A chill wind grazes the lord’s back, sending another shiver through him, just like the one he felt finding this dead body in his home. The unsettling image makes it impossible for any rationality to take hold of his mind. A pool of blood fills his guest room, but no murder weapon has been found, nor is there any evidence of a struggle or an escape. In this moment, the most frightening truth is that this gruesome and mysterious murder pales in comparison to the threat that looms just outside the walls of his home.
That is just a taste of The Samurai and the Prisoner, the latest film from Kiyoshi Kurosawa, a 16th century murder mystery drama set in medieval Japan. For an iconic director known for his horror outings such as Cure, Seance, and Pulse, Kurosawa’s new film is a fascinating outlier that shows the director’s talents in a much different light. As someone who has been wanting to dive deep into Kurosawa’s filmography for a while now, I was absolutely hooked by this film from the first trailer when it dropped in late June. With more than four decades under his belt as a director dealing primarily in esoteric horror, what does Kurosawa now bring to a seemingly straightforward samurai drama?
The film follows Lord Murashige Araki (Masahiro Motoki) as he holes up in his castle after making a stand against warlord Nobunaga Oda. As an act of rebellion, Araki imprisons Oda’s strategist Kanbei Kuroda (Masaki Suda) after denying Kanbei’s request to concede to the warlord. In the process of making preparations for their next move, an unthinkable tragedy befalls Araki’s castle: someone is murdered with no clear witness or suspect in sight. With conjecture piling up and paranoid pressure mounting, Araki has no choice but to confer with the imprisoned Kanbei for guidance.
Will the prisoner be able to help the lord solve the murder? If the murderer is apprehended, will it be enough to ease Araki’s uneasy feelings as Oda closes in on him?
The most eye-catching choice Kurosawa makes at the outset is the film’s visual direction and color grading. When I saw the trailer initially, I genuinely thought the film was a lost work that Janus Films was restoring. The film uses beautiful, muted colors to evoke not only an era centuries past but also a bygone era of cinema when samurai films were meticulous and gorgeous with naturalistic palettes, and deliberately slow to evoke the feeling of watching a four-act stage drama live in your movie theater. With a subtle score by Yoshihiro Hanno and Yasuyuki Sasaki’s impeccable cinematography, Kurosawa paints an elegant and striking picture that amplifies the mystery at hand.
The film’s stark visual clarity allows the lead performance to shine as the mysteries deepen. Motoki is an incredible guiding light for the film, bringing strength, vulnerability, and quiet fear to a beloved lord who cannot help but fight for a way of thinking diametrically opposed to Oda’s tyrannical methods. Even with the support of a talented ensemble, the narrative’s weight rests on the shoulders of its lead. Thankfully, Motoki is up to the task, bringing Araki to life with such confidence that he ought to be a name in this year’s awards conversations.
There are certain characters I wish I would’ve gotten more time with by the film’s finale, such as Kanbei and Chiyoho (Yuriko Yoshitaka), whose arcs add meaningful depth to Araki’s. Even the minor characters in the ensemble do a wonderful job reinforcing Araki’s renowned status among his people when he’s at a loss during the investigation. Characters with as few five lines have staying power in this quickly rotating ensemble; the world of The Samurai and the Prisoner feels alive.
The most surprising part of the film is its dedication to the political landscape of the era. I expected the setup of Araki’s relationship to Nobunaga Oda to take a backseat once the mystery began. However, the politics surrounding Araki’s castle lead to the best conversations and most emotional moments in the entire film. From blooming strategies for a hopeful resistance to the uneasy conflict between the Buddhists and Christians in Araki’s care, The Samurai and the Prisoner does a superb job of compounding the complications of Araki’s decision to rebel against Oda with each passing season. It’s a film that grabs you with its mysterious murder but ultimately keeps you engrossed as the political and moral beliefs begin to unfold amongst Araki and his subjects.
As impressive as it is, the film does fall short of perfection. It’s held back by a predictable story structure, a pace that periodically drags, and a surprisingly overwhelming finale.
Flaws and all, The Samurai and the Prisoner is a great slow burn that made me immediately want to catch it again in a theater with an audience. Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s period murder mystery is confident, entertaining, and reminiscent of earlier samurai cinema without feeling like a pastiche. It’s a lovely surprise of throwback cinema from one of Japan’s foremost modern directors.
Freelance writer out of Indianapolis. Co-host of Odd Trilogies podcast. Whether it's films or television, I'm always down to watch!