Starring: Tatsuya Nakadai, Rentaro Mikuni, Akira Ishihama, et al. Directed by: Masaki Kobayashi.
Samurai’s ‘Lone Wolf’Ahead of our online sale of Samurai arms and armour, Japanese film legend Tatsuya Nakadai discusses sword fighting and how he learned to play some of the greatest Samurai roles of all timeIn the history of Japanese cinema, few faces are as beloved and recognised as Tatsuya Nakadai’s. Discovered in the early 1950s by legendary director MasakiKobayashi, the young, handsome, and dynamic actor — often referred to as the ‘Japanese James Dean’ — went on to star in many of the most important Japanesefilms of the post-war era; films like Kobayashi’s Harakiri and nine-and-a-half-hour World War II epic, The Human Condition, MikioNaruse’s When a Woman Ascends the Stairs, and Akira Kurosawa’s Ran and Sanjuro which are considered to be among the great achievements of world cinema.At 82, Nakadai has appeared in some 160 films, and continues to act today.
His characters have included everything from jilted lovers to war prisoners toface-transplant patients. But his roles playing Samurai in films like Harakiri and Sanjuro (as well as a bit part in Kurosawa’s seminal Seven Samurai) are perhaps his most widely adored — often played alongside the inimitable Toshiro Mifune. Ahead of a Christie’s (20 November to 4 December), the venerable actor spoke about learning to play a Samurai, sword-fighting with Mifune, and his favouriteSamurai films of all time.In your opinion, why has the most important Samurai cinema — especially the films of Kurosawa and Kobayashi — been so celebratedin post-war and contemporary Japan?Tatsuya Nakadai:‘In contemporary Japan there’s a kind of nostalgia for the past.
In terms of why Samurai have gained a certain international acclaim, it’s partly due to theachievement of individual directors like Kurosawa and Kobayashi. Like Westerns in America — putting aside the question of whether they are good orbad — Samurai films are uniquely Japanese. For instance, the Samurai has a bit of Confucianism to him, a bit of Buddhism, a certain kind of solitude. There’sthis essential theme of beating the bad guys and saving the weak, plus an element of entertainment. I think those points are key to making Samurai filmspopular.’How is that ‘certain kind of solitude’ expressed in the Samurai?‘Well, he’s what you’d call the “lone wolf,” right?
Take the film Harakiri, which I was in. You have the lone man fighting against the evilestablishment in a kind of resistance drama, brought together with entertainment value; that’s one archetype of Samurai film. I came out of the shingekinew drama movement, doing a lot of Shakespeare and things like that. I think that background influenced my work in Japanese Samurai films.’Tatsuya Nakadai (in black) in Harakiri (also known as Seppuku), 1962. Why do you think the Samurai stories of Japan have had such far-reaching international appeal?‘I don’t really know, but I’ll speak from my own experience. I was once in a spaghetti Western with the director Tonino Cervi.
I was in it with American andItalian actors, but I’m horrible at languages — at English. I couldn’t join in when everyone was chatting. Instead I just sat there quietly. And since I wasalways quiet, Cervi would say, “Keep quiet like Nakadai. He’s a Samurai.” But I just couldn’t speak English.‘I think that, from a foreign perspective, people see the Samurai as silent and decorous, in a good sense. To quote a proverb, “A samurai never breaks hisword.” He’s quiet, but once he’s compelled to draw his sword he’s powerful.’How did you, as a modern actor, prepare for the Samurai roles you played?‘We trained very thoroughly — how to sit, how to wear a kimono — in a certain traditional Japanese manners, including how to perform a tea ceremony.
And welearned how to walk, because when you’re carrying a sword you walk completely differently from people today. Our source for all of that was the traditionalJapanese theatrical form, kabuki. We don’t know what real Samurai were like, so we trained extensively in the carriage, movements, and swordplay of Samuraias depicted in historical plays.’‘He’s quiet, but once he’s compelled to draw his sword he’s powerful’What was the swordplay training like?‘To give you an example, there’s a duel at the end of Kurosawa’s Sanjuro, in which I end up being killed by actor Toshiro Mifune. But the scriptended by saying that it was impossible to convey this heroic scene in words. The director gave us no input whatsoever as to how we should fight. Instead, Ispent about three weeks being trained in a traditional sword-fighting technique called the iainuki, which is for situations like if you’re in thebathroom and your enemy ambushes you.
If you draw your sword horizontally in that small space, it will knock into the walls and you won’t be able to fight.This technique taught you how to draw a sword and cut down an enemy in a confined space.‘Meanwhile, Mifune was off learning his own techniques, with no idea what I was studying. When the scene was shot, neither of us knew what the other wasgoing to do, but in an instant I was sliced through. That was how Kurosawa made movies.
We’d spend close to a year making a movie, longer than one wouldtoday.’Click to watch vintage 1930s film footage of a master Japanese swordsmith at workI understand you often used real Samurai swords on set during filming back then.‘I used real swords a number of times, but most extensively in Harakiri. We had what’s called a tateshi swordplay choreographer whotaught us how to use the swords and duel. With Harakiri, our tateshi was the top kendo fighter in Japan. I got a thorough education inhow to use a real sword. The reason we used real swords was that the director, Kobayashi, thought that bamboo swords were too light. They’re made frombamboo layered with silver leaf. He wanted to show the heaviness of the swords, so my main opponent Tetsuro Tanba and I spent ten days or so practicingwith real swords.
Because the swords are real, if you do it wrong you can hurt each other, so we would train between scenes.‘Compared to ordinary sword-fight scenes, I think there was a much greater sense of weight in Harakiri. Because the swords were heavier than the bambooswords, we lost a bit of speed, but I feel like that sense of heaviness and the terror of swords comes through on screen.’Tatsuya Nakadai in Kagemusha, 1980. Do you collect any Samurai artefacts — swords, suits of armour, etc?‘I have two swords, but unfortunately I don’t have any helmets or suits of armour. Swords need constant care, so I take mine to a specialist shop from time totime, because they get rusty. I don’t know their value but I’m told that they are very traditional and extremely excellent swords, not the type to betraded.’What are your favourite Samurai films you’ve appeared in?‘If someone were to ask me on my deathbed what my best film was, I think I’d say it was Harakiri, which I made when I was 29.
You could say my mostimportant work was finished by the time I was 29! So I’d like to put Harakiri on the list.
Next is Yojimbo. And then there’s a directornamed Kihachi Okamoto, who did a film called The Sword of Doom — this was a very difficult film for me, one that’s been made into a movie many timesin Japan.
Then there’s Ran — the last film I did with Kurosawa. Before that, I took over for the actor Shintaro Katsu in Kurosawa’s Kagemusha, which won the Grand Prix at Cannes.
Lastly, there’s Hideo Gosha’s Goyokin, which is a little bit different from an ordinarySamurai film.’Do you incorporate any Samurai values into your daily life?‘I’m quieter than average, and a bit solitary. I think maybe those characteristics have something in common with the positive elements of a Samurai. I worked hard as a film actor, but essentially I’m a theatre actor. For sixty-some years I served those two masters, but I never signed with a filmcompany.
Maybe you can call that lone wolf behaviour a connection.’From a phone interview by Toshiko Adilman and Marty Gross; translated and edited with Winifred BirdMain image: © Photos 12/Alamy; Nakadai in Harakiri © Photos 12/Alamy; Nakadai in Kagemusha © Moviestore Collection Ltd/Alamy.
Japanese leading man, an important star and one of the handful of Japanese actors well known outside Japan. Nakadai was a tall handsome clerk in a Tokyo shop when director encountered him and cast him in (1956). Nakadai was subsequently cast in the lead role in Kobayashi's monumental trilogy 'Ningen no joken' and became a star whose international acclaim rivaled that of countryman. Like Mifune, Nakadai worked frequently with director and indeed more or less replaced Mifune as Kurosawa's principal leading man after the well-known falling out between Mifune and Kurosawa.
His appearances for Kurosawa in (1980) and (1985) are among the most indelible in the director's oeuvre.- IMDb Mini Biography By:Spouse (1) Tomoe Ryu(1957 -1996) ( her death)Trade Mark (2). Although it was commonplace for actors, evening leading men, in Japan to do their own stunt work in the 1950s through at least the 1970s (when actor's union laws enforced safer conditions on sets), the film sets of were particularly dangerous for Nakadai. During the filming of 'The Human Condition', Nakadai was actually beaten by other actors in a boot-camp scene where his character Kaji is brutalized for rebelling against more experienced soldiers. According to Nakadai, the swelling of his face and some of the blood is real on this scene. Later in The Human Condition, his character collapses in a frozen field and is covered by snow, this was real snow and done by Nakadai himself, who came very near to hypothermia. During the filming of (1962) real, sharp samurai swords were used in the battle scenes (according to Nakadai, this is not his only samurai film where real swords were used but is the only one where absolutely no dull, stage swords were utilized), much to Nakadai's very reasonable concern, since a mistimed slash could have been fatal for him or the other actors. Amazingly, no one was seriously injured during filming.
Was not initially considered by Kurosawa for the part of Unosuke (Mifune's formidable gun-wielding opponent) in Yojimbo. When the chief assistant director Shiro Moritani proposed Nakadai for the role, Kurosawa purportedly replied 'I don't like Nakadai, and if a director does not like an actor, he should not cast him as one of the leads.' As Nakadai's skills were already widely recognized in Japan at that time, the AD found the Kurosawa's reply strange and inquired which of Nakadai's movies the director had seen. The reply was none, as Kurosawa usually did not watch domestic films. Soon after, having watched all of Nakadai's films, Kurosawa came up with his own proposal: 'How about Nakadai for Yojimbo?' Japanese cinema was very focused on capturing both the ordinary and the extraordinary, so a lot of the things that we captured tended to be existentialist, as well.
In the films, there were influences by Camus or Sartre, different philosophers. In the theater, we referred to Brecht, so in that sense there was a lot of inclination towards existentialism and extraordinary references were very strong.
In that sense, I thought this piece - that was based on Abe Kobo's work - was something altogether very different from works by Kurosawa, for instance. If someone were to ask me on my deathbed what my best film was, I think I'd say it was Harakiri, which I made when I was 29. You could say my most important work was finished by the time I was 29! So I'd like to put (1962) on the list.
Next is (1961). And then there's a director named, who did a film called The Sword of Doom - this was a very difficult film for me, one that's been made into a movie many times in Japan. Then there's (1985) - the last film I did with Kurosawa.
Before that, I took over for the actor in Kurosawa's (1980), which won the Grand Prix at Cannes. Lastly, there's Hideo Gosha's (1969), which is a little bit different from an ordinary Samurai film. In reference to Japanese actors, while here in New York, whenever have free time, I take in a Broadway show.
I intend to watch eight shows before I leave this time. American actors on stage, I'm struck by how powerful and skillful they are, and at the same time that I'm inspired, I also feel very regretful and sorrowful because I cannot say the same thing about Japanese actors. My generation of actors - not only actors, but directors - went through so much training and I wonder why the younger generation of Japanese actors today don't train as hard?