Seven Samurai may be perhaps one of the most influential films of all time. Not since Citizen Kane has one movie been responsible for so much that has come after it. I’ve already mentioned in other reviews some of the movies that have been inspired by or completely ripped off of Seven Samurai, so I don’t intend to do that here. Instead, let’s talk about some of the filmmaking techniques and storytelling devices this movie is responsible for. First, there’s the story’s setup: the recruitment of men for a job. In major ways, such as every heist movie since the 70s, and in minor ways, like the Marvel and D.C. cinematic universes, there is a far-reaching influence that Seven Samurai possess. Likewise, Seven Samurai is one of the earliest examples of a movie starting in the middle of an action scene involving the hero that is otherwise unrelated to the main story. It’s sort of an action-movie staple now. It’s been copied in The Matrix, Mission Impossible, Lethal Weapon, Kingsman, The Dark Knight trilogy, the films of John Woo, practically every James Bond film, The Other Guys and every Indiana Jones movie.

What’s another feature of action movies? Oh yeah. The big finales in the rain! Seven Samurai is responsible for that as well, without which there would be no major showdown between pirates and the East India Company in Pirates of the Caribbean, no sniper showdown in Saving Private Ryan (there also happens to be seven men in that group – coincidence?? I think not!), no final showdowns in The Matrix Revolutions or Blade Runner, and no Battle at Helm’s Deep in Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. Akira Kurosawa was very gifted behind the camera and in the editing room. He had an eye to frame shots perfectly, and he always found a way to keep movement going onscreen (which is why you see the effects of wind in a lot of his movies). The value of movement onscreen cannot be understated. It keeps our attention on what the filmmaker wants our attention on and so it’s an effective tool to put focus on one point of the screen. Think of movement as the highlighter of film. Kurosawa basically created and perfected editing films based around movement. He will cut in the middle of action or movement to a new shot with similar action or movement, and our naked eye is so focused on the movement, we don’t register the cut, giving us a nearly-seamless transition between shots. It’s become a staple of Hollywood moviemaking, and I think you would be hard-pressed to find a movie coming out today that doesn’t use the technique outside of intentionally slow-paced drama. It’s also how movies that want to give the appearance of being one continuous shot get away with cutting.

In 1586, a gang of bandits discuss their plan to raid a mountain village after the harvest. Some of the villagers overhear the conversation and run to the village elder, Gisaku, who says they should hire samurai, but since they are poor, to find ones who will work for food. Some of the villagers go to a nearby town, and there they find Kanbei, an experienced but older rōnin, saving a boy from a thief. They ask him for help and he reluctantly agrees. A young samurai, Katsushirō, asks to become Kanbei’s disciple and Kanbei also recruits old friends, Shichirōji, Gorobei, Heihachi, and Kyūzō. A crazy wannabe samurai, Kikuchiyo, is also allowed to join after they unsuccessfully turn him away. They get to the village and trust between the samurai and villagers slowly develops. Katsushirō falls in love with Shino, the daughter of a farmer who has disguised her as a boy. Kikuchiyo finds armor and weapons that the villagers gathered from dying samurai and when the samurai show disgust, Kikuchiyo reveals he is the orphaned son of a farmer and understands the suffering the villager’s have faced.

The samurai train the villagers with bamboo spears, but in the middle of training, bandit scouts are spotted and killed after giving up their camp’s location. The samurai burn down the camp, but one of the villagers, Rikichi, sees his wife who had previously been kidnapped by the bandits, but when she sees him, she runs into one of the burning huts. Heihachi tries to stop Rikichi from pursuing her, but he shot and killed. At Heihachi’s funeral, Kikuchiyo raises a banner he had made to inspire the villagers. The bandits finally arrive, but are thrown off by a moat and high wooden fences, and many are killed when they try to besiege the village. The samurai learn that the bandits possess three muskets, and so Kyūzō tries and successfully steals one. Kikuchiyo, not to be outdone, abandons his group to get another one, but his absence allows for some of the bandits to sneak in and kill some of the villagers and also Gorobei. The next morning, the remaining bandits break through into the village and a fight ensues. The bandit chief hides in the women’s hut and shoots and kills Kyūzō, and also shoots Kikuchiyo, but Kikuchiyo survives long enough to kill him. After the battle, Kanbei, Katsushirō and Shichirōji stand in front of the graves of their friends and look on as the villagers cheer and plant their crops. Shichirōji tries to reach out to Shino but she ignores him, indicating the end of their relationship. Kanbei declares the victory belongs to the peasants, not the samurai.

I’m going to be honest with you: Seven Samurai is the movie in my Top 5 I’ve seen the least number of times. It’s also probably the newest one as far as when I saw it for the first time, but it has greatly impacted me and formed a significant amount of what I love about movies. I’ve only watched it a handful of times, but it gets better every time I do, and the three and a half hour runtime speeds by. I’ve never once looked at my watch or felt it drag. It feels so much shorter because of the quickness of the action. Everyone should watch this movie at least once, but I’d obviously recommend watching it more.

Bonus Review: Throne of Blood

There are very few instances of my wife showing me a movie for the first time. Even fewer instances of it being a Japanese film, but it happened with Throne of Blood. I had already seen a couple of Kurosawa films by this point – Rashomon and Ikiru come to mind – but I had never even heard of Throne of Blood until I came across a copy at Hastings (RIP). My wife and I would shop there when we were dating and really it was mostly me trying to sweet talk her into us picking up movies that I wanted to watch. I didn’t have to sweet talk her much, because I showed her the blu-ray (“Honey, doesn’t this look interesting?” It’s always best to lead with your questions) and she said, “Oh, I’ve seen this!” She had taken this class in college that covered different film adaptations of Shakespeare plays, making this anecdote a long way of saying that Throne of Blood is an adaptation of Macbeth. Kurosawa took the Scottish setting and dropped it in feudal Japan for the sake of his audience, and dipped in a style of Japanese theater called Noh (which is also the reason for the minimalist flute and drum score). He had worked on an adaptation of Macbeth off and on for a while when Orson Welles released his version, so he shelved it for nearly a decade. There are plenty outstanding visuals and fantastic scenes, but none compare to the ending where the Macbeth character, Washizu, is shot at with arrows. They are real arrows, shot by professional archers, and they land within inches of Toshiro Mifune’s skin. It’s intense to see it play out onscreen.

Washizu and Miki are samurai commanders under Lord Tsuzuki, who reigns in the castle of Spider’s Web Forest. They are on their way back to the castle after defeating the lord’s enemies when they run into a forest spirit, which predicts that Washizu will be given leadership of the Northern Garrison and Miki will become commander of the first fortress. The spirit also claims that Washizu will eventually become Lord of Spider’s Web Castle and Miki’s son will become lord. Back at the castle, Tsuzuki gives the men exactly what the spirit said he would. In conversation, Washizu’s wife, Asaji, convinces him to go ahead and get the ball rolling on the second part of the prophecy by killing Tsuzuki. He does so with the help of Asaji, and they pin the blame on a guard who Washizu kills before he can say anything. Tsuzuki’s son and advisor suspect Washizu, so they leave and go to Miki, explaining their thoughts, but Miki cannot believe his friend would do such a thing. Asaji reveals she is pregnant, so to prevent the part about Miki’s son become lord from coming true, Washizu has them killed.

At a feast, Washizu gets drunk and sees Miki’s ghost, but is brought around by one of his men returning with Miki’s severed head. The man explains that Miki’s son got away and is joining forces with Tsuzuki’s son and advisor, so Washizu kills him. Knowing his enemies are gathering themselves to prepare for battle, Washizu goes looking for the forest spirit. The spirit tells him that he will not be defeated in battle until the trees rise against the castle. This reassures Washizu and his men. The next day, Asaji has gone into a catatonic state and is trying desperately to clean a stain of blood from her hands that doesn’t exist. Before he can do anything about his wife, Washizu is told by a soldier that the trees in the forest have risen to attack them. Washizu’s troops turn against him and shoot arrows at him, killing him. Miki’s son and his army arrive, revealing that they used the trees to cover their advance.