KWAIDAN [1964]

aka Kaidan

Masaki Kobayashi, director of The Human Condition trilogy, adapts four ancient Japanese folktales for the ghost story anthology Kwaidan.
A segment for each season of the year, (Hoichi the Earless being my favorite) focuses on victims both innocent and deserving of their ghostly punishments.
After a ridiculously poor DVD release, Criterion gave it a proper blu-ray release in 2015 that did wonders for it's striking visuals that are rich in color, texture and framing.  The theatrical sets are beautifully designed with gorgeously painted backdrops that all give it a fable-like aesthetic that  accentuates that campfire-esque storytelling.  The minimal sound design is exquisite particularly with a proper sound system that allows the startling cricks 'n creaks bury itself deep within your head and purposely break the soothing tranquility of it all.  It's not a particularly frightening watch but it's eerie enough to haunt your thoughts with wonder and awe.  

5 unlucky biwa players out of 5

Yojimbo (1961)

Toshirô Mifune stars as the titular yojimbo (bodyguard), a masterless samurai feeling the economic pinch of the era in Kurosawa's much-imitated jidaigeki. He positions himself between two rivals, one at each end of a small town, and outmanoeuvres them both. He knows that being in the middle is a dangerous place to be, but it offers the best possible view of both sides.
One of the film's strengths is its straightforward delivery. For both director and actor actions are more important than words. The old man that shelters the rōnin provides backstory for the viewer, followed by the yojimbo advancing the plot as and when the story needs it. In contrast to the story, Mifune's role is multifaceted and yet he somehow makes it seem as effortless as his character's manipulation of the idiotic antagonists.

4½ hungry dogs out of 5

Zatoichi: The Last (2010)

Once again I find myself liking something that I later find out is almost unanimously hated, and wondering if we even watched the same film.
I agree that being blind and holding his sword in a reverse grip doesn't mean pop star Shingo Katori is anything like the Zatoichi we know and love, but that doesn't make ZTL a bad film. Remove the expectation and it’s possible to see director Junji Sakamoto’s work as the beautiful jidaigeki it really is. He's attentive to change, enabling his camera-work to adapt to its target (compare the scenes with and without Tatsuya Nakadai to see what I mean). The lighting, the sets and locations are all exquisite. The story is slow but I was never bored. If it had been marketed as being inspired by the Zatoichi series of films, instead of as a part of it, then I think it would be more openly accepted.

3½ right paths out of 5

The Sword of Doom (1966)

A jidaigeki about a wandering samurai who antagonises almost everyone he meets. His expression is unreadable most of the time, but deep down he has a reserve of burning madness and when he kills it’s to assuage it.
There’s no mistaking this is an Okamoto film. The precise way everything is orchestrated, the slow movements, the waiting, and the feeling of impending danger is almost constant. The music, too, is a character.
The abrupt ending is easier to take when you learn that two sequels were planned but never got made.

4 forms out of 5

Ran (1985)

If the role of the fool doesn't clue you in early on, the best way to approach Ran is to imagine yourself an audience member at a theatre and the film frame an elaborate stage. That way the pacing, framing, and blood, etc, will make perfect sense. Even the clouds are dramatic.
It's the story of a Sengoku-era Lord, Hidetora, with three sons of different temperament. He divides his Kingdom between each of them but the power, jealousy and greed tears the family stability apart.
Toru Takemitsu's minimalist score adds haunting atmosphere.
If you get confused about who's who, just remember the colours.

5 shakes of the 'Speare out of 5