Underrated Gems #3: The Last Samurai (2003)

Directed by Edward Zwick. Starring Tom Cruise and Ken Watanabe.

“Life is in every breath.”

When someone says, “historical epic,” what comes to mind? For many readers here, it will most likely be Gladiator. For others, perhaps Ben-Hur. Numerous examples spring to mind. Why? Because the historical epic, or “swords and sandals,” genre is one of the longest-running genres in Hollywood history…while simultaneously being one of the hardest to keep consistently around (much to this writer’s chagrin).

The historical epic was once a mainstay of Hollywood. Ben-Hur, The Ten Commandments, Spartacus, Jason and the Argonauts ­— these were the reasons people left home to go to the movies together. This era, however, died a loud, dramatic, expensive death in 1963 with the infamous Cleopatra. Its soaring budget and salacious behind the scenes journey to the big screen made studios think twice about the genre and pivot to smaller, cheaper, character-driven movies again. The rise of the blockbuster would come just a decade later, but, by then, public tastes had moved on. Sci-fi and adventure were the draws now, rather than tales from Ancient Rome.

There were attempts to bring it back in the decades that followed, here and there — one only needs to look to Braveheart in 1995 — but it was not until 2000 that the historical epic found its resurgence. Gladiator changed everything, with its popularity — both at the box office and at the Academy Awards — leading to everyone in town working to bring more historical epics to the big screen. The historical epic, at long last, was back.

Until, very quickly, it was not again. This “renaissance” of the genre was over again within five years, thanks to expensive misfires such as Troy, Alexander, and Kingdom of Heaven (the values of some of these, particularly Kingdom of Heaven, is for another article). As a result, any 2000s historical epic not named Gladiator is often forgotten in the near-quarter century since.

And yet, one historical epic in particular from this era should be remembered: 2003’s The Last Samurai. It feels weird to say that a Tom Cruise movie that was the 6^th biggest film of 2003 and was nominated for four Academy Awards is now an underrated or, worse, forgotten gem, but if you ask your friends, the answer is often the same:

“Oh yeah! That movie! I haven’t seen that since I was a teenager.”

“Love the score in that. I think the movie was good too? It’s been a really long time.”

“Was that before or after the couch incident?” (Answer: it was before. All was still well in Cruiseville at the time).

Why does The Last Samurai deserve to be revisited all these years later? From a surface level, the production value alone deserves a second look. Frankly, movies rarely look this good anymore. The set design, the sweeping vistas, the silhouettes of characters painted against an orange dawn — there is a thoughtful, painterly quality to everything on display here. The battle scenes, which drew many a teenager to the movie in the early 2000s, are handsomely mounted, clearly choreographed, and thrilling. And yes, that Hans Zimmer score that was referenced above? It still does stir.

These are all fine reasons to revisit a movie. But it is the story, the direction, and the performances that deserve the second look above all. Coming off the enormous success of Gladiator, writer John Logan continued to scratch the historical epic itch, making The Last Samurai his next movie. What he came up with is a film perhaps more reflective and more thoughtful than his 2000 Best Picture-winner, with The Last Samurai presenting a clear modernity vs. tradition narrative that positions a traditional society as far superior to the modernism being forced into Japan by powers both within and without. Some may interpret this bold take as liberal guilt over the role of the West in history, but I believe it more akin to what J.R.R. Tolkien wrote about so many years ago in The Lord of the Rings, when he put his heroes clearly in opposition to industrialism. There are reasons why societies have traditions and morals — traditions and morals that should not so lightly be tossed away in favor of progress.

The film, directed assuredly by Ed Zwick, follows Cruise’s cynical, hard-drinking Civil War veteran Nathan Algren, who is hired by Americans to train an army for the Japanese emperor, who wants to push his country into the modern world — much to the dismay, and anger, of the traditionalists of his country, particularly the samurai. Algren is forced to lead his lackluster troops into battle against the samurai, a battle he of course loses. Rather than be killed, he is instead taken as a prisoner by samurai leader Katsumoto, played impressively by Ken Watanabe in the role that would make him a Hollywood star.

Katsumoto (Watanabe) and Algren (Cruise)

It is in this middle section of the film that The Last Samurai’s true nature is revealed. Algren and Katsumoto have a series of conversations as they learn more about each other, with both growing in the process. Algren, who found himself disillusioned by war, especially regarding “God’s purpose,” finds in the discipline, peace, and tradition of the samurai a taste for the spiritual again. Here, the film could easily descend into Dances with Wolves territory, but it instead goes a step further than that film, focusing more and more attention on Katsumoto and his struggles between upholding the traditions of the samurai and following his duties to the emperor.

Before the film ramps up into its gigantic, impressive climax, literally between the modernity of the West and the tradition of the East, the core theme of the film is best articulated in a conversation between Algren and Katsumoto — one of their last.

“The way of the samurai is not necessary anymore.”

“Necessary? What could be more necessary?”

The final battle is reminiscent of the famed Battle of Thermopylae — a fact commented on by the very characters in the film. If you know how that battle ended, you probably have an idea how this one does as well. The themes of the film run right from the beginning to this compelling, bloody end: honor, tradition, and morality, both dying with them, and, perhaps, even more importantly, living with them.

The Last Samurai’s performances are a large reason for its success. Watanabe, who earned a Best Supporting Actor nomination at the Academy Awards for his performance, became a highly sought-after actor in the years that followed, appearing in Batman Begins, Letters From Iwo Jima, Inception, and Godzilla. Hiroyuki Sanada, who plays Ujio, found his own international breakthrough as a result of the film, appearing later in Lost, The Wolverine, Avengers: Endgame, John Wick 4, and Shogun. And of course, there is the Cruise of it all. The Last Samurai appeared in the middle of an incredible five-year stretch for the biggest movie star of all time, in which he worked with Stanley Kubrick, Paul Thomas Anderson, Steven Spielberg, Michael Mann, and, finally, Zwick. He was at the peak of his powers here, and his performance, at times both explosive and incredibly restrained, helps lend the film its staying power.

Handsomely mounted. Exquisitely shot. The Last Samurai is a classic Hollywood production, stripped of the cynicism, the flashiness, and the excess of modern times. Just five years later, Marvel’s dominance began. But in the early 2000s, films like this one still existed, and still became some of the biggest films of the year.

The Last Samurai is not discussed so much anymore. It should be.

Epics like this one are not made so often anymore. They should be.

The Last Samurai may have gotten lost in the shuffle of film history, but it deserves another glance, both to remember what Hollywood once was and what it can be again. Who knows: maybe Cruise, after Mission: Impossible is complete, has another one of these left in him. This writer certainly hopes so.