Coming into this class I had never seen Yojimbo or read the Glass Key, but I had seen A Fistful of Dollars many times. I have been trying over the course of our class to find what is so compelling to me about Yojimbo. Having already seen pretty much the exact same story in A Fistful of Dollars, the Kurosawa’s classic somehow resonates even more. There are two major ways in which the films differ: Yojimbo is in black and white and A Fistful of Dollars is in color, and Yojimbo is set in Japan, while A Fistful of Dollars is “set” in the American West although it was filmed in Spain. But this blog will not be relegated to a simple comparison of the films; it is intended to be an analysis of what the true genre of Kurosawa’s film should be and why it is more effective in black and white than it would’ve been in color.
First, to approach Yojimbo as an adaptation of Dashiell Hammet’s novel, The Glass Key, there are no doubt similarities between Sanjuro and Ned in their cunning. They are both hard-boiled, but the similarities beyond this are sparse. In a way they are both stories about a hero that lives in a world where there is no “right” choice. There is no “good” gang that Sanjuro can choose, both are equally bad. As for Ned Beaumont, he in the loosest of connections chooses between Madvig’s group and the rival gang, eventually leaving both. The power of Yojimbo lies in its fable-like simplicity, and as is often true this simplicity in structure often makes for the most interesting of situations.
Kurosawa has said that, “A truly good movie is interesting and easy to understand.” This is certainly true of Yojimbo. Using innovative, visual, aural, and contextual clues Kurosawa constantly reinforces the identities of his characters so that the opposing sides, both literally and metaphorically, are blatantly obvious to the viewer. One of the most interesting relationships in the movie is that between old and new, age and youth. This relationship begins in the very first scene after the main credits, and continues throughout.
The Scene which I am referring to is that of the fight between the father and the boy when Sanjuro is on the outskirts of town. The father and son are placed in a close-up with only their heads showing. This polarizes them resulting in a symbolic representation of the old town, represented by the old man, fighting the new ways, the son. Sanjuro is positioned behind them and stuck in the middle, unsure of where he belongs. It is interesting to note that when Sanjuro does walk out of the frame, he does go to the side of the Father, or towards tradition foreshadowing his future decisions. Kurosawa also does something very interesting with the costuming. Sanjuro and the old man both wear relatively simple clothes, whereas the youth wears a striped robe, which represents the influence of foreign cultures, as well as the material temptation of a life of crime. The son even says that he wants a “short, exciting life”. These two forces of the old ways of the town/ Sanjuro’s past and the new ways are constantly at battle. After this fight between the father and his son the camera brings the mother into frame, who has been working on the loom the entire time. The sound of the loom, engine-like in its regularity emphasizes the traditional productivity of the town. Her voice seems almost hopeless and she constantly stares off into space, away from the camera to emphasize the hopelessness of trying to return to the old “traditional” ways. This follows with the old man emphasizing that it has spread to everyone, that “everyone wants easy money.” Here he references gambling which played a central role in our source material The Glass Key. The two options in this town are a long life eating gruel, or a short and exciting life with a violent death. The old man obviously sees Sanjuro as a mercenary, and despises him for that. In this scene while Kurosawa gives subtle clues as to what side Sanjuro will eventually choose, without looking very hard for them you are left with the impression that he will merely make what money he can in the town and leave, following the “new” way of things. The old man calls him a “dog”, albeit indirectly but it is obvious where the comment is directed when he exits the scene by slamming the door shut on his house. The image of Sanjuro as a mercenary “dog” is heightened by Toshiro Mifune’s brilliant acting when he constantly seems to be itching, or shaking off fleas. On the commentary on the Criterion Edition of Yojimbo, it is said multiple times that Sanjuro’s character is like a stray dog and his enemy Unosuke is a snake. These two characters are the two embodiments of the old vs. new struggle in Yojimbo, because while most of the characters who represent tradition cannot fight, the master-less samurai, Sanjuro, has found a master of sorts in tradition, in restoring order and the way things were done before these lawless criminals overran the town.
It is in this way that we begin to question what genre does Yojimbo belong to. This seeming desire to return things to order that eventually overcomes Sanjuro, is almost like that of the western hero who becomes the sheriff and rids the town of the lawless, but this would be too hasty a conclusion. I agree that there are semantic and syntactic similarities between Yojimbo and westerns, but the semantic similarities are too few to warrant calling this film a western. Most of these elements can be explained as merely borrowed to emphasize the plot and direction of Kurosawa. Thomas Schatz has said: “In a Hollywood Western, as in virtually any Hollywood genre film, plot development is effectively displaced by setting and character: once we recognize the familiar cultural arena and players, we can be fairly certain how the game will be played and how it will end.” While Yojimbo certainly does not pretend to be a Hollywood western it does take elements of the western to further its own story. Obviously the story could be very easily turned into a western, and was in a Fistful of Dollars. The movie does not however have the same cues that cause the viewer to make the same assumptions that one might make in a Western Genre film. Sanjuro looks unsure in the beginning, not in his movements, but in how he is going to choose to proceed. Yojimbo is not a western, and to categorize it as such would be a mistake, much of what we may use to make an argument for Yojimbo as a western stems directly from the fact that it was made into one, and that it had such a great impact on film-making in general. The central story of Yojimbo does not center on a clear-cut good vs. evil like the typical western. It centers on an extraordinarily skilled samurai presented with two equally evil choices. Unlike the chivalric tales of the Wild West, Yojimbo focuses more on the internal struggle of Sanjuro “the stray dog” to find a purpose. As you have seen in my analysis of the opening of the movie and will see in an analysis of the end of the movie it is a battle between the past and the present, tradition and lawlessness.
The final duel represents the showdown between the two paths the town might take. While at this point there are definitely symbols of good and evil, the symbols which have been recurring throughout are those of past and present. The scene opens with a distant shot of Sanjuro on the far side of town, with clouds of dust blowing behind him. The dust is at its greatest intensity during this scene almost as if nature itself is aware of this climactic moment. (As a side not I’m just glad I did not have to act in these conditions, I can’t imagine having to keep my eyes open in those conditions. Kurosawa’s treatment of the actors might be seen as “cruel and unusual”, but oh well, he was filming in Japan) From this shot of Sanjuro, the camera zooms out to reveal two of Unosuke’s cronies playing cards as they have the innkeeper held hostage. In the frame they are placed so that the innkeeper, a symbol of tradition is placed on the left while the cronies, symbols of a life of gambling and chance (they also happen to be playing cards at this moment), are placed on the right. This leaves the two main forces represented in the movie opposing each other in the frame with Sanjuro, the agent of change, in the middle. One possible interpretation of the increased dust and wind activity is that Sanjuro is coming in on the “winds of change”. He has become almost a force of nature. At this point he is no longer the “stray dog” his flea-scratching from before is no longer a meaningless activity, everything he does has purpose. This frame is interrupted by the clock-keeper half-announcing the time before running off after he sees Sanjuro. This causes the cronies to realize he is here, and at this point Kurosawa does something very interesting with the shot, as the cronies go behind the innkeeper to tell the others he holds them out of the frame for an instant longer than one would normally expect. This possibly could symbolize the tradition overcoming the present trend. It at least represents that visually by removing them from the frame. Once they come out to oppose Sanjuro he continues to obscure them with the captive innkeeper. Now Kurosawa switches to a different angle after showing Sanjuro once more. He goes to a shot that shows the entire gang forming a wall across the street preventing Sanjuro from rescuing the innkeeper. The gang is all dressed in clothes that are somewhat flashy, if not flashy at least different from the traditional. Unosuke is the best example of this in his bright white kimono and dark scarf. This has set up a wall of characters that symbolically represent the corrupt and lawless present, which Sanjuro must break through to rescue what is left of past and tradition, as represented here by the innkeeper. From here a steady symbol is played to emphasize the eminent battle. Once the innkeeper is freed by the grave digger the reason for the fight becomes all together different. Sanjuro’s purpose is to prevent the lawless from holding the traditional and past ways of life captive again.
Now for the actual fight. Sanjuro begins to walk toward the gang mimicking his “flea-scratching” from before, but this is merely a façade all that Sanjuro does in this sequence is utterly purposeful. As they walk towards each other Unosuke pulls out his pistol and holds it in front of him. This image is the essence of what the gang symbolizes. Unosuke in his white-striped kimono, and a plaid scarf, brandishing his pistol (a new age weapon) which is most definitely a phallic symbol in this case, is trying to assert his manhood in a very materialistic and violent way. Sanjuro’s contrasting style represents a calm assuredness of the past which in his very mannerisms contrast Unosuke’s arrogance that is tinged with fear and self-doubt. The only two things that stand out about Sanjuro’s dress are his samurai emblems that are in their very nature a symbol of tradition. The masterful acting of Mifune reaches its peak as the fight starts, he mimics his scratching motion that he has used the whole movie, but this time it is so that he looks utterly fluid while pulling out the dagger and with extreme quickness he darts to the side and slays all of Unosuke’s men with ease. It is at this point he lets the son from the beginning of the movie go saying: “Children shouldn’t play with swords”. This has a meaning for the theme of tradition in addition to its obvious meaning for the son. It makes a statement that the children or the future should not follow the example of these gangs, and that it should follow the traditions of the past. As Sanjuro approaches the boy he cowers in fear, and he eventually ends up in a corner with a wheel and a large white spot in the wall. These two symbols tell us that he has come full circle from the beginning of the movie, and has “found the light” both literally, as in the light spot on the wall, and figuratively in that he knows what he needs to do with his life, and it is not joining the gang. Sanjuro is then shown over the body of Unosuke, his head in the light half of the screen and Unosuke’s on the dark half. This furthers their opposition to the very end. Unosuke utters the line that, “without my pistol I feel naked.” This is a message from Kurosawa that even with all of the material things and technology coming in from the outside world, Japan is nothing without its traditions.
With this being the central message from the movie as I see it, the movie cannot be classified as anything else besides a Samurai movie. It fails as a western because it is not intended to be one, its setting is too different and that is its strength. Where the western pits good against evil, Yojimbo pits Japan’s past against its present. It is interesting to note that the film was innovative in its techniques from adding sound effects to sword blows to filming almost exclusively with telephoto lenses, and while it was innovative it harkens back to the past, to a time before cinema, to a preservation of tradition. As Kurosawa intended the movie is easy to understand, and is full of symbols, but it is the variety of interpretations of these symbols that make Yojimbo interesting. Just in case you aren’t convinced yet, one of the seemingly confusing scenes makes a lot of sense when viewed from this perspective. At the very end when the grandfather comes out beating the prayer drum it symbolizes a return to tradition. While Kurosawa can be subtle he, at this point, is trying to beat the message into your head. While there are similarities between The Glass Key, a Fistful of Dollars, and Yojimbo it is this definitive message that separates Yojimbo from the other two, and makes it unique.
And now for some blog comments:
Kate made an interesting point on her blog which was actually concerning the Errol Morris section. She said: “We have our passions, we have our mistakes, we have our reasons, we have our plans and fears of the future.” I think part of what Westerns and the Glass Key is a sense of perhaps not always fear of the future, but a strong sense that it may indeed be dire. In the Glass Key and in a Fistful of Dollars I don’t get the same feeling that the protagonist has found a sense of purpose, or his “passion” as Kate puts it. There is definitely some room for argument here however, but I am just not convinced in Joe’s resolve, or if Ned truly found his purpose in his love with Janet.
CD’s Blog on Sanjuro’s motives is interesting in that I find I have come to a very different conclusion after watching the movie again. CD calls Sanjuro a pro-bono mercenary for the meek, a servant looking for a master. I think that he was indeed looking for a master and found it symbolically in a preservation of tradition. What makes Sanjuro the “man” as CD calls him. I think more than any other protagonist in this section he is redeemable and his motives are pure. Ned is so pessimistic that it almost grates on you, Tom ends up dejected and pretty much gives up, or at the very least has no clear purpose in life, Joe also does not have a convincing purpose like Sanjuro. Sanjuro is more than just a preserver of tradition, by his very nature he is a link between the past and the present. He is in one moment a Samurai soldier, and a ruthless mercenary. The film basically chronicles his decision as a Ronin, whether to fight for the past he has known or take the easy money as a mercenary.
Ellie blogged about Mifune saying: Watching “Yojimbo” for the first time gave me the chance to witness, in my opinion, one of the finest actors of any generation. and I cannot agree with her more. There is a part of Mifune’s acting that she overlooked in her short blog post that was repeated over and over again when I was watching commentaries about the movie. Mifune’s athleticism in the movie is amazing! I mean at the end he kills ten guys in ten seconds. Kurosawa had an interesting comment about that saying that when there is an action scene it seems a lot longer because of all the tension, but Mifune killed them in ten seconds. His athleticism, is a lot of what brought a realism to the swordplay in Yojimbo, and what gave his character a credibility that you believed, at any moment he could kill you. His fluidity of motion is only interrupted in his occasional scratching which is eventually integrated fluidly into his fighting style. Watching him move is truly art, and after watching the film again it is amazing to see how the action seems to prolong itself in your mind, but I think to a degree, because Mifune is so fast, you need to slow it down in your mind to take it all in.
Charlie made an interesting point in his blog about the humor in Yojimbo. He wrote: The ability to elicit a humorous response from the violence hinges on the director’s ability to convince the audience that those being killed are utterly devoid of value. While I agree that laughing at characters does occur in Yojimbo, it, at least to me, happens more in the scenes surrounding violence than in the action sequences. We tend to laugh at the characters because they are so much dumber than Sanjuro, and this only makes us appreciate his cunning more. I just don’t get a similar feeling from Yojimbo because the action scenes are short, and meaningful. They are not the long, exaggeratedly long scenes that Leone created in his Westerns, but each sword blow carries a weight to it (in part because this was the first film to add sound effects to the sword strikes). I think Kurosawa used violence more as a necessity and not as a gag. I do agree with your point that in having the audience laugh at the gang we devalue them, and I would further suggest that we enhance Sanjuro’s character.
