Historically Dubious, Morally Flawed

Rating: 5/10 (4 February 2004)

The power of stardom! A civil war in 1870s Japan is not, one can safely assume, a likely subject for a major Hollywood epic. The part played by Tom Cruise in a civil war in 1870s Japan? Now that's a different matter.
Cruise plays Nathan Algren, a veteran of the Civil War and Indian Wars, who has become a cynical, disillusioned alcoholic after his part in the massacre of a peaceful American Indian village. He accepts an offer from the Japanese government to train the new Japanese army in the arts of modern warfare, and becomes embroiled in a civil war fought between that army and a rebel force led by the samurai warrior Katsumoto. Although the rebels are only armed with swords and bows, they are at first more than able to hold their own against the poorly trained, inexperienced government conscripts, and in the first battle Algren is taken prisoner. He is held captive in Katsumoto's remote native village, and gradually comes to admire the samurai and their traditional way of life. So much so, in fact, that he commits himself to their cause and fights alongside them against his former comrades.
There are many good things about this film. The set-piece battle sequences are well done and much of the film is shot against spectacularly beautiful scenery (actually in New Zealand rather than Japan; after its performances here and in the `Lord of the Rings' trilogy, the New Zealand landscape deserves a special Oscar for `best newcomer'). Although Cruise tends to over-act, there are some very good acting performances, particularly from the Japanese members of the cast. Ken Watanabe brings both intelligence and dignity to his portrayal of Katsumoto, and Koyuki is luminously beautiful as Taka, the young woman whose husband is killed by Algren in battle but who later falls platonically in love with him.
The film does, however, suffer from one fatal flaw. Unless it has an overt anti-war message, a war film needs to gain the sympathies of the audience for one side or their cause. Edward Zwick clearly understood this when making his earlier excellent war films `Glory' and `Courage Under Fire', but seems to have forgotten it since. Although `The Last Samurai' obviously invites its audience to sympathise with Katsumoto and Algren, it never gives them any real reason to do so. In reality, of course, the samurai who rebelled against the Japanese government did so because they were a ruling feudal aristocracy who feared that any change in the social order would endanger their power, wealth and prestige. No such base motives, however, are ascribed to Katsumoto; instead, he seems to be motivated by a preference for the old over the modern (traditional Japanese crafts are much in evidence in his village) and a distaste for recent innovations such as railways and Western dress. (He takes his medievalism to such an extent that he even forbids his followers to use guns, although firearms had been part of the Japanese soldier's equipment ever since they were introduced by Europeans in the sixteenth century). A British parallel might be if William Morris and the Arts and Crafts movement had spearheaded an armed insurrection against Gladstone's government with a view to undoing the Industrial Revolution.
Indeed, the impression is given at times that Katsumoto is simply a rebel without a cause. Those who see death in battle as the highest honour (as he does) do not need a cause in order to fight. Much is made of the rebels' (and Algren's) sense of `honour', but no attempt is made to analyse the moral complexities of this particular concept, which can be used as the basis of an alternative morality in opposition to more orthodox ideas of right and wrong. Just as the gentlemen of eighteenth century England saw nothing wrong in fighting duels over points of honour, despite the fact that duelling was both illegal and contrary to Christian teaching, so Katsumoto uses honour to justify his bellicose lifestyle in defiance of both the laws of his country and the ideals of the Buddhist faith he nominally follows.
No doubt Katsumoto's rebellion makes sense in the context of his particular cultural background, and Algren's decision to support him makes sense in the context of his particular psychology; he hopes to atone for his crimes in the Indian wars by fighting alongside the underdogs in another war. Those of us, however, who are neither Japanese samurai nor conscience-stricken war criminals (and I suspect we will make up the majority of the audience) will have little sympathy with the rebels. My own sympathies were with the poor bloody infantry, the government conscripts killed because they stood in the way of Katsumoto's vision of Japan as a medieval theme park, and even with the leader of the government forces, the politician Omura. Although he is portrayed as corrupt and incompetent, Omura represents, however imperfectly, the nobler vision many Japanese of the period had for their country as a peaceful, prosperous constitutional monarchy.
There is a chilling ending to the film. The Emperor Meiji, hitherto portrayed as weak and indecisive, announces that in future Japan will combine Western innovations with traditional samurai values. The filmmakers present this as a posthumous triumph for Katsumoto's spirit; they seem quite unaware that it was precisely this combination of modern technology with an archaic warrior code that was to lead Japan over the next few decades to become an aggressive menace to its neighbours. Despite some good qualities, this is a historically dubious and morally flawed film which at times comes close to justifying war for war's sake. 5/10