Zatoichi the Blind Swordsman (1989)

Shintarô starred, directed and co-wrote a welcome second sayonara for his most famous character. Among other things, it’s centred around the passing of time. The first half is for people who took the full journey, all twenty-five previous films, showing how the swordsman’s life is when aged: he’s greying but still wandering. It also acknowledges the era in which it was released, being more violent than ever to please a new generation of viewers.
Some of what it attempted emotionally had been done better previously. Conversely, exploring the feelings that a son holds for a mother, opening a window into Zatoichi’s past, was handled beautifully.
Even though the extra running time allows for the character to be re-established, I don’t think it’ll have the desired effect on people who aren't long-time fans. A full appreciation requires knowledge of what came before.

3½ colourful lives out of 5

Zatoichi's Conspiracy (1973)

Film number 25 was the end of the original, unbroken run of Zatoichi films. Shintarô Katsu stayed with the character for a subsequent 100 episode TV Series (1974-79), and he came back for one last blind farewell many years later (1989), but it's here that a line can be drawn and an emotional marker laid.
The swordsman returns to his home town, a place he's not been in over twenty years, with mixed feelings in his heart. Sadness shares space with remembered joy, and old faces with new.
All happenings point towards an inevitable and familiar ending, but it's how he gets there that's important. Being who he is means it's bloody and with the best of intentions. Other than the setting, there's no real indication that all concerned knew it was to be the last. Nevertheless, as a farewell it's decent and thankfully less bleak than the few films that preceded it.

3 trust penalties out of 5

Zatoichi in Desperation (1972)

Of the Zatoichi films I’ve watched so far, Desperation, the 24th in the series, was perhaps the least enjoyable. I’d like to be able to say otherwise because it’s directed by Shintarô Katsu himself, but too many shots had the image obscured by scenery and there were too many unnecessary close-ups, which made it hard to follow the action. If you have a full 2.35:1 frame then you should strive to make the best use of it at all times.
He did his best to emphasise the difficult decision making the character has to face up to, but his methodology rubbed me the wrong way. It’s also very bleak with little room for laughter.

2½ wayward winds out of 5

Zatoichi Meets the One-Armed Swordsman (1971)

The blind swordsman's 22nd film was a crossover event that added the Chinese hero/anti-hero Fang Kang to the cast. You’d expect that to result in a Chanbara/Wuxia hybrid, but in my version the ratio is about 90:10 in favour of the Japanese technical style. The Chinese cut reportedly had more Fang Kang screen time, but I can’t find it for sale anywhere.
It’s a violent film with a cultural message that’s clear to read and an ending that leaves you with plenty to think about.

3 language barriers out of 5

Zatoichi at the Fire Festival (1970)

The blind swordsman's 21st film isn't an overly bloody affair, but there’s a fine balance of action and characterisation and even some very funny comedy during a frenetic bath house fight.
It was celebrated director Kenji Misumi’s sixth Zatoichi; he was the man that started the series eight years previously. He’s better known in the West as director of four of the Lone Wolf and Cub films.
For a series to still be this good after so many entries isn't unique to Japan but they are surely the masters at it. Most struggle after a trilogy.

3½ expensive wind chimes out of 5

Zatoichi Meets Yojimbo (1970)

In his 20th film the masseur gets nostalgic for a village in which he once found respite from the harshness of the road. However, when he gets there he discovers that a greedy yojimbo has taken up residence.
It’s not specified if it is or isn't the same yojimbo from Kurosawa’s 1961 film, so if you want to believe it is do so and don't let anyone dissuade you.
The running time is longer than usual, providing many opportunities for the two men to share screen time. That alone would be enough to satisfy fans, but there's an additional third element of danger upping the stakes.
It irked me that at times Ichi acts uncharacteristically and he uses the wrong sword, but niggles aside it’s another quality adventure.

3½ varieties of samurai out of 5

Samaritan Zatoichi (1968)

The 19th film in the series reminds us that while Ichi often goes up against them in combat, he is himself a yakuza; it’s something that he’s confessed many times in the past but that we've rarely seen evidence of. When he takes payment for a deed his code of honour demands that he carry it out.
His insistence that “sometimes it pays to be blind” rings true, although even in the darkest areas his conscience sees every movement he makes.
The comedy is less subtle than is normally the case. Either the script was written that way or Kenji Misumi shot it that way, I don’t know, but it’s an odd fit with the depth of tragedy that everything else hinges on.

3 deft cuts out of 5

Zatoichi and the Fugitives (1968)

The 18th film goes from quiet beginnings to a spectacular finale that takes place in close quarters and is one of the bloodiest of the series so far, but it doesn't neglect the slow burn and traditional moments in between.
Most of the villains, a group of yakuza who gather in a small town at the same time as Ichi arrives, are ruthless, senseless thugs led by a man who’s characterised by his biding of time and sense of caution. Their behaviour forces the blind swordsman to get his rage on to take them down. It’s such a fierce feeling that even the skies respond in kind.
It adopts a spaghetti western style in places, even musically, but the spaghettis were heavily influenced by chanbara, so it kind of works.
Takashi Shimura lends support as a kindly doctor.

4 shoulders of great men out of 5

Zatoichi Challenged (1967)

The 17th Zatoichi film has the swordsman taking on the uncle/father role again, but it doesn't tread old ground, because the circumstances surrounding the pairing are different than before.
The kid’s antics provide humour, a travelling troupe adds colour, and there’s a secondary character (Jûshirô Konoe) that could easily carry a film all by himself. He and Ichi have some powerfully tense scenes together.
The finale is superb, but that shouldn't come as any great surprise to fans.

3½ twists of fate out of 5

Zatoichi the Outlaw (1967)

The 16th Zatoichi film was the only one of the series directed by Satsuo Yamamoto. His style is noticeably different from what came before. It's busier and the world feels more populated, which isn't a bad thing, but it was unexpected. The film is also slightly longer than usual, perhaps to accommodate the lengthy passing of time that’s in the script.
Ichi’s usual good judgement fails him and he finds himself in the employ of the sort of people he usually avoids. While making amends he gets to once again display his unique shamisen skills and, of course, in the finale he exhibits his magnificent swordsmanship. During the bloodshed there's one scene in particular that had me grinning from ear to ear.

3½ crooked paths out of 5

Zatoichi's Cane Sword (1967)

In Ichi’s 15th film he's forced to give up his trusty cane sword. Without it his connection to the world and his confidence is shaken, leaving him blinder and more vulnerable than ever.
You might think a film about a Samurai with no weapon would be boring, but he still has ability, wits and a desire to be happy, so there’s still a lot to be explored. Fans of the series will have wondered before now that if being free from the blade might finally give Ichi the peace he’s long sought. The plot acknowledges that in a meaningful way.

4 barrel spins out of 5

Zatoichi's Pilgrimage (1966)

The blind swordsman’s 14th film continues to explore the self-analysis theme of the previous adventure. Ichi wants to be free of killing. He wants a path of non-violence and is fully prepared to pilgrimage to find it.
It’ll be no surprise to anyone that the request is followed by bloodshed and difficult solutions. In such matters his timing is impeccable.
It raises a number of philosophical questions. Can violence be justified when the innocent are suffering? Does doing nothing make us guilty?
The camera takes an occasional dramatic stance, but mostly it’s watchful, seeking out openness and sincerity of character.
It's an unusual entry, but one that really shouldn't be overlooked.

3½ closed shutters out of 5

Zatoichi's Vengeance (1966)

The blind swordsman’s 13th film brings us to the halfway point of the original series. It's a good time to offer up some introspection. As a catalyst for that, Ichi’s tasked with fulfilling a dying man’s wish. It isn't a new idea, but along the way he meets a blind biwa playing priest who questions the severity of the swordsman’s methods. The perspective makes Ichi more acutely aware of the consequences of his actions.
It was Dir. Tokuzô Tanaka’s third entry and he performed just as well as he had on the previous two. The sense of foreboding and the comedy that exists within it are well-balanced.

3½ sightless insights out of 5

Zatoichi and the Chess Expert (1965)

In the blind swordsman’s 12th film Ichi’s usual gambling antics get him into real trouble, which incidentally puts more than his own life in danger. The arrival of the titular Chess expert (it’s really Shogi) adds an extra level of danger to an already difficult, heartbreaking situation.
The film rewards fans that have been with the series from the beginning. It can still be enjoyed as a standalone adventure like most of the others, but if you've travelled with the masseur and shared his pain in the early days then the emotional aspect of the story will take on extra weight.

3½ tactical parallels out of 5

Zatoichi And The Doomed Man (1965)

The blind swordsman’s 11th film is a slightly better than average slice of samurai action and comedy. It uses the premise that even when Ichi goes out of his way to avoid conflict, trouble invariably finds him, which is something that we know to be true from previous entries. A secondary character is cleverly used to highlight just how funny Shintarô Katsu can be.
There’s a dramatic finale that could've been spectacular if it had been handled better, but is still pretty solid as it stands.

3 fish stories out of 5

Zatoichi's Revenge (1965)

The blind swordsman’s 10th film is unlike any that preceded it, but that doesn't automatically make it better or worse. Akira Inoue delivers a heavy-handed and voyeuristic portrayal of brothel violence that resembles a low budget western. There’s an occasional comedic moment, but mostly it’s a violent, blunt attack on the senses that was uncomfortable viewing.
There’s some wonderfully long scenes, but much of the camera work is far from complementary to the action. That kind of encroaching approach always makes me wonder what failings the director is trying to hide.
The final battle isn't one that I’ll want to revisit any time soon.

2½ cornered rats out of 5

Adventures Of Zatoichi (1964)

The 9th film returns the series to the darker side of human nature and is a lot more serious as a result. The New Year celebrations are just around the corner, but not everyone gathered in town is there to spread joy. It’s a good thing Ichi is the voice of reason (and the sword of justice).
Fans who've followed the series from the beginning will be pleased to know that we’re treated to some revealing info about Ichi’s past that's integral to the story and further deepens our understanding of his nature.

4 necessary strikes out of 5

Fight, Zatoichi, Fight (1964)

In the blind swordsman’s 8th film, Ichi's left holding the baby, literally, which is not an ideal situation for a roaming, gambling swordsman; especially when he’s being pursued by some honourless ronin.
Kenji Misumi wastes no time in setting the scene for what follows: a lot more comedy than usual. But don’t let that deter you, because it’s balanced beautifully by the correct amount of tragedy.
I'm in awe of how he can squeeze so much into his frame and still manage to have it appear spacious. He populates that openness with beauty and sadness, both inward and outward, and gives life to what's quite possibly the best written entry in the series so far.

5 improvised nappies out of 5

Zatoichi's Flashing Sword (1964)

The blind swordsman’s 7th film has Ichi paying a debt to a young woman that helped him. Whilst doing so he gets embroiled in a fight between two bosses over control of a profitable venture. It’s less complex than what’s come before, but the emotions are of the usual high standard.
There’s a lot of comedy in the first half. People try to pull a fast one on the blind guy and the blind guy attempts the same on the sighted.
It’s nice to see him get some downtime, but the simplistic story is dragged out a little too long. When the sword does begin to flash, however, Ichi cuts a forest of enemies down like they were kindling.

3 pretexts out of 5

Zatoichi and the Chest of Gold (1964)

The blind swordsman's 6th film opens in style and lets you know you’re in for something a little different this time. There are scenes that are very obviously played out on a set, but I suspect they’re deliberate. Like the opening, in those moments the setting is of less importance than what’s said or the actions taken by the cast. It’s good that they’re there, because the basic plot isn't anything new. Ichi gets wrongly accused of theft and must clear his name or face the consequences.
It was heart-warming to see him embrace music and as thrilling as always to see him share screen space with Tomisaburô Wakayama.

3½ avoidances out of 5