoto, you find out life isn't about the cause but about its guidance to find your own truth. When we first see Algren, he's an alcoholic, bitter and war-weary man, channeling a 'Ron Kovic' version of the Civil War vet but later, after a long immersion into the traditional Japan, he gains wisdom and a deeper and more balanced vision of things.
The film takes place in 1878, during the Meiji era that turned the old feudal Japan into an industrialized country and an Imperialist nation in the turn of the century. The young Emperor (Shichinosuke Nakamura) is confronted to a rebellion from Samurais who reject the new order for the nation's own good though Katsumoto would die for the Emperor if he ordered him so. Japan seeks help from the U.S. Army and so Algren can leave his existential dead-end and train the fresh new Japanese troops under the supervision of Captain Bagley (Tony Goldwyn) his previous commanding officer, a wannabe Custer who despises the savagery of the Orient as much as he did with Natives. He finds an ally in Omura (Masata Harado), a wealthy Westernized industrial and corrupt bureaucrat who takes advantage from the Emperor's age to influence his decisions and allow the U.S artillery to wipe out the Samurai rebellion.
So the film is driven by two contrasting moves: Japanese politicians emulating the Western world, and Algren rediscovering the Japanese tradition and within it a salvation for his own soul, as if he could exorcise the very demons that stained America's history and march toward progress, the very one that inspired the Meiji. He owes his survival for his tenacity during a one-to-one fight, won in-extremis, raising the interest of Katsumoto who wants to study the stranger. Watanebe was rightfully Oscar-nominated for a quiet but intense performance as a man in constant quest for truth, not victory, a righteous man who'd die with honor in a lost battle against the tides of history.
The film is filled with spectacular fighting sequences but is at its most absorbing during the quiet and introspective moments, when we see Algren's gradual immersion into Japan's roots, learning the language and the art of Kendo, befriending Katsumoto's son, falling in love with his sister Taka (the beautiful Koyuki Kato) whom husband he killed and in an honorable duel. The film doesn't overplay the nobility and righteousness of the Japanese and makes Katsumoto an accessible fellow, with wit and humor, and his 'conversations' with Cruise provide the best moments and raise intriguing but deep philosophical questions about fights and causes.
Near the end, the film seems to give in to Hollywood spectacle requirements, the only aspect Roger Ebert criticized but I don't think it ever betrayed the film's soul. And it's not in every movie that you see soldiers respectfully bowing down to the fighters they just killed as if deep inside, they knew it was a page of history that was just turned, and turned Japan to a modern country with all the best to come... and the worst, too.