By Steven Suskin
10 Sep 2006

Here we have someone who doesn't much like cowboy-and-Indian westerns, or war movies, or even rah-rah underdog-misfits-win-the-big-game affairs. And I don't speak a word of Japanese, outside restaurants. So how is it that I eagerly look forward to yet another viewing of Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai?

A village of peasant farmers, anticipating a visit by marauding brigands, hires a handful of Samurai warriors to protect them. The best the penniless farmers can afford are, needless to say, a broken down assortment of luckless misfits. It doesn't take a dramaturgical genius to guess precisely what happens. But out of this, Kurosawa creates one of the monumental works of art of the cinema. Kurosawa is to film as Mahler is to music; in no time at all, that minor matter of language seems inconsequential. The director tells his story with his camera and with his faces (or the faces of his actors, principals and extras alike). The three Hs — heart, humanity and humor — come across in a manner that will keep you returning to watch again and again.

Kurosawa, more than most directors, paints with actors; in his hands, they all seem expert. ("Seven Samurai" is awash with innovative filmmaking techniques, but that is — enjoyment-wise — beside the point.) Toshiro Mifune is unquestionably the star, as he was in Kurosawa's "Rashomon" and "Yojimbo." Mifune (1920-1997) was Japan's most famous actor, at least on the international level; and yes, the man is quite something. His Samurai comrades each give highly memorable performances, remarkably so considering that they are non-familiar faces (outside their native country) and they are — after all — speaking Japanese. Seiji Miyaguchi is perhaps my favorite, next to Mifune; he plays Kyuzo, the expert swordsman, although I can probably best describe him as the one who looks like a cross between Buster Keaton and Margaret Hamilton.

Criterion has given the film their grandest treatment, with a stunning transfer; while not filmed in widescreen, this is one film that you'll be glad to watch on a state-of-the-art widescreen TV. The two-DVD film is accompanied by a third disc, highlighted by the two-hour, 1993 Kurosawa interview "My Life in Cinema." Special features abound, with the accompanying booklet including appreciations by Arthur Penn and Sidney Lumet. Akira Kurosawa's masterpiece among masterpieces is not a movie, really; it is an experience. Leave yourself a good three hours. "Seven Samurai" is to be savored.

—Steven Suskin, author of "Second Act Trouble," "A Must See! Brilliant Broadway Artwork," "Show Tunes" and the "Opening Night on Broadway" books. He can be reached at Ssuskin@aol.com.