Harakiri (1962) film review (Contains spoilers)

Masaki Kobayashi’s 1962 masterwork Harakiri is a samurai film which takes place in the summer of 1630, during Japan’s peaceful Edo period. Its unique narrative structure is non-chronological with several flashbacks, revealing character motivations which set the film’s events into motion. Notable for its bold, scathing deconstruction of the famously honorable samurai code, the film has been historically celebrated for its narrative deftness and meditation on interpersonal morality. 

Harakiri follows the story of Hanshiro Tsugumo, an aging, wandering ronin – a samurai without employment – who visits the famed House of Iyi to ask to use their forecourt so he can commit the ritual of hara-kiri/seppuku (ritual suicide), dying honorably and allowing his soul to pass smoothly into the netherworld. Tsugumo says he wishes to do this because following the collapse of his own house, he believes his life to be aimless. The Edo period is one of peace, prosperity, and settling down, meaning someone in Tsugumo’s profession is left in complete squalor. However, when he speaks with the head retainer of the house, a man named Kageyu Saito, he is told of another ronin – Motome Chijiwa – who previously approached the clan asking to commit hara-kiri who then asked for a few days’ reprieve shortly thereafter. Thinking he was following the trend of ronin threatening to commit hara-kiri unless they were given a sum of money to leave, thereby extorting them, the house of Iyi refused to grant his reprieve request, considering they had already made the arrangements for the ceremony. If they were to allow him to leave, they would appear weak and dishonorable to the other houses. Essentially held hostage at his own ritual suicide, Chijiwa was forced to complete the act. He clearly never intended to follow through with the ritual, shown through the reveal that his “swords” were made from bamboo. In a brutal, excruciating sequence (especially for the time of the film’s release), Chijiwa struggles mightily to cut open his stomach with his weak bamboo shortsword. Begging for Hikokuro Omodaka, the man acting as his second (the man responsible for striking off his head after he makes the incision across the stomach), to kill him, Chijiwa’s slow struggle continued until he was finally granted death by Omodaka. Upon hearing every detail of this story, Tsugumo promises that he fully intends to carry out the ritual with no ulterior motive. The ritual is set up in the forecourt, and all seems to be proceeding smoothly. However, Tsugumo isn’t sure of the skill of the man acting as his second, and requests Omodaka to substitute. Saito informs him that Omodaka is absent due to illness and sends a messenger to his home to check on him. Tsugumo is willing to wait, and in the meantime shares a story about his past which reveals that he was indeed very close with Motome Chijiwa, the ronin who approached the House of Iyi previously. It is revealed through flashback that Chijiwa was Tsugumo’s adopted son following his father’s death, and that he married Tsugumo’s daughter, a woman named Miho. The two had a son named Kingo and lived humbly with Tsugumo. When illness befell Miho and Kingo, Chijiwa became desperate. Their conditions worsening, Chijiwa told Tsugumo he was off to see a lord who made his living off giving loans to others. Oblivious to Chijiwa’s true intentions, Tsugumo told him to hurry. As the night continued and Tsugumo, Miho, and Kingo awaited Chijiwa’s return, they were eventually greeted by three men from the House of Iyi who returned with Chijiwa’s body in tow. Heartbroken, destroyed, and angered in learning of Chijiwa’s death, Tsugumo vowed to ensure justice for the man he considered a son and the house which had him killed. In the present, Tsugumo reveals that both Miho and Kingo died of illness days after Chijiwa’s death, leaving him completely alone, driven only by his hatred for the Iyi clan. He calls into question the entire existence of the samurai code of honor, claiming they only killed Chijiwa to avoid appearing weak or overly generous, and that their entire house is built on committing atrocious acts to uphold their famous image of legendary honor and respect. Still lacking a second for his ritual, he asks for two other men, both of whom he is told are also ill like Omodaka. This alarms Saito, who immediately thinks Tsugumo is up to something unknown to him. Tsugumo throws three topknots on the ground, all of which belong to the men he requested as his second, who are also the men who came to his home carrying Chijiwa’s body. He then reveals that he defeated all three men in duels, taking only their topknots, not their lives, humiliating them and causing them to hide from their duties at the palace. Saito commands the other retainers to attack Tsugumo, and in an intense, exhausting sequence, Tsugumo, after killing several samurai and becoming heavily wounded, is killed by a squad of muskets. Following the carnage, Saito commands his messenger to cover up the entire situation by recording Tsugumo’s visit as a smooth, routine hara-kiri ritual and all the other deaths as illness, as it would reflect poorly on the House of Iyi if it was known that a “half-starved ronin” killed so many of them. The film ends with the House of Iyi acting in the exact same way they had been in the previous decades of samurai peacetime – putting personal pride above goodwill towards those in need.

Harakiri’s nonlinear narrative structure recontextualizes its characters’ relationships, motivations, and actions, creating a wholly unique samurai film that challenges its audience’s expectations from the genre and demanding the viewer’s attention and sympathy. Even before the audience knows Chijiwa has any connection to Tsugumo, they feel for him because of the abhorrent pain he experiences and his young age. When it is revealed just how close Chijiwa was to Tsugumo, Tsugumo’s motivations appear completely different. He doesn’t want to commit hara-kiri because he can’t find work, he wants to hold the Iyi clan responsible for their atrocious handling of Chijiwa’s situation. Kobayashi frames the film in a slow, methodical, almost idyllically still cinematographic style. Especially in scenes taking place in the forecourt, there is almost complete stillness in the frame except for one character (usually Tsugumo) speaking, which could be representative of the peaceful state of Japan at the time being reflected through the Iyi retainers’ demeanors. Tsugumo’s arrival and scathing following statements disrupt this, which destabilizes the house, seen in the film’s final skirmish in which Kobayashi’s clever direction shows the cowardice and unwillingness of the comfortable samurai lifestyle at this time. Only Tsugumo is truly throwing himself into the fight; the retainers are not willing to die, so despite their overwhelming numbers, they rarely ever get close to him to finish him off. While they claim honor and valor in lifestyle and battle, they can’t bring themselves to stare death in the face like Tsugumo does, having lost everything. Another carefully constructed aspect of the film comes from its dialogue, specifically two scenes which contain identical dialogue – the arrival of both Chijiwa and Tsugumo, in which they use the exact same word choice in requesting the forecourt for hara-kiri. This is the first hint that Tsugumo is not as unassuming as his visit seems to imply and that he is knowledgeable about the disgrace with which the Iyi clan handled Chijiwa’s situation. They each talk about their struggle to find employment during an era of peacetime, and that their only valuable option remaining is to die honorably through hara-kiri. Tsugumo’s methodical, detailed recollection of his past relationship with Chijiwa explicitly reveals their history together, but the choice to make their word choice exactly the same when they approach the clan implies their relationship much earlier.

Harakiri’s historical context lays the groundwork for the behaviors of both the Iyi Clan and desperate, wandering ronin such as Tsugumo and Chijiwa. The Edo period, a time of peace and progress in Japanese history, causes the honorable samurai houses such as the Iyi clan to become complacent, weak, and inactive. This causes them to need to take drastic measures to ensure their house retains its respect, which they accomplish through forcing Chijiwa to complete the ritual, ensuring he can’t extort them and make them look weak. They also save face through writing off the deaths in the final battle as illness to appear stronger than they would if Tsugumo’s killings became common knowledge. The time period’s effect on Chijiwa (and apparently Tsugumo before his true motivations are revealed) makes him desperate for money to help his family, as he’s unable to find any sort of work as a ronin that he could normally use to sustain his family’s survival. In times of peace, both the ruling samurai class and the unemployed ronin class falter in their ability to maintain strength and prosperity. 

Harakiri’s analysis of a legendary, revered class of warriors and its criticism of samurai hypocrisy is only possible through using the clash between Tsugumo and the Iyi Clan as a microcosm of the struggles that warriors (in essence, professional killers) face without constant political strife and the morally detestable lengths they will pursue to give an outward appearance of strength and power. Its message of violence to others as a means of maintaining sociopolitical prowess is as relevant as ever and asks important questions about the power given to long-standing tradition and customs.

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