Hidden Fortress is Akira Kurosawa's slightly odd mix of samurai epic and slapstick comedy. It's an excellent film, but compared to many of Kurosawa's other samurai films — Ran, Throne of Blood, Seven Samurai, or Yojimbo — it's strictly a second tier effort (second tier Kurosawa is better than the best of 99.9% of all directors). However, in the past 25 years, Hidden Fortress has been adopted by fan boys because it contains various elements that George Lucas borrowed for Star Wars.

That's not a reason to see Hidden Fortress. Or at least not a good reason. While Lucas acknowledges the influence of Hidden Fortress the actual similarities are pretty superificial and most of the links that people try to make between the two films can also be made to dozens of the multi-national legends which inspired Lucas. Anybody who chooses to review Hidden Fortress as if it were adapted into Star Wars is viewing the film in a very particular and not entirely helpful manner. Sure, you'll notice things in common, but open an Grimm fairy tale and you'll be able to make some of the same links. Joseph Campbell never assumed that there was an ultimate source of the legends he analyzed, so you certainly shouldn't go into Hidden Fortress suspecting that it'll help you appreciate Star Wars.

What you will get is Kurosawa's flawless visual sense and his surprising sense of humor arising from performances that range from hilarious to typically iconic.

In the midst of a board dispute between three clans, two peasants, Tahei (Minoru Chiaki) and Matakishi (Kamatari Fujiwara) are having a tough time of it. First they sold their houses for weapons to go off to war, but then they arrived at the war late. To matters worse, they get mistaken for the wrong side and are taken prisoner and forced to dig graves. They escape and flee, split up and are captured, are reunited and escape again. And this all happens within ten minutes. Tahei and Matakishi tire and light a fire, when they discover that the wood they're using won't burn because its stuffed with gold. This excites them, but also draws the attention of a mysterious stranger (Toshiro Mifune), who promises to help them transport the gold across the border. The stranger admits that his name is Rokurota Makabe, but the two peasants don't believe him, since they know that Rokurota Makabe is a famous general. Rokurota Makabe is protecting Princess Yukihime (Misa Uehara) in a hidden fortress in the mountains, but when a rival clan discovers their location, the general, princess, and peasants must flee. They leave with two goals, transporting the gold and restoring the princess to power in her homeland. Rokurota is devoted only to his duty and the peasants are devoted only to the gold, so they run at cross-purposes on several occasions.

In the featurette that goes with the DVD of Hidden Fortress George Lucas says that while any plot similarities between Kurosawa's film and Star Wars were happy accidents, the Tahei and Matakishi characters inspired R2-D2 andC3-P0. The inspiration wasn't necessarily direct and you probably shouldn't try comparing dialogue or anything, but the idea of telling the story from the point of view of the lowest character seems to have gotten to Lucas. Of course, the two droids don't really narrate Star Wars. Nor are they really the focus of the story. They're supporting character, sidekicks. In this respect, Lucas *may* have had the right idea.

Tahei and Matakishi are bumbling fools and they're also totally the main characters of the story. They're greedy and corrupt and very very different from Luke and Leia's robotic amigos. They're endearing and funny characters, but for me, they're only good to a point. After a while, their difficulties become a little frustrating. Watching stupid people for 90 minutes can be fun and Jim Carrey's career is proof of that. But a threshhold exists and in a 140 minute film, there may be such a thing as too much comic relief. Both actors were Kurosawa regulars and both men are hilarious, but let's get real — when you've got Toshiro Mifune around, you want to watch Toshiro Mifune.

In my mind, Mifune is the Japanese Steve McQueen. Don't worry. I know that's ridiculous. Steve McQueen is the American Toshiro Mifune. It doesn't matter how silly Mifune's costuming is (his shorts in Hidden Fortress may be skimpy, but they're much less revealing than whatever he's wearing in Seven Samurai), the man is one of the greatest screen presences in the history of international cinema. If you can think of more than five or ten actors in the same class, you're being generous. Here, Mifune is in the background for the film's first half, though he steps out of the shadow of the sidekicks for a superior spear duel. As Mifune supporting roles, this isn't as colorful as his crazy wannabe samurai Kikuchiyo in Seven Samurai and the character has nowhere near the dramatic heft of his starring performance as the Macbeth proxy in Throne of Blood. That doesn't mean you can take your eyes off of him. The character of Rokurota Makabe has moments where we see his frustration at being unable to help the princess and his changing place in the new world order. But since the film is mostly through the eyes of Tahei and Matakishi, Mifune mostly finds himself playing the bully, laughing in the faces of the peasants.

The film's most interesting social commentary is manifested through the character of Princess Yukihime (I don't know any Japanese... is the "Princess" part redundant if I include the "-hime" suffix?). Forced to conceal her true identity, the princess is able to experience life among the common people. In "disguise" she is able to see the plight of women who aren't born into priviledge. It's interesting that in order to pretend to be common, Yuki must pretend to be a mute. I'm not sure if this is because her pattern of speach seems over-educated, or because her willingness to speak her mind sets her apart from most women. The performances in this film fit in the Japanese theatrical tradition in which frequently one expression or motion is repeated to stand for the character's "type." Misa Uehara, as the princess, defines her character by her defiance. The character's hands are always on her hips, feet apart. This stature sets her apart, though she is always instantly sexualized by characters who don't know her identity. Inevitably, spending time among the common people gives Yuki an appreciation of the Japanese code of honor and how it sometimes doesn't reflect decency. Like Mifune's character, the princess may be young, but she's already nearly a relic of another time.

The theme of ancient cultures clashing with modernity is a Kurosawa favorite. Note how frequently he features noble samurai fighting in the old ways with the old weapons contrasted by the invading hoards who inevitably fire guns.

With this film, Kurosawa can't get into as much period depth because of his choice to aim for frequent doses of physical comedy. It should come as no suprise that the director is totally adroit at the funny stuff. Note the early scene in which the two peasants attempt to scale a mountain whose surface is made up of broken rocks. The keep scurrying up several feet and then skittering back down the hill. The camera follows them up and skitters down with them. As always, Kurosawa's camerawork is the kind of stuff you can't learn in film school. Watch how the camera never moves just for the sake of moving. Every pan or tilt is directed motivated by character actions. Even in dialogue scenes, when the camera moves, it's not to freshen the frame, but to establish alterations in character dynamics. It's just a gorgeously fluid style even if by this time, Kurosawa already seemed to be paying homage to himself.

Kurosawa also had an excellent grasp of the magical image. In his earlier black-and-white period films his frames are on the spare side (compare this film to the well-managed chaos of Ran), but he knows how to use the minimalist approach to maximum effect. Of particular beauty is the fire ceremony that the traveling party must participate in in order not to attract attention. The characters join a crowd in dancing and singing around a flickering bonfire and it feels almost like a classical Hollywood musical. Then there are also trademark Kurosawa scenes in the fog and the rain. The man knows how to use to mystery of nature to excellent effect.

If you're a fan of Kurosawa's super-epics, Hidden Fortress may be the slightest bit disappointing. The action scenes are generally secondary to the comedy and, as I've said, the comedy sometimes becomes a bit tiring. But the gender and classic critiques lend the film some depth, even if the bumbling protagonists sometimes make you forget. Regarding the Star Wars comparisons, Hidden Fortress shouldn't be seen just to see the roots of Lucas's creativity. It should be seen as a lesser work of a film master, but a great film nonetheless. The proper context for viewing it is in light of Kurosawa's work, or the samurai cinema tradition. The Star Wars connection shouldn't be more than a cute footnote.

Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD