47 Ronin Review

The tale of the vengeance of the 47 Ronin is perhaps Japan’s most well-known and beloved legend extolling the virtues of the Bushido honor code. Based on real events in 18th century Japan, the story follows 47 loyal samurai who become ronin (masterless) when their leader Lord Asano is forced to commit seppuku (ritual suicide) after he is accused of assaulting a court official named Kira Yoshinaka. The men waited, planned for over a year, and then avenged their lord by killing Kira.

The anniversary of their campaign is celebrated on the 14th of December each year via fictionalized depictions of the event known as Chushingura. Multiple embellished and otherwise reimagined versions of the tale have emerged over the years. Everything ranging from the 1962 film Chushingura to an all Hello Kitty adaptation is available; which is likely the reason that director Carl Rinsch and Universal Pictures felt at liberty to add their own Westernized/fantastical twist.

This latest rendition of the 47 Ronin opened in Japan on December 6 and, to put it mildly, has failed to capture an audience. Set to roll out globally beginning on Christmas day, the U.S./European ad campaign, unsurprisingly, stresses two things: Keanu Reeves and fantasy.  It is notable that the poster features Reeves, Rinko Kikuchi (a witch in the film, and perhaps the most internationally recognizable of the Japanese cast), and two fantastical creatures who enjoy minimal screen time in the actual film. In point of fact, Kikuchi and Reeves are really more supporting than lead characters. If anyone, Hiroyuki Sanada is the fulcrum of the story.

The marketing is mentioned because the approach is indicative of the inauthentic feel of the film, which on the whole reads like a hodgepodge of manufactured elements designed to ensnare. In Rinsch’s universe, Kira (Tadanobu Asano) is a ruthlessly ambitious, mustache twirling villain who, with the aid of a shapeshifting witch (Kikuchi), tricks Lord Asano (Min Tanaka) into attacking him, forcing the Shogun to call for Asano’s death. Kira is then granted control of Ako, Asano’s home, and betrothed to Asano’s daughter Mika. Mika’s character is a convention of this film and is ultimately designed to appeal to a Western value system.

Essentially she serves three purposes: First, she is the princess in the tower. The ronin are not just struggling for an amorphous idea of balance here, they are also fighting to save Mika from Kira and the witch. She represents the hope of Ako, and her potential return to power affords the film the possibility of a “happy” ending of sorts; whereas in the lion's share of the Japanese iterations the restoration of honor and justice, along with the demonstration of loyalty, are their own rewards. If feels as if the heart of the original tale is about the value of a life well lived, even if it ends in death, while the Americanized twist demands that life must continue in some capacity. Someone must “win” and survive.

Mika also acts as an emotional anchor for Reeves’ Kai via their forbidden love-story. A “half-breed” born of a Japanese mother and British father, Kai stands in as the “other” who can act as an entry point into a potentially unknown world. In other words, Kai is shoehorned in for the Western audience, a “hook” for the viewer to connect to, and a plot device to introduce or explain certain aspects of the Bushido honor code. Unfortunately, he never truly comes to life. Ultimately, Kai is an artificial addition while Sanada’s Oishi is the true protagonist. Yet the film never fully commits to either. The result is a muddled through-line.

With little to work with, the performances are often shallow and occasionally stiff. Sanada delivers the most nuanced and moving portrayal as Oishi, Lord Asano’s trusted second-in-command. Sanada has been in at least two other versions of the 47 Ronin and it is only through him that we feel the legitimate weight and import of their task, the love he felt for his leader, and his utter willingness to die rather than forsake his honor.

The group is “brought into the cave to be tested,” but the challenge is fairly simplistic, easy to overcome, and ultimately anti-climactic. Kikuchi’s shapeshifter is a particularly egregious missed opportunity. We know nothing about her or her motives, and as such, the character has little meaning other than as a plot device. Japanese folklore is rich and, in the right hands, the addition of ghosts, demons, and spirits may have infused this story with brilliant new life and meaning. Here, we’re just left wanting for a film that does these otherworldly creatures justice.

The effects, particularly the dragon which is featured so prominently in the trailer, translate better on the big screen than they do in the online marketing materials. However, for a film that boasts a budget of upwards of $175 million, several of the creatures are rather Clash of the Titans-esque in their final execution. Having said that, this 47 Ronin is beautiful to behold: the costumes and practical sets feature gorgeously intricate detail and the frame is often alive with vibrant color. Unfortunately, the 3D does dampen the experience by adding a dark haze to what should be, at least in moments, a vivid experience. Even the darker, more Gothic palette in the latter portions of the film are diluted by the shaded glasses. You’re better off electing for 2D on this one.

The film’s central draw ought to be its spectacle, and indeed, the landscapes frequently verge on dazzling. Additionally, the fight sequences are well-crafted and impressive. The final attack on Kira’s stronghold is particularly striking and imaginative. However, it’s only the final moments between Oishi and Kira that pack an emotional punch. Though finely choreographed, in general the fights are not as breathtaking or evocative as some of the fantastical hand-to-hand and swordplay available in the films that Rinsch is likely inspired by, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon among others. Nor do they deliver the primal impact of a grittier, more grounded sword fight.

Rinsch, who was best known for his commercial work, has a powerful visual aesthetic, but seems unable to maintain a firm grasp on either tone or character. Weaving between goofy, melancholy, overwrought, hammy (particularly when it comes to the witch) and morose, 47 Ronin simply doesn’t know what kind of film it wants to be. More often than not, it’s trying to be all things, to all people, and as a result will likely mean very little to anyone – other than those holding the bill.