Surprising Charm In Masterful Epic
"Charming" is perhaps the last adjective one would expect to hear in connection with an old black-and-white samurai movie. But at every turn, from Gorobei's jesting response to the initial test set for him by Kambei, to Kambei's joking at the expense of the freshly de-flowered Katsushiro before the final battle, this movie shows an easy, earthy, sense of humor. This care, this willingness to psychologize each character, saves this movie from the pitfalls of most "battle epics."

Yet, Kurosawa's technique is not less exalted in the action sequences. If you are familiar with "Ran", or "Throne of Blood," you are aware that he is the master of the big, wide-screen shot of massed cavalry advances. In "Ran," for instance, the battles outside of Hidetora's castle, with the washes of orange and pink, are masterful, painterly filmmaking.

Here, the battle scenes are of a more claustrophobic nature, and all the more dramatic, as a result. The mounted bandits are shown vying at close quarters with the farmer pikemen in a grisly kaleidoscope of straining arms, tendons, hooves, spears, swords. For those who would criticize the action sequences of "Seven Samurai," the following question is in order: which puts more of a demand on the imaginations -- the "suspension of disbelief" -- of its viewers? A slick, cartoony CGI combat sequence (cf, "Star Wars," "The Matrix", "The Hulk"), or sharp-focus photography of actual stuntmen simulating 16th-century combat?

Ultimately, Kurosawa is able to strike a perfect balance between breadth of vision, and sharpness of focus. In doing so, he creates a full, but sharply-detailed universe for the action to unfold in.

The Peasant and the Sword
Words fail to praise the action-packed period film that Akira Kurosawa created in 1954 Japan. Two years after the allies released the Japanese from occupation, Kurosawa directed the best film ever, in my opinion, for those that desire evil to be overthrown and justice to prevail. The plight of the peasants is graphically detailed in breath-taking scenes of beauty and poise. Coming to their aid is the most virtuous samurai in film history, ready at a moment to battle the bandits that would rob, rape, and murder the helpless peasantry. The camera angles and positioning are excellent beyond belief, the costumes are real, and the mud is thick for the final battle scene. Any movie fan that doesn't have the recent Criterion Collection Seven Samurai is missing out on a classic. Honor, loyalty, skill, and faith come alive on the screen in 17th century Japan.

Fantastic
Some films do get better with repeated viewings. Akira Kurosawa's 1954 black and white film Seven Samurai (Shichinin no samurai) is one of them. It was well deserving of winning the 1954 Venice Film Festival's Silver Lion, as well as the two Academy awards it won for Best Art/Set Decoration and Best Costume Design. On a first view it's simply a great action film, but with subsequent viewings the finer points of characterization come through in each moment, seeping into the mind subliminally and purposefully. The story, at nearly three and a half hours in length- including a five minute intermission, is never weighted down with fat, as all of the many subplots bear fruit- so unlike most films made in Hollywood today. It became an international sensation, and the highest grossing Japanese film of its day.
Yes, there are remnants of the stale samurai genre, such as the wise man Kambei Shimada (Takashi Shimura), and the `boy on the verge of manhood' in Katsushiro Okamoto (Isao `Ko' Kimura), and his romance with farmer Manzo's daughter Shino, but the central human dilemma of the 16th Century farmers who are helpless against the depredations of the bandits, who abound during the civil wars of the era, raises the film above mere clichés. We only see the bandits at the beginning and end of the film. There are about two hours where the meat of the tale takes place, and not a bandit is in sight. How many films do away with their bad guys for so long? How many could afford to? Since we do not know any of the bandits' names, they are more like a singular character, or a sheer force of nature. Why do they keep coming to attack the villagers, even as their forces are successively thinned with each failed raid? They must realize that the once helpless villagers have hired defenders? There is no Darth Vader among the bandits, despite George Lucas's latter-day attempts to cite this film as an influence for his banal and downright puerile Star Wars saga. We also learn that the villagers are neither as poor nor innocent as they portray. There are murderers amongst them, who have killed samurai before. They also seek to lowball and underpay their protectors.... It is a truism that almost all great directors have at least one great collaborator. With Ingmar Bergman it was his cinematographer Sven Nykvist. With Federico Fellini it was his musical scorer, Nino Rota. But with Kurosawa it's not only great stars like Mifune and Shimura, but his co-writers, Shinobu Hashimoto and Hideo Oguni- part of a rotating staff of writers that muted some of Kurosawa's own admitted over the top tendencies in storytelling, and brought the tale down to a human level. Without them the film may have been little more than a greatly stylized genre film, rather than a great film, period.
The cinematography Asakazu Nakai, and score by Fumio Hayasaka are also very good, although this is an actor-driven vehicle. Nakai's deep focus techniques- at the time cutting edge, are every bit as good as those in Citizen Kane. Especially, look at the complexity of the many crowd scenes, where many little stories play out as we watch the foregrounded action of the samurai. Things like this are only gotten on repeated viewings, and with my second viewing I picked up much more than on a first glance, especially while not having to read the subtitles. And look at how jungle twigs seem to leap out at the viewer, as does Mifune's huge phallic sword as he slings it over his shoulder. The whole film was shot in a 1.33:1 aspect ratio, so one wonders what Kurosawa would have done with this film in widescreen.
There's no doubt that Seven Samurai is a great film, and with its length and complexity it will only grow in my estimation as I view it more and more over the years. Of that I'm sure. But, that said, I do not think that it is Kurosawa's best film. I'd still lean toward Ikiru for that honor- for it's simply the more deeply human tale, and Shimura is even better in his role as Watanabe the doomed bureaucrat than as Kambei the indefatigable warrior. However, this is the granddaddy of all great action films, from Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch to even James Cameron's films like Aliens or The Terminator series, as well as a great bildungsroman for Katsushiro. It also struck me, as the film opens to drumbeats, how reminiscent this film's opening is to that of my beloved Godzilla- a film that was released in the same year, with the footfalls of the monster dominating a black screen filled with credits. While Godzilla is nowhere in a league to Seven Samurai as a film, it is the second most influential Japanese film of all time. That both rely on such primal sounds in their openings makes one wonder if there's a connection.
Yet, the thing that Seven Samurai has that few other films do is its incredibly detailed richness. From the bad skull caps the male characters wear, to the ambush tests Kambei devises to recruit his cohorts, to the old woman who goes to kill a hobbled bandit with a farm instrument- to avenge her son's death, and many others; all of these and more make repeated viewing a necessity to truly appreciate this film, for all of these things are non-essential to the basic plot, even as they heighten the realism of this unreal tale. Let me end by stating that Seven Samurai is every bit as good, and great, as its greatest champions claim, and I ask you, how rare a thing is that?

Truly amazing
Nothing less than incredible. My fiancee and I loved every minute. Definitely worth sitting down for the whole 3 1/2 hours of this movie.

THE Masterpiece
Tension in all aspects best illustrates "The Seven" Warriors without masters who sell out to farmers. Even sexual tension grips the youngest who survives the battle, only to surrender to the true winners. The American rip-off does not hold a candle to the actors, action, or message. Hollywood still can not get it perfect as "The Seven" is perfection and greatness. Swords beaten into plows!