Losing One’s Self in a Role

Kagemusha is not one of Kurosawa’s most talked about films, but deserves far more attention than it gets. It tends to be overshadowed by its great successor film, Ran (1985), but warrants respect not merely as a warm-up to that great film, but as a fine film in its own right.

Historical Background: All of the arts must cope with the struggle between commercial interests and artistic integrity, but it is perhaps more evident in cinema than for paintings or sonatas for the simple reason that a typical movie requires a much greater financial outlay, which inevitably activates investor concerns with recovering their investment. After 1970, Kurosawa directed only seven films because he was constantly struggling to find funding. Red Beard (1965) had been a success but Kurosawa had become increasing and caustically outspoken about what he perceived as excess commercialism in the Japanese studios and after Dodes ‘Ka-Den flopped miserably at the box-office in 1970, Kurosawa was persona non grata with Japanese cinematic investors. His superb 1975 film, Dersu Uzala, was financed by Russia and filmed there as well. After that, Kurosawa went hat in hand to two famous American directors and producers, George Lucas and Francis Ford Coppola and acquired backing for Kagemusha. As a result, this film was made with one of the largest budgets ever ($6 million) for a Japanese film, but, even so, Kurosawa himself considered the film a mere dress rehearsal for his great epic of 1985, Ran, which was funded by the French.

The broad historical elements of Kagemusha are based on the actual history of Japan during this time period. The three great warlords depicted in the film all actually existed and were locked in endless warfare in the sixteen century. Shingen (1521-1573) may have died of illness rather than a sniper’s bullet as told in the movie but his death changed the political and military reality. The resolution of this period of violent conflict came in 1600, when one of the great warlords, Tokugawa Ieyasu, defeated his rivals at the battle of Sekigahara and took the title of Shogun (supreme military commander) in 1603, thus unifying Japan. The Tokugawa shogunate (1603-1868) led to a period of stability and peace, maintaining order throughout Japan through a system of vassals and an army of samurai.

The Story: The opening scene shows three men sitting in a sparsely furnished Japanese reception hall, separated by distances of about 8-10 feet from one another. The scene is shot from a medium distance so that facial features are not especially distinct, but the three men look identical for all we can tell to the contrary – same cut of hair, same mustache, same facial features, and the same body proportions. One man is seated in the center on a slightly elevated platform and obviously has higher status than the other two. He is Shingen Takeda (Tatsuya Nakadai), a powerful warlord and head of the Takeda clan. To his right sits Shingen’s right hand man and brother, Nobukado Takeda (Tsutomu Yamazaki). The resemblance between the two brothers is so strong that Nokukado has sometimes served the clan as his brother’s “double,” when such a deception served strategic purposes. The third man, seated in the foreground right and obviously of inferior status, is a common thief, Kagemusha (also played by Tatsuya Nakadai) – a man that Nokukado has spared from an appointment with crucifixion because of his uncanny resemblance to the two brothers, especially Shingen. As much as the two brothers resemble one another, Kagemusha is even more of a dead ringer for the warlord. He will be trained to serve as a double or “shadow warrior.” When Shingen refers disparagingly to Kagemusha as a wicked man, Kagemusha has the audacity to laugh loudly and counter, “I only stole a few coins. A petty thief. But you’ve killed hundreds and robbed whole domains. Who is wicked?” Shingen acknowledges the truth of the thief’s remark, saying, “I am wicked, as you believe. I am a scoundrel. I banished my father and I killed my own son. I will do anything to rule this country. War is everywhere. Unless someone unifies the nation and reigns over us we will see more rivers of blood and more mountains of the dead.”

The time is near the end of the third-quarter of the sixteenth century. The main island of Japan, called Honshu, is in a state of constant warfare as three main warlords vie for territory and power: Shingen Takeda, Nobunaga Oda (Daisuke Ryu), and Ieyasu Tokugawa (Masayuki Yui). Shingen’s ambition is to unite all of Honshu Island under his authority and to set his flag in the imperial city of Kyoto. With Shingen marching on Kyoto in 1572, Nobunaga and Ieyasu have formed an alliance to stop Shingen’s advance, but the Takeda warriors have nevertheless carried the day and have laid siege to Ieyasu’s fortress, Noda Castle. Ieyasu’s forces, trapped inside the fortress, have withstood the siege for weeks and, to signal their will to resist, each night a flute player renders a liltingly beautiful melody from the castle wall. The Takeda forces have finally cut off the water supply to the castle and all are curious as to whether that additional hardship will halt the nightly performances of the flutist.

Even Shingen himself has his curiosity and he takes the excursion from his own home castle to the site of the siege in order to be on hand when the flute player either does or does not signal the continued defiance of Ieyasu’s men. Athough Shingen comes at night, when he ought to be safe from sniper fire, one of Ieyasu’s clever snipers has anticipated where one of the Takeda leaders might sit and has rigged a gun during the day aimed at that very spot. In the evening, the flutist once again delivers his performance, but in the midst of the piece, the sniper fires his gun into the darkness and, as luck would have it, hits Shingen square in the shoulder.

Shingen is so important psychologically to the Takeda clan that his wound not only necessitates his being rushed back to his home castle, but the withdrawal of the entire siege force as well. Whether he will live or die is initially uncertain, but anticipating his possible death, Shingen issues specific instructions to his inner circle in the event of his death. His body is to be dropped in Lake Suwa and his death is to be kept secret for three years. The Takeda clan is to remain in its homeland and guard their domain rather than venturing forth on military offensives.

Now it might seem impractical to hide the death of a clan’s leader for three years, but they do have a double available in the form of Kagemusha. Furthermore, the day to day operations and strategic decisions lie in the hands of the generals. This was made evident earlier when one of the senior generals, Masakage Yamagata (Hideji Otaki), even had the audacity to belittle the anxieties of Shingen, calling him a mountain monkey who behaves like a five-year-old and who doesn’t deserve to dream of ruling. Shingen is a figurehead whose main function in the clan is to be a “mountain,” unshakably resolute in his courage and confidence. On the battlefield, the Takeda forces have been rendered invincible by their determination to protect “the mountain” at all cost. So, when Shingen ultimately succumbs to his wounds, the job of his double mostly entails maintaining a passive and authoritative appearance while his generals argue over particulars or direct maneuvers. Only a small inner circle of retainers will know the truth.

Kagemusha’s close physical resemblance to Shingen is enough to convince most members of the Takeda clan and the spies from the rival warlords that he is indeed Shingen, but there are several complications. One difficulty is Shingen’s grandson and ultimate heir, Takemaru (Kota Yui). Initially, he doesn’t believe that Kagemusha is really his grandfather but the retainers convince the boy that war often changes one’s appearance and behavior a bit and, ultimately, Kagemusha’s gentle touch with the lad wins him over. A second problem is Shingen’s horse that only Shingen had ever been able to mount. Since animals recognize people and other animals more by smell than appearance, the similarity in appearance between Kagemusha and Shingen will have no effect. The retainers pass the word around that Shingen can no longer ride because of the injury he received. Then, there’s concern that the concubines would recognize that Kagemusha is an impostor in bed by differences in intimate details or sexual preferences. The retainers decide that the same excuse will work there as well – the lord can no longer “ride” because the exertion might be too much! This idea elicits major chortles from the assembled generals.

It is not easy to play a role continuously. Even actors sometimes complain of losing their identity for a while when they immerse themselves thoroughly in a role for a film over several months, especially if the character is a strong one. Kagemusha wants to serve the clan by playing the part of Shingen, but he also wants to retain his own identity. Early on, he thinks about stealing a few precious items from the warlord’s household and fleeing, since being the thief is his own personal identity. He cracks open a massive storage jar expecting it to contain gold or some other treasure only to come across the corpse of Shingen, in temporary storage before being dropped in Lake Suwa. He is caught and scolded, but agrees to go back to playing Shingen’s double. That night, Kagemusha has a vivid nightmare in which he is chased by Shingen across a surreal landscape until finally the great warlord disappears and Kagemusha is then at a loss as to whether to follow or continue fleeing. He awakens screaming and sweating. At least Nobukado, Shingen’s brother who had earlier played his double, sympathizes with Kagemusha's identity crisis.

One last difficulty concerns Shingen’s son, Katsuyori Takeda (Kenichi Hagiwara). Although he is the son of the late warlord, Katsuyori has been passed over as heir because his mother was the daughter of the warlord, Suwa, who Shingen had defeated in consolidating his own power. Katsuyori, in other words, is the grandson of a former enemy. He has been appointed guardian of the young Takemaru, but it is Takemaru who will take over clan leadership from Shingen. This slight does not sit well with Katsuyori, who is determined to prove himself as able a warrior as his father. This obsession leads him into a foolhardy if courageous initiative to prove himself worthy of his father’s legacy and banner. Shingen’s banner is very important symbolically and rightly feared by all. It is emblazoned with four diamonds, representing Shingen’s military forces and strategy. The four components of the diamond stand for Shingen’s wind, fire, and forest regiments and Shingen himself as the mountain. The horsemen in blue attack as fast as the wind; the lancers in green advance quiet as a forest; and the cavalry in red raid mercilessly as fire.

Katsuyori is so distraught about being required to pretend that an impostor is his father that he tries to embarrass Kagemusha and expose the ruse. During a war council, Kagemusha has been instructed to sit quietly saying nothing until the end and then merely accept the decisions of the council and congratulate them. Katsuyori throws a monkey-wrench into this plan by turning to Kagemusha and asking his advice. Kagemusha, however, rises to the occasion, saying, “Do not attack, do not move. The mountain does not move.”

This decision is intolerable to Katsuyori, who has great need to prove his valor. On May 21, 1575, Katsuyori leaves the homeland with 25,000 men to attack Nagashino, without so much as consulting with the generals. The generals are concerned that Ieyasu’s forces, which are on a campaign, will head to Nagashino as reinforcements and attach Katsuyori’s troops from behind. They decide that they will need to go with full Takeda force to Nagashino to effectively cover Katsuyori’s backside. Sure enough, Ieyasu’s forces do show up and attack “The Mountain.” Kagemusha, playing the role of Shingen, sits unmoving on his stool while the courageous Takeda forces rally around him, defending him with their lives in some instances. The irony, of course, is that they are defending a common thief with their lives. Kagemusha, however, has successfully played the role as the clan’s central core that must be preserved at all cost. The presence of these Takeda forces allows Katsuyori to complete the destruction of the castle at Nagashino.

Back at home after this success, Kagemusha finally makes the strategic error of overplaying his role. He attempts to ride Shingen’s horse, but is thrown violently. Tending to his bruises, the concubines discover that this man who they thought to be Shingen does not have Shingen’s battle scars of which they have intimate knowledge. The jig is up and Kagemusha is exposed as a fraud. Now he is unceremoniously paid off and kicked out of the compound in a pounding rainstorm – like the common thief that he is. The generals conclude that they now have no choice but to accept Katsuyori as their lord, since the grandson is still not of age.

This proves disastrous for the clan because Katsuyori is overly aggressive and reckless in his determination to seek glory. While the Takeda clan had been invincible in military engagements featuring cavalry and lancers, Nobunaga has been in contact with Europeans. We see him receiving the blessing of three Catholic priests, for example, but, more importantly, Nobunaga has acquired countless muskets. Katsuyori sends his wind, forest, and fire regiments charging futilely against the muskets safely nestled behind a picket fence, destroying the Takeda clan forever. Kagemusha, now once again just a peasant onlooker, sees the Takeda horses and warriors slaughtered and decides to join them in an heroic if insane solo charge against the musket line, ultimately collapsing in the lake near the fallen Takeda banner.

(History records that Ieyasu Tokugawa went on to unite all of Japan by defeating his enemies at Sekigahara in 1600.)

Themes: Although a significant part of Kurosawa’s fame derived from his depictions of samurai and Japan’s history of bloody warfare, Kurosawa’s perspective on such violent spectacles was clearly deeply critical. For Kurosawa, war, violence, and the urge to acquire power and dominance are brutal and senseless affairs. Overall, the Japanese propensity for warfare was neither more nor less than the civilizations in China, Europe, or the Middle East, so Kurosawa’s reflections on the issue are easily seen as universal. In Kagemusha, Kurosawa used the novel device of introducing an outsider – a mere thief – to illustrate the extent to which so much of politics and warmongering is based on individuals playing prescribed roles rather than thinking clearly as individual human beings. The Takeda warriors fight just as ferociously and die just as courageously to protect a figurehead who is an impostor as one who was born into his position. By turning his camera away from the glamor of the battles and mainly showing only the bloody aftermath, Kurosawa conveys the idea that the clan era in Japanese history was less glorious than futile and pointless. Kurosawa pointedly questions whether violent, aggressive agendas are even consistent with true value in human existence. By keeping the film mostly serious and unrelentingly negative, Kurosawa denies viewers any heroic interpretation of this senseless bloodshed.

A related issue is the devastating effect of the European influence on Japanese culture and its destabilizing effect on the balance of power. The Takeda clan had perfected warfare under the existing tactics and armaments and were undefeated in battle. The introduction of rifles, however, turned the tide in favor of Nobunaga’s more modernly equipped troops. This early example of the “arms race” not only shifted ascendancy from one clan to another but increased the overall lethality of warfare as continues to be the case today. The bombs get larger and larger killing more and more people en masse. Sadly, it was Japan itself that suffered from the largest bomb blasts to date in human warfare, partly because their imaginations about the glories of warfare were still governed by heroic concepts left over from the era of samurai.

A second theme relates to human identity, particularly as it pertains to those who must play a role. Kagemusha struggles with the suppression of his own personality as he tries to impersonate Shingen. Nobukado commiserates with Kagemusha, saying, “I know it is difficult. I was for a long time the lord’s double. It was torture. It is not easy to suppress yourself to become another. Often I wanted to be myself and free.” It is to Kagemusha’s great credit that he succeeded as well as he did with the deception, winning over Takemaru and the concubines and thereby maintaining the morale of the clan and the troops in battle. As he gets better and better at being who he is not, he momentarily loses contact with the reality of who he is, and disastrously oversteps his limitations. He attempts to ride Shingen’s horse, and the jig is up. Kagemusha was playing a role but, more broadly, so are most of the other principal characters. The generals do what generals are supposed to do. Likewise the soldiers, the concubines, and the servants. Kagemusha can assume the role of the lord of the clan and can be recast in the role of a peasant and thrown out into the rain. Individuals come and go, but the societal formalities continue intact because other individuals step into each defined role. The trappings of power and ritualized ceremonies dictate outcomes more than the wills of individuals. This last point is arguably even more true of Japanese society than most others because it is so thoroughly steeped in formalities and rituals. Self is not a concept that is strongly fostered in Japan.

Production Values: Kagemusha is a glorious epic utilizing thousands of extras as well as gorgeous and colorful costumes and period detail. The fluid choreography of the battle scenes is spectacular, though Kurosawa would soon outdo himself with his next film, Ran. Viewers will find it helpful to pay attention to the insignia of the various units in order to keep track of who’s who. Nabunaga’s warriors carry a five-sectioned flower symbol in contrast to the four diamond insignia of the Takeda clan. You’ll also notice that you can identify the status of various characters in the domestic scenes by their haircuts. Generals have one kind of cut, servants another. As a period piece, this film succeeds admirably.

The cinematography for Kagemusha is excellent throughout and absolutely stunning in some individual scenes. There is one scene, for example, where a column of marching soldiers is silhouetted against a bright red-orange sunset. There’s a well-done bit of surrealism for Kagemusha’s dream. All of the scenes involving troop and cavalry movements are spectacular, with vivid color-coded uniforms. The soundtrack by Shinichiro Ikebe is not continuous, but instead highlights mainly the battle scenes, providing a sense of fatalism to these senseless conflicts.

Tatsuya Nakadai has the key roles in the film – both the title role and that of Shingen. His performance has both strengths and limitations. What’s most impressive is his ability to imbue his two parts with such clear differences that we feel like we are truly watching two different individuals. On the other hand, he doesn’t reveal enough of his motivations and ruminations to allow us to identify with him especially deeply. Nakadai also appeared in Yojimbo (1961), High and Low (1963), and Ran (1985). Tsutomu Yamazaki, who played Nobukado Takeda, also had roles in High and Low (1963), The Funeral (1984), Tampopo (1986), and A Taxing Woman (1987). I thought Kenichi Hagiwara quite effective as Katsuyori Takeda. Daisuke Ryu was superb as Nobunaga Oda. He later appeared in Ran. Kota Yui as the young heir, Takemaru, was utterly adorable and very nearly steals his scenes.

Bottom-Line: There is no denying the visual splendor of Kagemusha and the narrative is effective and engaging. While this film is not as great as either Ran or The Seven Samurai, very few other films are either. Kagemusha, in my opinion, is better than several other Kurosawa films that are acknowledged masterpieces. It was nominated for two Academy Awards: Best Foreign Language Film and Best Art Direction. It won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival in 1980, Best Foreign Film from both the New York Film Critics Circle and the French Academy of Cinema, and Best Direction from the British Academy Awards. If its reputation today suffers just a bit, it is mainly because the film is of the same ilk as its immediate Kurosawa successor, Ran, but not as spectacular. It always hurts a great film to be similar to an even greater one. Taken apart from any comparison with Ran, Kagemusha is a highly satisfying and compelling film. I highly recommend it. It is in Japanese with English subtitles and has a running time of 160 minutes.


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You might want to check out these other excellent films from Japan:

The Ballad of Narayama
The Burmese Harp
Chushingura
Drunken Angel
The Eel
Floating Weeds
Gate of Hell
The Hidden Fortress
High and Low
Ikiru
Kwaidan
Ran
Rashômon
Red Beard
Samurai 1: Musashi Miyamoto
Sanjuro
Sanshô, the Baliff
The Seven Samurai
Shall We Dance?
Stray Dog
The Woman in the Dunes
Yojimbo