Yanagida and his long-suffering daughter Kinu eke a subsistence living. She takes in laundry. He engraves seals. His only indulgence is the occasional game of go, but, as in all things, he plays with an almost perverse sense of honor. However, that makes quite an impression on go-obsessed pawn broker Genbei Yorozuya, who also recognizes Yanagida’s superior knack for strategy. Soon, they become unlikely friends, but Yanagida faces potential ruin as result of Yorozuya’s own negligence.
Just when Yanagida’s reputation in the provincial town craters, his old samurai comrade arrives with news. His former clan wishes to welcome Yanagida back to the domain. His duplicitous rival Shibata has been exposed as the real thief of the lord’s precious scroll. That was the same crime Yanagida was scapegoated and banished for. True to form, Shibata fled like the dishonorable coward he has always been, so Yanagida intends to extract the justice demanded by the Bushido code. However, he needs time, so Kinu buys him a year, by essentially mortgaging herself.
Bushido is aptly titled, because it is as much about the rigorous ethical framework of the Bushido Code, as the swordplay necessary to complete Yanagida’s mission. In fact, Shiraishi holds back the Chanbara hack-and-slash action until late in the third act—but it is worth the wait. Instead, he invests the time establishing Yanagida, Kinu, Yorozuya, and the merchant’s adopted heir, Yakichi, which makes the potential tragedy they each face hit with powerful force.
Frankly, revenge and domestic drama play equal roles in Bushido. Yanagida’s bond with Kinu is not so different on an emotional level as some of the acutely delicate father-daughter relationships in classic Ozu films. Indeed, Shiraishi combines the epic and the intimate with unusual dexterity. Very highly recommended, Bushido opens today (3/13) in theaters, including the Alamo Drafthouse Lower Manhattan.
