Currently Binging - Zatoichi: The Television Series

I have a bad habit of not actually watching the DVDs and Blu-rays that I buy. Case in point: I purchased the first season of the Zatoichi television series at a comic book convention years ago (courtesy of Media Blasters, distributors of only the most extreme and obscure content), and I’m just now getting around to popping it in. Because I’m so starved for fresh adventures in the Blind Swordsman saga (having seen all of the feature films, including bootlegs and spinoffs) that I can’t afford to ignore it anymore.

In terms of content, tone, and production value, the show isn’t drastically different from the movies that inspired it. In each episode, our hero wanders into a new town or village, gets swept up in the local drama, befriends an orphan or two, charms all the ladies, swindles greedy gamblers, and effortlessly vanquishes any foe foolish enough to cross swords with him. It’s definitely formulaic, but hey, the formula works, and there are enough subtle variations to keep things from getting too stale.

As always, leading man/producer (and occasional director) Shintaro Katsu plays a huge role in keeping the action grounded; whether he’s mirthfully chuckling at his own expense or noisily slurping noodles mid-battle, his performance humanizes his superhuman character, while his graceful choreography lends the stylized fight scenes a sense of weight and authenticity. Sure, there are a few recycled plot points. So what? It’s the cinematic equivalent of comfort food, and that familiar flavor never fails to satisfy. I look forward to enjoying several more helpings, and I’ll be sad when the meal finally, inevitably ends.

I thought this review was complete, but the series’ third episode is so fantastic that it deserves special attention.

Zatoichi tales written and/or directed by Katsu himself (particularly the borderline nihilistic Zatoichi in Desperation) tend to be more introspective, meditating on his iconic character’s flaws and shortcomings, and “A Memorial Day and the Bell of Life” is no exception. Because of his physical handicap, Ichi instinctively lashes out against any attacker, rarely considering the consequences—but here, he’s forced to confront the heartbroken daughter of a slain ronin who was merely honoring an obligation to a yakuza boss that provided him food and hospitality.

This theme is reinforced by the presence of Monji, one of the franchise’s most compelling rival swordsmen (“I can be a good guy or a bad guy, depending on the situation,” he proudly proclaims). Our hero fails to recognize this enigmatic figure on two occasions, with dire repercussions. The first is when he rescues Ichi from drowning, explaining that he’s repaying a debt; it takes Ichi quite a while to remember that he spared the man’s life in the opening scene, due to a longstanding vow to never spill blood on the anniversary of his mother’s death. Monji resolves to act as his bodyguard until the day is over, and Ichi gradually grows to admire his grit and moral code. Later, however, Monji wordlessly ambushes Ichi, hoping to test his skills now that both of their oaths have been fulfilled. Ichi cuts him down without a moment of hesitation, only realizing what he’s done after finding his newfound friend’s discarded cloak.

And the end credits roll over the image of our devastated protagonist’s visage as the full weight of his violent lifestyle utterly shatters him.

Disaster struck while I was watching the Zatoichi television series: a very, very minor scratch on one of the discs caused the best episode so far to skip several seconds of footage, right in the middle of a deliciously suspenseful scene (a huge pet peeve of mine). 

Obviously, this unfortunate event hasn’t diminished my overall enjoyment of the show, but it has severely soured my mood, so I’m temporarily pausing this particular binge—at least until I determine that my PS4 didn’t cause the damage.

Currently Binging - Zatoichi: The Television Series

I have a bad habit of not actually watching the DVDs and Blu-rays that I buy. Case in point: I purchased the first season of the Zatoichi television series at a comic book convention years ago (courtesy of Media Blasters, distributors of only the most extreme and obscure content), and I’m just now getting around to popping it in. Because I’m so starved for fresh adventures in the Blind Swordsman saga (having seen all of the feature films, including bootlegs and spinoffs) that I can’t afford to ignore it anymore.

In terms of content, tone, and production value, the show isn’t drastically different from the movies that inspired it. In each episode, our hero wanders into a new town or village, gets swept up in the local drama, befriends an orphan or two, charms all the ladies, swindles greedy gamblers, and effortlessly vanquishes any foe foolish enough to cross swords with him. It’s definitely formulaic, but hey, the formula works, and there are enough subtle variations to keep things from getting too stale.

As always, leading man/producer (and occasional director) Shintaro Katsu plays a huge role in keeping the action grounded; whether he’s mirthfully chuckling at his own expense or noisily slurping noodles mid-battle, his performance humanizes his superhuman character, while his graceful choreography lends the stylized fight scenes a sense of weight and authenticity. Sure, there are a few recycled plot points. So what? It’s the cinematic equivalent of comfort food, and that familiar flavor never fails to satisfy. I look forward to enjoying several more helpings, and I’ll be sad when the meal finally, inevitably ends.

I thought this review was complete, but the series’ third episode is so fantastic that it deserves special attention.

Zatoichi tales written and/or directed by Katsu himself (particularly the borderline nihilistic Zatoichi in Desperation) tend to be more introspective, meditating on his iconic character's flaws and shortcomings, and “A Memorial Day and the Bell of Life” is no exception. Because of his physical handicap, Ichi instinctively lashes out against any attacker, rarely considering the consequences—but here, he’s forced to confront the heartbroken daughter of a slain ronin who was merely honoring an obligation to a yakuza boss that provided him food and hospitality.

This theme is reinforced by the presence of Monji, one of the franchise’s most compelling rival swordsmen (“I can be a good guy or a bad guy, depending on the situation,” he proudly proclaims). Our hero fails to recognize this enigmatic figure on two occasions, with dire repercussions. The first is when he rescues Ichi from drowning, explaining that he’s repaying a debt; it takes Ichi quite a while to remember that he spared the man’s life in the opening scene, due to a longstanding vow to never spill blood on the anniversary of his mother’s death. Monji resolves to act as his bodyguard until the day is over, and Ichi gradually grows to admire his grit and moral code. Later, however, Monji wordlessly ambushes Ichi, hoping to test his skills now that both of their oaths have been fulfilled. Ichi cuts him down without a moment of hesitation, only realizing what he’s done after finding his newfound friend’s discarded cloak.

And the end credits roll over the image of our devastated protagonist’s visage as the full weight of his violent lifestyle utterly shatters him.