An intelligent interpretation, Murdoch; but unfortunately it rests entirely on how Mifune appears to be feeling. This is a curious base for your argument given that Sanjuro is incessantly pretending that he is not feeling what he is actually feeling. The more he insults a person, the more he actually cares for their well-being. This character trait is raised more explicitly in Sanjuro, where it gets the title character into some trouble, but it is present too in Yojimbo.

As for Sanjuro carrying out heroic acts because it is demanded of him by the archetype he inhabits in the film, I could see how this would be convincing if one were to take Sanjuro's reactions at face value. Going on that, his decision to intervene in the couple's lives would seem arbitrary. I personally don't agree that Kurosawa is forcing a typical bad-guy, or an amoral trickster, into a heroic fomula. I rather think he's indicating how outward manner and inward conviction need not reflect one another as they so often do in action pictures; that a hero need not be defined by his bearing, nor adopt a particular and identifiable pose. Sanjuro's motives are genuine, it's his reactions to them that are not. Sanjuro's non-chalance is part of Kurosawa's parodistic irony. When Sanjuro shrugs his shoulders at the end of Yojimbo and cheerfully walks off, it's not because the whole affair meant nothing to him. It's just part of his character, and his charm: always a wry grin or an amusing comment, even in the midst of horror. Where at the beginning the tavern-keeper thought this non-chalance was genuine amorality, and was hostile to Sanjuro and pestered him to leave--by the end he's come to see the genuine qualities behind Sanjuro's gruffer or more impish mannerisms. Part of Yojimbo's fun is watching the hero behave like a lout rather than, say, a stoic philosopher or a saint.

Anyway, I can understand why someone might prefer Sanjuro to Yojimbo: the former is certainly a more loveable movie (tho' I personally enjoy the latter's grotesque humour equally well). You ought to check it out.

I agree with Mr_S that you should check out Sanjuro regardless of your feelings about Yojimbo. Yojimbo left me a bit cold, but I flat out loved Sanjuro. I do think Yojimbo LOOKS a bit better than Sanjuro (overall).

My interpretation also rests on my poor remembrance, it is by no means a film I dislike and you are likely right in that I'm reading it too much based on the surface, my position is certainly not set in stone. I look forward to a viewing of Sanjuro as it may alter my stance, Yojimbo is a film I find to be very challenging to my perceptions of cinema and the hero archetype so returning to it will perhaps yield a more implicit reading on my part.

I like to think of Yojimbo as generally from the perspective of the Mifune character gazing out at the town; Sanjuro is the perspective of the town gazing in at the Mifune character.

I quite like Yojimbo for the wry amusement Mifune displays in his performance towards all these people caught up in petty feuds and the way that the lives of the two clans (and the town itself, as seen by the thriving coffin trade and regularly timetabled standoffs!) has become completely defined by conflict - into a cycle of tit-for-tat retributative violence that everyone seems happy with. After all if there wasn't constant conflict, what would be the purpose of the clans and the town then - how would it be run and who would provide the jobs?

I think if Mifune's character was truly nihilistic towards the situation he would leave things the way they are, letting the cycle of violence continue. Instead he pushes the rather comfortable situation of mutually assured destruction and attitude to casual violence that the two clans have with each other over the line into total annihilation in order to, in a way, cleanse the town of its cancerous disease.

I agree with Murdoch that Mifune has fun playing the clans off against one another but the moment on the tower comes towards the climax of his methodical way of escalating tensions between either side, edging the two clans towards the full blown conflict that they both pretend that they want but which will be devastating for their symbiotic relationship if they actually do have it. Unfortunately they get saved from having to battle just in time by the news of the Inspector's visit, causing both sides to retreat in order to put on a sham facade of idyllic village life until he leaves and they can get back to business.

It is quite a politically astute film, if you wish to read it that way.

At the same time, Mifune is also methodically decimating both sides to ensure that neither side gains the upper hand in their war of attrition. He doesn't want to give one side or the other the advantage to destroy their rivals and take over the town completely. He wants them both to be destroyed so that what remains of the village can be saved, and the young men will not see going off to join either gang as the only viable career option open to them, while the young women will not have to become prostituted (But there is a cynical attitude to these young people, since they have, like the victims in Salo in a way, internalised and maybe unconsciously accepted the violent values of their new society as being legitimate).

The appearance of Nakadai and his gun is really what pushes the situation to a head as his alliance will now be the crucial factor in which side could become victorious (shades of Kagemusha). Plus this causes Mifune himself to then lose the element of mystery he as been cultivating as an 'ultimate warrior' who could turn the tide of battle depending on who he allied himself with, which he has been using to manipulate both sides.

I also agree with Murdoch that the ending, after Mifune is victorious, can seem rather abrupt. But I think it is still more devastating for Mifune than the town he leaves behind - he may have decimated the town of its ruling merchant classes but he has removed the cancer at the heart of it. The town may rebuild itself or be too weak to continue and die, but at least it will not pose a threat to the entire area as it once did, threatening to extend its malign influence once the petty local feuds were resolved. Rebuilding is not Mifune's problem though - he has turned the remains of the town into wandering ronin like himself, but at least they have the basic infrastructure and what remains of a previously oppressed population to attempt to remake themselves (even if it is just old men and women left to do that rebuilding now). His acknowledgement of being just as much a part of turmoil and conflict is reflected in the way that he immediately leaves after the final battle and before the town has a chance to move on without providing a place for him (as the samurai characters sadly find happens in Seven Samurai).

To lower the tone a little (but to give a connection to that dog with the severed hand in its mouth!), just like The Littlest Hobo, his fate is to travel from town to town, righting wrongs and then moving on!

Sanjuro is fascinating for the way in which, instead of trying to push everyone into a decimating, but also morally cleansing, conflict, Mifune's character is trying to preserve the fundamental decency within the system. To use a broad medical analogy again instead of the need for a drastic amputation of a diseased limb to save the patient, here Mifune needs to be a surgeon delicately applying pressure (and bloody violence!) to specific areas before the rot becomes too widespread. That takes the form of (foreshadowing Red Beard) gruffly disabusing people of wrong attitudes they may form and instead judging based on actions and motivations rather than purely on appearances.

Then of course there is Zatoichi VS Yojimbo, pairing Katsu Shintaro and Mifune Toshiro together.

I have a question either for our Japanese members, or for Nihonophiles, regarding a brief ritual, apparently for good luck, performed in both Yojimbo and Naruse's Flowing. The ritual involves what looks like a small block in one hand and a small stick in the other, which are struck together as if striking a flint.

In Yojimbo, the silk merchant’s wife performs this gesture before the first aborted clash between gangs, first in front of Mifune and then in front of another one of the fighters. (It occurs just before Mifune casts the money he's been given at their feet, and reveals that he's overheard their plot to kill him).

In Flowing, the gesture occurs two occasions, both as one of the geisha is leaving for an appointment.

In neither film can I make out precisely what the two objects are.

Can anyone explain what this ritual is?

Can anyone tell me Is the Yojimbo/Sanjuro Blu-ray Box Set 2 separate cases or 2 discs in 1 case?

2 separate cases

The ritual in question might involve a prayer block?

Bingo! Thanks, Telemonides. What an informative and nicely written article. Professor of Fireology sounds like a fun job.

Ambrose, those prayer blocks are interesting. I've seen something similar but less formal in Catholic churches -- prayers written on scraps of paper and tacked to a bulletin board. And I suppose the Prayer Wall in Jerusalem is another cousin of that practice.

Your welcome. I too had wondered about that for many years. Those articles by Alice are very useful for understanding Japanese culture.

What on earth happened at the end of Yojimbo? That was very silly and strange.

The bad guys all got killed, what was so silly?

After that.

The prayer drum guy was very odd. Then the guy runs into that house and gets stabbed, Mifune says "go kill yourself," and that's pretty much it. No idea what was going on at the end there.

The guy with the prayer drum, who you should've seen a couple of times throughout the movie, kills his bitter rival, the sake house owner, the guy who more or less drove him to his despair. The scene in the tavern where Yojimbo is told all about the town and its inhabitants explains everything.

That scene is also one in which a non-samurai uses a weapon traditionally reserved for the samurai class, furthering the overall sense of the class system collapsing in favor of the bourgeois and undercutting Sanjuro's own victory over the future.