47 Ronin

47 Ronin's emphasis on authenticity leaves it an altogether dour affair.
Tom Glasson
January 27, 2014

Overview

Much like its seemingly ageless leading man Keanu Reeves, the tale of The 47 Ronin is both several centuries old and beloved in Japan. Combining some of the most startling exemplars of courage, loyalty and honour, it's a sort of Kelly Gang meets Custer story in which a group of disavowed and banished Samurai (known as Ronin) stoically vow to avenge their master despite its absolute promise of death.

From a production standpoint, 47 Ronin unexpectedly delights, with the costumes in particular showcasing the very best union of imagination and authenticity. Alongside some extraordinary set design, the extravagant armour of the Samurai, ornate dresses of the concubines and opulence of the Shogun all inject dazzling colour into an otherwise entirely dark affair. Even the cinematography feels more dramatic and dour than might be assumed for an action movie, which largely represents both 47 Ronin's strength and failing.

That's because this is an entirely joyless film, and while no one should expect a story about retribution and mass suicide to be a laugh riot, there's almost always a little wriggle room for fun in an epic tale of witchcraft and warriors such as this. Truly, there is perhaps only one moment of levity in the entire movie and it comes at the expense of a fat man's 'moobs'.

As a result, there's a certain lifelessness to 47 Ronin which saps it of the potential to be a tremendously enjoyable movie. It is, instead, a bleak and brooding affair that plods from scene to scene instead of gallopping. Much is made up for in the final battle which, to be fair, is excellent and one of the better set pieces seen in recent times; however, it leaves you wishing the rest of the film had been delivered in a similarly spectacular manner.

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