This just opened in SF
The original: Harakiri (1962)
Miike’s gem of a film about honor onto death
August 15, 2012
By: Janos Gereben

Ebizo Ichikawa in “Hara Kiri”
Credits: Studio courtesy
Takashi Miike’s “Hara-Kiri: Death of a Samurai” opens with amazing narrative simplicity, and then quickly becomes a magnificently complex gripping drama. This 3D variation on Masaki Kobayashi’s 1962 “Harakiri” channels the spirit of some of the great postwar Japanese filmmakers.
The film, coming to San Francisco’s 4-Star Theater on Aug. 17, is among the very best of Miike’s works. At age 52, he has produced a panoply of 88 divergent films, ranging from violent gangster movies such as “The City of Lost Souls” to the grand samurai saga of “13 Assassins.”
Besides its Shakespearean depth and sustained dramatic suspense, “Hara-Kiri” is also marvelously clear. In just a few minutes, the film sets out and explains its premise: a samurai comes to a castle, requesting permission to commit ritual suicide in a proper setting.
He is among the multitude of warriors, who have lost their positions as feudal rivalry subsided in the 17th century. The ronins - unemployed samurai - were prevented by social convention to work as “common people,” so many of them resolved their hopeless situation by hara-kiri.
But, as Miike’s film immediately posits, the other side of the coin is ronins posing as candidates for suicide only to beg for a position or financial support.
The hero of “Hara-Kiri” (Ebizo Ichikawa, in a masterful performance) is suspected of attempting such a suicide bluff, and in a series of flashbacks, he is warned by the example of a young ronin (Eita Nagayama) who was forced to use his wooden sword (having been forced by poverty to sell the real weapon) to disembowel himself.
Real intent to commit hara-kiri or a bluff? No more of the plot will be told here, but be assured that the story develops in unexpected and intriguing twists and turns.
This is Miike’s first 3D film, and those who have seen it in the proper projection had some complaints about excessively dark, even fuzzy scenes. In 2D projection, the film is rather dark, but Nobuyasu Kita’s cinematography comes across impressively. The whole cast is magnificent, and “Hara-Kiri” is sure to stay with you for a long time.
‘Hara-Kiri’ review: sumptuous chess game
G. Allen Johnson
Updated 4:48 p.m., Thursday, August 16, 2012

Eita plays Motome, a lone samurai, in Takashi Miike’s “Hara-Kiri: Death of a Samurai.” Photo: Tribeca Film / SF
Hara-Kiri: Death of a Samurai
WILD APPLAUSE Drama.
Starring Eita, Koji Yakusho. Directed by Takashi Miike. In Japanese with English subtitles. (Not rated. 126 minutes.)
Takashi Miike must be getting soft in his maturing years (he’s 52). Kinda nice to see.
The outrageous bad boy of Japanese cinema, who has averaged three or four films a year for 20 years, has always seemed to go with his worst instincts - often to our delight. But his seeming desire to go as far over the top as possible has made him one of the sloppiest geniuses around.
Suddenly, he has the patience of an old master. For the second time out, he has made an elegant, feeling, brutal film that is a remake of a 1960s classic. In 2010, it was “13 Assassins.” This time, it’s a riff on Masaki Kobayashi’s 1962 classic, “Harakiri.”
Set in 1630 during a time of economic hardship, “Hara-Kiri: Death of a Samurai” opens with a wandering ronin (basically a samurai without a job), Motome (Eita), arriving at the compound of a rich lord (Koji Yakusho), asking permission to commit hara-kiri, a ritual suicide. Do it on such impressive ground, and the stature of the ronin’s death increases.
The lord suspects him of bluffing, trying to get a handout to save the trouble of the clean-up. What he doesn’t know is why Motome is really there. Turns out Motome’s son tried this same ruse, and the lord’s clan cruelly forced him to commit suicide.
Takashi’s film is sumptuous, with rich cinematography, costumes and set design. Half the time it is a game of chess - the battle of wits between Motome and the lord. Half of the time it is a moving melodrama, tracing the backstory of Motome’s family, including his son, daughter and grandson, all of whom would have had a life of plenty, had not the inhumane codes of the ruling elite gotten in the way.
G. Allen Johnson is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. E-mail: ajohnson@sfchronicle.com