Made between 1972 and 1974, the Lone Wolf and Cub films were six movies following the exploits of deposed Shogun’s executioner Ogami Itto. Framed for treason by the treacherous Yagyu clan of ninja (who also kill his wife), Ogami sets out seeking vengeance—along with his infant son Daigoro. What follows are six of the greatest samurai films ever made—movies packed to the brim with action, pathos, and some of the most violent and stylish swordplay ever captured on film.

Unfortunately, imports of Japanese samurai films weren’t really big business at the time—so, the Lone Wolf and Cub films weren’t readily available in America until around the 1990s, when they finally got a laserdisc and VHS release courtesy of Animeigo’s Samurai Cinema line.

However, in an attempt to bring this groundbreaking series of uber cool films to American audiences, Robert Houston and crew released Shogun Assassin in 1980. Shogun Assassin was an anglicized clip version of the first two Lone Wolf films, re-edited, dubbed into English, and featuring a new score. Until the Animeigo releases, this was essentially the only way one could actually see this classic samurai series.

To fit two films into one movie (albeit one with a running time of only 86 minutes) means that cuts have to be made. Because of this, one would assume that the narrative of Shogun Assassin is a jumbled mess—but such is not the case. What Robert Houston has done is take Kenji Misumi’s first two films, eliminated everything that wasn’t essential to the plot, kept all the action scenes, and re-cut it into a lean, mean, entertaining-as-hell samurai film. Granted, this version loses a lot of characterization, the period detail, and some of the finer nuances of the plot—but for cramming two separate films into one, it works surprisingly well. In fact, those who haven’t actually seen the first two films in the series probably won’t notice that this version is a compilation.

Another excellent decision that Houston and company made was to have Daigoro (who’s largely silent in the Japanese films) serve as the narrator in Shogun Assassin. Daigoro brings an interesting human element to the series, and makes Ogami a more likeable character (Ogami, as one would expect, is a rather stoic individual). Daigoro even gets to inject a little comedy into the film, particularly when he discusses how his father has told him not to count how many people they’ve killed—only to pray for the dead. Daigoro then informs us that he has to keep count of the dead, or else he wouldn’t know how many people to pray for—a number that currently stands at 342. A few seconds later, he tells us that number is now 345.

What is slightly disappointing about Shogun Assassin is also something most people cite as its greatest strength. In editing the film down, the action is fast and furious—which isn’t entirely true of the original versions of these films. Granted, all of the Lone Wolf movies are more action filled than your standard Kurosawa film, but they’re not quite the orgy of violence and bloodshed featured in Shogun Assassin.

Despite the excellent job that Houston has done in re-interpreting the source material, the real reason Shogun Assassin works is because of Tomisaburo Wakayama. Wakayama is easily my favorite of the screen samurais—more stoic than Katsu Shintaro and Toshiro Mifune, and flat out more intimidating than either. His prodigious skill with the sword is showcased on multiple occasions in Shogun Assassin, as the man turns into a human Cuisinart set to puree whenever he draws the katana.

The beauty isn’t just in the copious bloodshed, though—it’s in how the blood is shed. Much like Hong Kong action cinema, there’s a ballet-like feel to the violence in the Lone Wolf films. Each fight is like an elaborately choreographed dance, with Ogami chopping through hordes of enemies without ever expending any more effort than is absolutely necessary. The fight sequences are poetic—almost haiku-like in their execution—and should be studied by anyone contemplating a career as a director of action cinema.

The greatest irony of Shogun Assassin is that the film was created to bring the Ogami Itto saga to American audiences who didn’t have access to the original films. Now, it’s far easier to find the legitimate Japanese versions than it is the Americanized compilation. Ideally, I’d recommend that anyone who’s interested in the Lone Wolf films see the original six in their complete forms. However, that doesn’t mean that I don’t highly recommend Shogun Assassin as well. The re-telling of the events of the first two films is quite interesting—and the more action-oriented pace is sure to appeal to fans who like things fast and furious. Ultimately, any real fan will want to see all seven of the films—as it should be.


Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: VHS
Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening