It starts like a simple road trip: a young samurai, Sakawa Kojuro, heading to Edo with two attendants — Genpachi carrying the spear, Genta carrying everything else. But the longer they’re on the Tokaido, the more the film looks past rank and ceremony to the people getting crushed by them.
I love how unforced it feels at first: odd encounters, sly humour, life happening at the edges. Then Uchida quietly turns the screw. The film doesn’t polish the samurai code; it asks what it costs. Who gets protected, who gets sacrificed, and what “duty” means when it’s someone else’s pain.
Chiezo Kataoka is terrific as Genpachi, decent and watchful until he can’t stay polite. Daisuke Kato gives Genta warmth and bite. Kojuro carries an uneasy edge too — the sort who turns ugly once the drink’s in. When it finally erupts, it’s not a flourish. It’s a blow.