Plot Details: This opinion reveals minor details about the movie's plot.

According the official rulebook of movie reviewing, section 8.05h (an amendment added May 25, 1977), "all discussions of Akira Kurosawa's 'The Hidden Fortress' must commence with a detailed analysis of said movie's influence on George Lucas' 'Star Wars'".

Okay, I'll bite. Here's a quick plot summary:

The story is told from the perspective of two lowly and bickering secondary characters¹, whom we are first introduced to as they walk alone in the desert. The taller one is more adept at language, while the shorter one communicates with a series of indiscernible noises. The shorter one, despite his lack of strength and stiff gait, is the more mobile of the two. The taller one is often clumsy. These two characters, through a series of convoluted circumstances (that in at least one instance involves a massive rebel revolt), meet up with an old warrior and join his ragtag gang in a quest to save a princess. Their interplay breaks up much of the dramatic tension, and is often based on the lowliest kinds of comedy; pratfalls and silly noises rule their day.

Is it "Star Wars"? Is it "The Hidden Fortress"? Stop! You're both right! Actually, if you're a fanboy looking for a deeper understanding of the "Star Wars" ethos here, you'll probably be disappointed. Other than the plot similarities above, and a propensity towards using horizontal wipes, there's not much in common between the opening act of Lucas' space opera and this, one of Kurosawa's lesser samurai pictures.

Set during the feudal wars of 16th century Japan, in and around the three warring territories of Hayakama, Akizuki, and Yamana, "The Hidden Fortress" follows the travels of two peasants, Tahei and Matakishi. They long ago sold their homes to acquire weapons of warfare, and then, ineptly, were captured and lost those weapons to the enemy. Now they wander through the countryside of Akizuki, looking for a quick buck and an excuse to head home to Hayakama. A series of heavily guarded borders, however, impedes their progress. But a chance encounter with some gold-filled sticks, a chance meeting with a mysterious wild man, and a moment of pure inspiration all conspire to set the two lowly men down a path that will either give them their freedom, or destroy them.

Minoru Chiaki plays Tahei, the tallest of the pair (if you're thinking this makes him C-3PO, think again). He also played my favourite character in "Seven Samurai", the affable Heihachi. Tahei is far less genial than Heihachi, and plenty of notches below him on the old Intelligence Pole. Kamatari Fujiwara plays his partner-in-petty-crime Matakishi (not R2-D2). Kamatari was also in "Seven Samurai", as the shortsighted father Manzo. Together they form a winning if inept comic duo; kind of like the Eastern version of Abbott & Costello, Laurel & Hardy, or Cheech & Chong, except with a lot more yelling and a bit of "Treasure of the Sierra Madre"-style gold lust ("Bushido? We don't need no stinkin' Bushido!").

Much of the comedic relief in the film -- of which there's so much I'm almost inclined to file "The Hidden Fortress" in the humour section -- comes from the bumbling antics of Tahei and Matakishi. One scene has them caught in a desperate game of charades, trying to trick the Princess into thinking they're just taking the horses off for some water, when in fact they intend to steal the gold. After several torturous minutes, they lose their sense of direction, and the plan is foiled. And maybe it's just the result of an incompetent translation (From Criterion? How dare you!), but much of their dialogue, especially in the scenes with the most bickering, is hilariously anachronistic. Can you imagine anyone in 16th century Japan, even fellows as lowly as this pair, saying things like: "If someone else notices it, we're screwed!" or "You can stuff your orders!" or "He's full of crap!" This is hardly the poetic and philosophical gold of "Seven Samurai" we're dealing with, here. Which, in the end, certainly colours "The Hidden Fortress" as a second-tier, if still enjoyable, Kurosawa film.

Kurosawa stalwart Toshirô Mifune, you'll probably be surprised to find, plays merely a sideman in this circus. He is Rokurota Makabe, a legendary general in the Akizuki army, sworn enemy of Yamana, and protector of the Princess' safety. Mifune, in what I'm starting to think of as a Kurosawa trademark, doesn't appear until around the 20-minute mark (about the same amount of time he stayed out of "Seven Samurai"). And even then, you don't recognize him right away. He's first seen in a far off glimpse through a break between two mountains. Later, he emerges from the darkness to sit at a campfire, keeping his back turned. When he finally deigns to face the camera, a thick beard covers his face. But the eyes are pure Mifune: wild and intense, full of controlled fury. That being said, this is the first Mifune performance I've seen that can't be described as 'feral', and provides nary a moment of comic relief. Rokurota is a cunning man, well schooled in the art of combat, and, even though he is prone to creating moments punctuated by primal screams, is certainly a man in touch with the rules of his culture.

Despite his status as a secondary character, Mifune is still given several stunning sequences to show off his well-developed physicality. A death-defying horse chase leads directly into an extended spear duel with one General Hyoe Tadokoro (played by Susumu Fujita). Having little credibility as a real fight (unlike the messy climactic duel from "Rashomon"), the sequence instead goes for poetic beauty, as the two men, honourable warriors both, do a delicious danse macabre.

Misa Uehara, who plays Princess Yuki, is a much stronger presence than the women in the other Kurosawa films I've seen (which is a rather short list, consisting mainly of Keiko Tsushima, the lachrymose young lover from "Seven Samurai", and Fumiko Honma, the beautiful but vapid object of desire from "Rashomon"). She sports a hilarious set of evil Michael Keaton eyebrows and what appears to be an off-the-rack pair of khaki shorts. Hardly fitting for a woman of her class. Which is one of the central themes of "The Hidden Fortress". It may not make much sense for a modern Western audience, but the fact that the Princess can travel through enemy territory looking as she does and not get caught, as long as she hides her powers of speech by pretending to be a mute, is a powerful point to make about the class structure of the society in question, while serving as a functioning narrative device.

There's also a strong misidentification theme running through the film. Besides the intentional deception used to hide the Princess, the other three main characters, at one point or another, are mistaken for someone they're not. Early on in the film Tahei and Matakishi complain, while walking through the desert, that their own army didn't recognize them. Thus, the two peasants were forced to dig mass graves for enemy corpses. General Rokurota, when he first appears, is believed to be a gold-digging bandit. In an ironic twist, when he meets up with rival General Hyoe, his enemy recognizes him immediately. Even the 200 pieces of gold that Tahei and Matakishi find are hidden within 200 wooden sticks.

It's a no-brainer to say that Kurosawa is a master behind the camera. By the time he made "The Hidden Fortress", the man already had "The Idiot", "Seven Samurai", and "Throne of Blood" under his belt (with the spaghetti western-inspiring "Yojimbo" and "Sanjuro" in the on-deck circles). The unique thing about "The Hidden Fortress" is that it was the first film Kurosawa shot in the new so-called Tohoscope format (the Japanese clone of Cinemascope, i.e. a 2.35:1 widescreen aspect ratio). The imagery he captures in this new medium is quite stunning. The mountain ranges surrounding the titular location look as if they touch the sky. He gets a lot of mileage out of using a Jonathan Demme-esque face-front one-shot (is it fair to call it Demme-esque when Kurosawa was using this technique nearly 20 years before Demme ever stepped on a movie set?). And the wider screen gives more space to capture the visceral intensity of the horseback chase sequence.

The one quibble I have with Kurosawa's technique, a quibble I also had with the opening walking-in-the-woods scene from "Rashomon", is his tendency to let tense or dramatic moments go on too long. This wasn't a problem during the spear fight, when the plethora of action distracted you from the length. But I did notice the film begin to drag during some of the Tahei/Matakishi alone moments. Specifically, a scene where they are searching through a pond for gold sticks, and one where they are forced by General Rokurota to climb up a tall rocky incline. This latter sequence went on so long that I, the viewer, had to set up my own base camp in the middle of it, and give my Sherpa guides a coffee break! That being said, one of the film's most moving scenes comes when a plan goes awry, and our gang finds themselves dancing in a Yamanan Fire Festival. Kurosawa actually cuts this scene short, but not before delivering a powerful emotional punch.

Dancing around a bonfire (the sight of Mifune, with his resolute visage, caught up in the joy of the dance, is an image of powerfully stunning contrast), our heroes join in a poignant sing-a-long:

The life of a man
Burn it with the fire
The life of an insect
Throw it in the fire
Ponder and you'll see
The world is dark
And this floating world
Is a dream

Needless to say, this song, so cynical and yet so retributive, makes a couple of return engagements later in the film, to raise the emotional level of the denouement to great heights.

In the end, "The Hidden Fortress" is one of Kurosawa's lesser works. Which is kind of like comparing it to the number nine hitter on the 1927 New York Yankees; even the worst of the lot can take you out of the park if you're not careful. Its themes aren't nearly as pregnant as the perfect "Seven Samurai", but it does give the viewer enough action, drama, and, dare I say it, comedy, to pacify even the most ardent Kurosawa fans.

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¹George Lucas, in an 8-minute interview included on the Criterion Collection DVD of "The Hidden Fortress", admits that he got the idea to tell "Star Wars" from the perspective of C-3PO and R2-D2 after watching Kurosawa's film. But he also claims that any other similarity, other than the stylistic ones, is purely coincidental.

Then again, he also claims Jar-Jar Binks was a good idea. So take his word for what it's worth.

Recommended: Yes

Viewing Format: DVD