Lone Wolf and Cub

Jake Mulligan READ TIME: 6 MIN.

"Lone Wolf and Cub" is a story that's been told in many forms. First it was a manga. Then it was a series of Japanese films. Then it was an American film edited from those Japanese films. And following those were remakes, republications, television programs, and all other sorts of adaptations. But in all those versions, the broad outline of the story remains the same: Ogami Itto, a samurai of the shogun during Japan's Edo period, is unjustly disgraced by his enemies, who then use his decreasing social favor as an opportunity to attack him, killing his wife in the process. Itto is expected to commit seppuku in response. Instead, he turns his blade outward and directs it toward those enemies. Along with his son, who rides in a "baby cart" in front of him, Itto begins to travel the landscape. He kills anyone who vexes him -- and anyone who has a price on their head, too.

The films that tell these tales -- the six made in Japan in the early 1970s, the most well-known of the group, are the ones included in the Criterion Collection's new "Lone Wolf and Cub" Blu-ray release --maintain a philosophical outlook inherited from other "chanbara" films of the era. They're concerned with "bushido," the samurai's code of honor, and the way that Itto (played by Tomisaburo Wakayama in all six entries) maintains it while also killing his way across the countryside. It's that combat that gives the film its more garish element: The six films are structured like action movies, with the combat deployed in a fashion closer to westerns than another samurai films. And when the blood flows, it flows freely (these are the sort of films that the geyser-style bloodshed of "Kill Bill" was borrowed from). As writer Patrick Macias puts it in the booklet that accompanies the release, these films land somewhere "between samurai kitsch and the sublimely classical."

"Sword of Vengeance" is the opening act of the series, showing Itto's betrayal at the hands of the Shadow Yagyu clan. It also shows the steps he takes and the decisions he makes in order to bring his motherless son Daigoro (Tomikawa Akihiro, also in all six features), his cub, along with him for his endless ride of vengeance (these play out in flashback -- in the present tense, Itto and Daigoro embed themselves within an village ripe with enemies ). The next entry, "Baby Cart at the River Styx," is the one that establishes the episodic, serial-style construction of the individual entries. Itto's campaign against the Yagyu is still a priority, but the picture also contains its own standalone narrative wherein Itto does battle with numerous classes of female ninjas, criminals, and assassins -- all of whom would like to collect his own life.

Third in the series is "Baby Cart to Hades," and we should mention that the title is not a literal one. The primary conflict sees Itto caught between two warring clans a la "Red Harvest" -- and in the middle of a religiously-oriented furor -- leaving him to decipher which side to aid. That said, the film's moniker is appropriate nonetheless: The tenor of these movies is defined by life-or-death stakes, extensive moral philosophical inquiries, and the ethics of payback and punishment. They're hellish. Much of this is surely due to Kinji Misumi, director of these first three films in the series, who throughout them all maintained a constant focus. in the narrative, the dialogue, and elsewhere, on the "bushido," the code of honor that guides all of Itto's actions.

His authorial voice becomes obvious once you reach "Baby Cart in Peril," the first film in the series not directed by Misumi. The narrative is typical of the series -- Itto and Daigoro become separated, each encounter potential enemies, then find each other just in time to fight in tandem, with the sword and the cart as their weapons -- but the lighthearted manner of the movie is anything but. (In the booklet, Macias refers to this entry as the "lowbrow" one.) The stories of these films might remain consistent, then, but their tone depends entirely on who is doing the telling. Misumi proved that himself by returning for the fifth entry, "Baby Cart in the Land of Demons," which returns to the philosophical obsessions of the first three films. One of its narratives sees Daigoro held responsible for another person's crime, but his sense of honor won't allow him to reveal the culprit, the character's code of honor being built into the narrative once again.

That would be the last film that Misumi director for the series, and once again, you can tell. "White Heaven in Hell," the sixth and final entry, is closer to gonzo than to Misumi's grace. The scant remaining enemies of Itto throw everything they have at the master swordsman, including the reanimated corpses of some previously-dead men. It's an eccentric note for the series to close on, but it also doesn't feel inappropriate; the constant in these movies, no matter the director, are the unyieldingly stoic performances of the two lead actors. And even when dueling with zombies, their sense for physicality maintains the gravitas and seriousness that began in the original manga series, and was then fostered on-set by Misumi. By the end of "White Heaven," Itto has not wiped out the entirety of the Yagyu clan. But that's not why we're watching. The center of this series, aside from the swordplay, is in the anguish that's imbued in each of the characters' psychologies. This saga may not reach its endpoint, but it still feels complete.

The Japanese edits of the "Lone Wolf and Cub" films have been made available on American home video before, but this is nonetheless the sort of definitive release that fans have long dreamed about. Each of the six films presented here have been sourced from new 2K digital restorations. And following that is a set of extra features dense enough to merit their own disc. Altogether, what you're getting here is a record of "Lone Wolf and Cub," and of the place that it held in popular culture. This set collects the most notable Japanese adaptations of the manga, but it isn't limited to them.

Included among the extra features are trailers for each of the six films, as well as a trailer for the English-language cut. A series of video interviews help to contextualize the production of the films: The first is with Kazuo Koike, author of the original manga series, who discusses the development of his own work, as well as his perspective on the film adaptations. The second is with Misumi biographer Kasuma Nozawa, who discusses other films and trademarks credited to the esteemed genre director. And the third is with Sensei Yoshimitsu Katsue, a headmaster within the system of martial arts that influenced the action choreography of the "Lone Wolf" films -- he gives an expert's insight into the techniques displayed in the film, as well as background on their history.

Further background on swordplay and the "Lone Wolf" stories is provided by two more special features, each of which are standalone films in their own right. The first, "The Sword of a Samurai," is a 1939 silent film which presents the creation of the eponymous weapon -- done here in Sekimachi, a location famed and storied for its steel-shaping traditions (the film itself runs for roughly 30 minutes, and can be viewed with English-language intertitles and/or an audio score track).

The second feature, "L'ame d'un Pere, L'ame d'un Sabre," is a more traditional extra feature, an informational documentary film that essentially profiles the six-film "Lone Wolf and Cub" series. Producers, directors, and other creative figures (including Koike) are all present, and they offer comments on various elements of the film in a chapter-by-chapter format (one section on cinematography, one on the source novels, one on the character work, and so on, all adding up to a rather comprehensive overview.)

Rounding out the third disc is the English-language edit we mentioned previously, "Shogun Assassin," which combines scenes from "Sword of Vengeance" and "River Styx" into one hyper-paced 80-minute bloodbath. The cut moves with the swift speed of Itto's sword, with the backstory from
the first film providing a prologue, and the combat from the second film comprising most of the remaining time. That construction gives the film a manic, shape-shifting edge -- the rapid-fire strikes offset, with complexity, by the main character's sober demeanor -- which probably helped to attract its English-language cult. Clips from this version have been scattered across pop media for decades, you've likely encountered them in works by Quentin Tarantino or the Wu-tang Clan. This is the iteration of "Lone Wolf" that most American audiences saw first. And Criterion's new Blu-ray box-set of the saga-one of their strongest and most comprehensive releases to-date-reveals the rest of the story.

"Lone Wolf and Cub"
Blu-ray (3 Discs)
$99.95
Criterion.com


by Jake Mulligan

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