Samurai Revolution Trilogy

Samurai films don’t behind and end with the work of Akira Kurosawa, although for decades one couldn’t be blamed for thinking so. The logistics were simple: not enough work from Japan was considered “export friendly” enough to crack the language barrier. So the view of samurai as infallible warriors whose code of honor could not be broken stuck around for quite a while. But the films of Eiichi Kudo are here to politely ruin that assumption. Working in the same sandbox as Kurosawa, Kudo’s trilogy – 13 Assassins (1963), The Great Killing (1964) and 11 Samurai (1967) – ditches the romanticism is favor of mud, blood and the shattering suspicion that the whole "code of honor" thing might be a bad joke played on the people expected to die for it.

Based on the true events during the Edo era in which a masochist domain lord was assassinated to prevent him from taking power, 13 Assassins follows a band of weary warriors on what amounts to a suicide mission: take out Lord Matsudaira whose appetite for cruelty has outpaced even the era’s uneasy tolerance for it. Kudo treats the setup with care, stacking the deck with strategy, paranoia and just enough character detail to make you dread what’s coming. And when the final act hits – set in a small village turned into a death trap - it doesn’t play like balletic heroism…it’s pure chaos. Takashi Miike’s 2010 remake makes for a worthwhile double-feature.

Or just move on to The Great Killing, which tells pretty much the same story but widens the scope and sharpens the cynicism to include a tragic feminine perspective as well. What begins as another righteous cause quickly reveals itself as subterfuge, with power-hungry politicians maneuvering behind the scenes while the hired swords do the bleeding. Kudo leans hard into the idea that fabled samurai loyalty can still be bought and sold…and that justice is whatever the winning side says it is. The violence is still brutal, but it’s shot with a curious mix of incredibly long lenses and a hand-held approach that should contradict each other but somehow don’t.

By the time we get to 11 Samurai, the rot has fully set in. Another a group of fighters tasked with ambushing Lord Naritsugu are assembled to avenge the death of one of their own…but are just as often held back in a game of political posturing. Kudo’s films strips away whatever lingering illusion there is about samurai purity. These are professionals out for blood, screaming between clenched teeth and tossing themselves like kamikaze pilots on the campfire. But this is also most evolved film of the trilogy, providing a relatable audience surrogate in the form of Hayato, who longs to die with nobility but settles for something closer to exhaustion.

Collected as part of the Samurai Revolution Trilogy, Arrow’s box set is one sweet piece of swordsmanship. Each film includes a commentary track, visual essays and archival interviews packed with an illustrated collector’s booklet.