7/1/11

5 Reasons why you should see The Seven Samurai this weekend rather than another summer action blockbuster (particularly the one about robots fighting)

Summer is upon us, and as the heat goes up, so does the size of the movies playing at multiplexes across the country. Superheroes will defeat evil, cowboys will battle aliens, and of course, robots will collide with robots in massive (and probably largely incomprehensible) battles. Summer is the time of the action film, and what better time of year to sit in air-conditioned, dark theaters and watch spectacle upon spectacle occurring right before your eyes, at 24 glorious (and now 3D) frames per second.
Except something isn't right, is it? There's something missing. Those characters are pretty thinly sketched, aren't they? You're not really clear who is running away from the Decepticon, are you? Most egregiously, the action doesn't have much tension, does it?
In an age of bigger is better, we've lost a sense of what makes action films great. There's no consequence anymore, no sense of stakes. It's elementary story-telling, one would argue, and action offers us the rare opportunity to offer that stuff in it's purest, most unpretentious form. Maybe it wouldn't hurt for some of us to take a step back, and see what a real action movie looks like.
We're in luck. For the next three days, IFC Center, that glorious New York City institution, is offering a chance to see Akira Kurosawa's classic The Seven Samurai. Kurosawa's action epic, about a group of Samurai hired to protect a village under assault from marauding bandits, is the touchstone film for most of the great action films that followed, yet manages to outshine them in every way. Even if you don't live in an area where Kurosawa's masterwork is playing, it's easily available (on Blu-Ray, no less) through Netflix or your local video store.
Here are 5 reasons why your movie this holiday weekend shouldn't be the one about robots fighting.

1.The Seven Samurai has stakes.
So often in action films these days we're given ludicrous reasons to care. They usually, and most lazily, consist of a mystical item which will bring power to whoever possesses it, or some kind of loosely plotted time travel situation that threatens to unravel the time-space continuum. These 'plots' are thrown at us with such speed and indifference that before we know it we're knee deep in action without much reason to care.
However, Mr Kurosawa took his time. He was a believer in human drama, and it shows from the opening frames of Samurai, as a group of bandits descend on the hills above a small peasant village to plot their attack once the harvest comes. As they disappear into the hills, a peasant is revealed, having been hidden throughout the entire scene. The look on his face is one of the many looks that will be burned into your mind once the film ends: it is one of abject terror, and absolute hopelessness. These weren't easy times in Japan (the film takes place in the late 1580's - the Warring States Period - one of great social and political upheaval in Japanese history), and the idea of losing an entire harvest to bandits meant disaster for these peasants. Eventually a decision is made to hire Samurai in order to protect the village, but not before we understand the desperation of these peasants' situation, and thus are far more invested in what happens to them, which makes the film's climatic battle all the more suspenseful and thrilling. This does, of course, result in a long running time: 3 hours, 27 minutes. Before you scoff, however, keep in mind: the latest Transformers movie clocks in at just an hour shorter.

2.The Seven Samurai invented the modern day action hero, seven different ways.
It's disheartening at how little charisma there is among action heroes these days. Does anyone think that Shia Lebouf's teenage spaz has any depth? Is a Ryan Reynold's bland take on Hal Jordan really the best we can do?
The cast of characters in
The Seven Samurai are the basis for nearly every modern action hero we have. Like Jack Sparrow's drunken heroics or Tony Stark's arrogant, yet intense vulnerability? Watch Toshiro Mifune's tormented and hilarious work as Kikuchiyo, the Seventh Samurai, and you'll see an almost uncanny resemblance
. One of Optimus Prime's ridiculous moments of philosophy sticking with you (I seriously hope not)? It can be traced back to Takashi Shimura's wonderful, meaningful performance as Kanbe Shimada, the leader of the Samurai.
Every modern action hero, from the
wise ass side kick (Minoru Chiaki's good-hearted Heihachi) to the stone cold bad ass warrior (Seiji Miyaguchi's Kyuzo), can be found in this film, and, amazingly, they feel as fresh as ever. They're specifically defined, given moments to stand out, and their fate actually means something to you. It isn't giving much away to say that the film doesn't end with all seven Samurai still among the living. What may surprise is how moved you are when they meet their fates. Action movies don't work without characters. This film invented those characters.

3.The Seven Samurai may be the most influential action film ever made.
Going beyond the richly created characters, it's apparent from almost frame one that The Seven Samurai is a film that has shaped the way modern action films are made. Everything from the introduction of the central conflict to the film's final moment feels iconic.
Perhaps the most clear example of this comes in the first hour, as the rag-tag team of Samurai are brought together. One is seen haphazardly chopping wood, a clear indication of his strengths as a fighter. Another is seen resisting armed conflict before being forced to take his opponent down, a task he performs with the minimum of fuss and maximum precision, establishing him as the film's silent warrior. Another is seen dancing over the body of a thief dispatched by a far more skilled Samurai. Another is...
You get the point. With a great deal of economy and skill, Kurosawa establishes who these men are in several tightly constructed scenes and exchanges. Michael Bay would do the same years later when he gave us an introduction to his team of roughneck oil drillers in Armageddon; Christopher Nolan did it when he introduced us to his dream thieves in last year's Inception. Not to mention Soderberg's Ocean's films.
Likewise, nearly every modern filmmaker will give Kurosawa his due when it comes to influence. Freeze frame certain shots of Samurai against the climatic battle of Saving Private Ryan, and you'll be hard pressed to tell the difference. Do those wipe-cuts look familiar? Lucas did the same with Star Wars (in fact, without Kurosawa's Hidden Fortress, another less celebrated Samurai film, there wouldn't be a Star Wars to speak of). I could keep going, but I won't. This film has been remade time and time again whether officially (the seminal western The Magnificent Seven; Pixar's A Bug's Life), or unofficially.

4.The Seven Samurai has action that makes sense.
Yesterday, I tried to watch the trailer for Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. I could barely keep up with the action. There wasn't a shot that lasted more than two or three seconds, and the poorly-chosen Eminem track playing over the endless shots of explosions and gun fights did little to add clarity.
This is the sad state of many action films these days. It's becoming much easier to edit a film to within an inch of it's life, thereby making the film more frenetic, more 'edgy', and, as a consequence, less comprehensible. Occasionally, this works (the new 007 films serve as an example). Mostly, it doesn't, as Michael Bay's nearly avant-garde cutting and shooting in his Transformers films demonstrates. What the hell is happening in these films?
This is not the case with Kurosawa, whose action sequences in Samurai are absolutely top-notch. We feel the weight, drama, and consequence in every scene, even in those with relatively little action.
Take an early scene when Shimada disguises himself as a monk to save a child being held captive by a crazed and terrified thief. Shimada approaches the thief's hideout with food. He throws the food into the room, waits a split second (presumably for the thief to pick the food up), and dashes in. A few absolutely hair-rising seconds pass as the audience stares at an empty frame, and suddenly the thief dashes out. He freezes, and, in a slow-motion shot that has been copied time and time again, falls into a heap, the victim of an unknown blow from Shimada. Cut to the villagers gathered around the hideout. As they exhale, so do we.
All of this is accomplished with approximately 15 cuts, spread over a minute and a half. A majority of the cuts are to the villagers watching helplessly, which heightens the tension. The actual action occurs in 7 or 8 shots, with a minimum of fuss, but producing great tension and excitement.
Imagine the modern equivalent, with a series of cuts as Shimada enters the hideout, the music blaring as he saves the child (undoubtedly in slow-motion), and the blood pouring out of the thief as he falls to a heap. Gratuitous, to say the least. Once again, the best action is about suggestion. Kurosawa is a master.
That isn't to say the film lacks action or battle. The last 40 minutes are packed with exciting action that builds as it progresses, with each minor defeat and victory raising your blood pressure. By this point, the characters are so well defined that their loss is yours. It's an incredible testament to the necessity of action being about character and drama over spectacle.

5. The Seven Samurai has resonance, reality, and consequence.

Rarely do robots, particularly robots that are almost invulnerable, justify any real concern about their fate in action films. Do the robots in Transformers mean anything?
Michael Bay has made one great action film: The Rock. Have you seen it? In it, disgruntled general Francis Hummel (Ed Harris, bringing real pathos), upset over the way the deaths of his men in Desert Storm was handled, storms Alcatraz and takes 81 tourists hostage. He demands reparations be made to their families. He means it. He cares. This isn't only about money. It's about the memory of real men. What follows is fairly preposterous when compared to the gravity and reality of Hummel's stated intent, but the film also leaves the fate of one of it's central protagonists up in the air. Former British spy John Mason (Sean Connery) , who was supposed to be freed from prison for agreeing to lead the rescue team into Alcatraz, is betrayed by the FBI. He is warned by nerdy scientist turned warrior Stanley Goodspeed (Nicolas Cage, in one of his first action roles), and escapes. It isn't exactly a down ending for Mason, but it isn't the tidy wrap-up we have come to expect from our action films.
The same can be said for Seven Samurai, though much more so. As I said before, this film doesn't end without death, without loss and without lives being irrevocably changed. These men knew there would be consequence. Their duty is to save and preserve the village; to preserve life. Preservation of life doesn't happen without some loss of life. Surely a simple lesson, but one with a kind of resonance most action films can't even think of having these days, much less the downbeat note that this film ends on. It ultimately makes the film more rewarding, as it realizes the consequences of action.
Ultimately, consequences are what action movies great. Without them, action films resemble empty spectacle: a series of images cut together that may resemble a film, but beyond the sound and fury, signify nothing.
Sound familiar?


Additionally, IFC's screening of Seven Samurai this weekend is part of a longer KUROSAWA series whose ticket sales benefit the Japan Society's Earthquake Relief Fund.
You're not only seeing a great film, but helping those in serious need.

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