I ordered this after seeing Higuchi’s “Hidden Fortress – Last Princess” by accident. That is a film made with great technical skill and beautiful use of colour. This one, however, is the better film. They are both, in truth, fairy tales and the realistic use of colour in the 2008 version is excellent – beautiful, indeed – but somehow withdraws both the sharpness and tension of the story and the suspension of disbelief which is essential for the best fairy tales. After all, “Hidden Fortress” was directed by Kurosawa, and that in itself guarantees all that is needed. The tension and sense of threat is pretty near continuous, while Kurosawa’s sense of humanity and compassion are ever present. The actual filming and setting deserve study – on those grounds the film is a model. It has all the direct strength of black and white so that the realism of colour does not distract from the essence of the action and there is no reliance on clever effects ... but I have a bee in my bonnet about that!
I had some doubts as I watched; perhaps there are some flaws? The two peasant conscripts are indeed cleverly used to give the main characters a foreground – but are they a bit too naïve, clownish and greedy ... they certainly are very noisy? Does that noisiness distort the balance of the story? (I have a problem in many Japanese films with the sound of Japanese dialogue: why does it seem to sound so harsh, fast and aggressive when in fact quite ordinary things are being said? Distracting.) The successive narrow scrapes and escapes, and Makabe’s superhuman martial successes strain credence – if you pause and think. Similarly, the happy ending pushes possible likelihood rather hard! Would any Japanese princess have ridden horses astride quite so readily? (It is easy to understand Japanese doubts about Kurosawa’s yielding to western influences ...) A fairy story ... a parable ... a very fine film.
Some films get treated like the bonus track on a greatest-hits album: loads of fun, therefore “minor”. The Hidden Fortress has worn that label for years—big crowd-pleaser in Japan, then downgraded to a Star Wars trivia card. Which is a shame, because it’s bracingly unsentimental about what “entertainment” can include.
If you want to play spot-the-influence, the parallels are easy to see. Tahei and Matashichi are the bickering point-of-view pair (ancestors of C-3PO and R2-D2, if the droids were hungrier, nastier, and constantly trying to profit). Princess Yuki is a clear template for Leia: royal, stubborn, and allergic to shrinking herself to keep men comfortable. And Mifune’s General Rokurota Makabe is the seasoned protector figure—often compared to Obi-Wan, but with more swagger and visible grief under the armour.
What I love is how Kurosawa refuses the cosy “proto-droids” myth. The opening makes war ugly and class brutal; the peasants aren’t loveable scamps, they’re selfish scavengers. That moral mess is the contrast that makes the film’s decency feel earned. Yuki’s compassion—especially towards a young woman trapped in sexual exploitation—has real consequences and forces the group to behave like humans, not just survivors.
It’s a chase movie and a road movie at once, shot in widescreen that keeps pushing people to opposite edges of the frame until you can feel the distrust. Its biggest “crime” is being this much fun—and that’s exactly why it belongs at the top table.