Samurai Rebellion (上意討ち 拝領妻始末)

  • 上意討ち 拝領妻始末 (Samurai Rebellion)

5/28/23 (Sun)

Kobayashi Masaki’s superb 1967 film is oddly titled Samurai Rebellion in English, veering significantly from the Japanese title Jo-i Uchi: Hairyo Tsuma Shimatsu (roughly Decree of Execution: Account of a Wife Bestowed [to a vassal or such by the lord]). In the film, the officials present the command with “jo-i” (official decree) clearly written on the envelope. The subtitle has been creatively translated by some, including film critic Donald Richie (who should know better), as “Receive the Wife”, with speculation that this was added by the studio as a way to attract women to a samurai drama. That seems dubious given that it was in fact the title of the source novel; it was the jo-i uchi that was added later. I imagine that the studio was simply seeking to capitalize on the novel’s success. The English title is misleading since the events are better characterized as resolute resistance to authority than outright rebellion, which implies something more active and larger scale; the samurai are not seeking to overturn the system but to resist the unjust pressure on their family. That is, the English emphasizes the courage of the samurai, while the Japanese refers to the unfairness of the rulers.

Isaburo (Mifune Toshiro), a mounted guardsman serving the Matsudaira clan in Aizu, is unexpectedly visited by the authorities and ordered to accept the daimyo’s ex-mistress Ichi (Tsukasa Yoko) as his son’s wife. She has apparently earned the lord’s displeasure but, as mother of the daimyo’s second son, must be treated properly, and Isaburo’s son Yogoro (Kato Go) is seen as an appropriate match. Isaburo, himself in an unhappy forced marriage, is appalled by the idea of taking in a woman discarded by another, especially one who has already borne a child. He flatly refuses, deflecting them by saying he is unworthy. The shocked emissaries tell him firmly that it is an honor to have been selected and advise him strongly to accept. Ultimately, he gives in to heavy pressure, including that of his ambitious wife.

Ichi turns out to be a dream wife and daughter-in-law in every way, and she and the son fall deeply in love. The father’s immense pleasure is heightened by the birth of a granddaughter. The family’s happiness proves brief, however, as the authorities return. They report that the daimyo’s eldest son has died, making the second son the heir to the clan. As Ichi is now the future daimyo’s mother, the authorities have come to take her back. Her circumstances or thoughts on the matter are irrelevant to them; the order is absolute, and they fully expect the family to obey.

This sets off a powerful battle of wills between the emissaries, who offer a mixture of promises and none-too-subtle threats, and Isagoro, who has reached the breaking point. Beyond the love for his family, he is disgusted by the indifference of the government to simple humanity and is no longer willing to play the game. He throws them out and, despite the very real danger to his household and the pleas of his wife and slimy second son, resolves to resist, backed by his equally determined eldest son and daughter-in-law. The battle intensifies when the regime kidnaps Ishi, setting off a spiral of death and destruction as Isaburo faces down legions of government forces. In the end, Isaburo takes to the road to Edo to report the situation to the shogun himself. At the border, he meets his old friend Tatewaki (Nakadai Tatsuya), who serves as border guard. Tatewaki had earlier refused orders to kill his friend on the excuse that he is not authorized to do so in his low position, using the rules to his advantage. Now, however, his adherence to the regulations trap him, as he must defend his post. He begs Isaburo to lose to him as the only way to protect the latter’s household. Isaburo, however, is in no mood to back down now, and they engage in a final showdown.

The swordplay implied by the English title comes only toward the film’s end, and proves less stylized and more brutally real than most chambara films. The emphasis in the film is the intense psychological pressure on Isaburo to conform to society’s rules, regardless of how cruel, and his passionate resistance. His awakening comes from a love he never knew in his own frosty marriage, as he tells his eldest son:

“In order to prove myself, for these past 20 years I have fought only to preserve our good name and social standing. So why am I so obstinate now? The cruel injustice involved, for one thing. But your beautiful love for each other has touched me most of all.”

Having been pushed to the wall, he sees the greater good as standing true to his principles and is determined to go down fighting. He is clearly aware of the odds: he dismantles his home, dismisses his servants, and pulls up the tatami, explaining drily that it is “so our feet won’t slip in the blood”. Nevertheless, he says to his second son, “Tell everyone this for me: I, Isaburo Sasahara, in all my life have never felt more alive than I do now.”

The film is an uncompromising look not only at the evils of an inhuman rule-bound regime but at the forces that make it easier to go along than resist. The director pursues his much-loved theme of “the individual against society” while at the same time showing in great detail the kind of society the hero is fighting against. It is exceptionally well written and constructed, building carefully to the climactic fighting, and boasts vivid characterizations and meticulous staging. Isaburo’s transformation from timid acceptance to tenacious defiance is Shakespearian, helped by Mifune’s monumental performance. His fury toward the end feels frighteningly real. Kato, Tsukasa and Nakadai all turn in solid work in an all-around fantastic cast. I’m not sure if it’s right to describe this as a chambara film given the lack of sword fighting until the final section, but it’s certainly one of the best samurai films ever. A classic.

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