Live Action Anime

Ninja Scroll

Format: Movie (91 minutes)
Genre: Action, Historical, Samurai, Drama
Studio: Madhouse
Director: Yoshiaki Kawajiri

If one were to try to encapsulate in one word the regard in which 1993’s ultraviolent cult classic Ninja Scroll is held among anime fans, “famous” doesn’t quite hit the mark. “Notorious” comes closer; “infamous”, perhaps nearer still. This is, after all, the movie which wasn’t even available in its full, uncut form in the UK until Manga Entertainment’s release of the tenth anniversary edition in 2005, which restored the 52 seconds of footage containing an explicit rape scene that had been cut since 1995. That fact alone should give you some idea of the audience that Ninja Scroll was originally being pitched to, coming as it did off the wave of minimal-budget, ludicrously gory movies and OVAs the likes of which Manga Entertainment was foisting on the VHS market by the putrescent bucketload in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. And yet, while the vast majority of those productions have receded into the mists of obscurity to the gratitude and relief of all, Ninja Scroll is one such anachronism which still clings on to our collective consciousness. Now why might that be?

Well, some, such as ANN, might argue that Ninja Scroll is a kind of standard bearer, a necessary reminder of the bad old days when anime was something to be furtively smuggled out of Blockbuster Video in an inside jacket pocket alongside a copy of I Spit On Your Grave. I however, take a rather simpler view; that once one waves away the mists of myth and infamy surrounding Ninja Scroll, you’re left with what is simply a really, really good movie.

Of course, at no point does Ninja Scroll aspire to be a work of art, or anything beyond an excellent piece of genre entertainment. What makes it arguably a classic and worthy of a place in any aficionado’s collection is that each of its individual elements are so expertly honed and refined that they come together to form a unique and memorable experience. While all of the processes involved in making a film like this are geared towards an essentially disposable B-movie, in this instance all of those processes are individually so accomplished that when they come together, they create something more, something legitimately special.

Firstly, take the story itself. Set in feudal Japan against the backdrop of the Tokugawa Shogunate having wrested power from the Toyotomi, we find a small village having apparently been wiped out by plague. Suspecting (rightly) foul play, a local clan sends a squad of ninja to investigate, only for them to be wiped out by the mysterious and powerful Eight Devils of Kimon, who operate from the shadows with a power-hungry agenda. In this fray, ronin and master swordsman Kibagami Jubei inadvertently finds himself mixed up. After a violent encounter with one of the Eight Devils, Jubei finds himself poisoned and blackmailed by the diminutive Tokugawa spy Dakuan, who offers Jubei an antidote if he helps track down the Eight Devils, discover their plans and put a stop to them. What’s more, Jubei has a history with Himuro Gemma, the man who allegedly leads the Kimon ninja, and yet who Jubei swears he killed five years before.

A far cry from the excuse of a plot meant only to set up the opportunity for so much sex, magic and bloodshed that you might expect, Ninja Scroll crafts a steady, quick-paced yet elaborate narrative that remains consistently engaging and exciting. Other action movies ought to watch Ninja Scroll and take notes when it comes to pacing. At a sparse 91 minutes, it has nary an extraneous scene in its entire running time, weaving a fine mesh of intrigue on the part of both its heroes and its villains even while the narrative maintains a taut, staccato rhythm propelled by regular explosive set pieces as Jubei encounters each of the Eight Devils of Kimon in turn.

There’s a distinct trials-of-Hercules flavour to Jubei’s quest, each threat he faces stranger and more deadly than the last, among them including a giant man who can transform himself into solid rock, a spear-wielding hunchback who can summon swarms of millions of hornets, and a ninja who can conceal himself in shadows and psychically compel others to do his bidding. It all contrives to keep both Jubei and the audience constantly off-balance, demanding every drop of the hero’s resourcefulness and more than a little luck to emerge alive. While in the back of our minds, we know that the plot mandates that Jubei emerges triumphant, that voice of knowledge is shushed by the events on screen which compel us to doubt whether this time, he can really make it out alive. That doubt is the hallmark of an exceptionally well made action movie.

It helps that the characterisation is also strong enough that we genuinely care about the fate of the characters. Kudos go in particular to Jubei, whom I hold as one of anime’s most affable and admirable protagonists. In him one finds a loving rendition of the classic world-weary samurai archetype, and while he has ample opportunity to demonstrate what a badass he is (“If you were Shogun of the Dark, you’d make this a world of devils. If you enjoy their company so much, then go back to hell!”), he still remains a fallible, relatable, human hero. He shows fear; he‘s initially reluctant to carry out his task; more than once, he’s bested in one-on-one combat. He’s not by any means superhuman, but despite that, in the face of his sheer resolve and wilfulness through adversity we find ourselves compelled to cheer for him.

Special mention is also deserved by the film’s female lead, ninja woman Kagero, a cold, unsympathetic figure who shuns Jubei’s trust and camaraderie. Her initially less-than-endearing fatalistic personality is explained when we learn that, in her years working as a poison taster for her clan, her blood has been imbued with properties of venom, and anyone who comes into sexual contact with her dies. This twist on the usual “ice-queen” anime archetype turns a character who first seems like another reprisal of an old formula into a unique, tragic and remarkably sympathetic heroine. The dwarfish Dakuan is smug and obnoxious, and yet also strangely likeable. He’s played for a bit of welcome comic relief in an otherwise grim film with his strange mannerisms and bizarre character design, but he’s equally the tip of the spear when it comes to the intrigue side of the film, being clearly more intelligent, if less principled, than his comrades. The cast is rounded out by antagonist Himuro Gemma, who spends most of the film cloaked in the enigma of his ambiguous history with Jubei. When he finally reveals himself in the film’s third act, he’s a force to be reckoned with, a cunning and ruthless villain who’s able to match (and exceed) Jubei’s strength, skill and resourcefulness pound-for-pound. The eventual face-off between the two is, in the fullest sense of the word, epic.

I won’t lie; in many respects, age hasn’t been kind to Ninja Scroll. Excepting a few isolated instances of gorgeous artwork, the animation consistently suffers from the abhorred corner-cutting practices of repeated animation loops and excessive still frames. The situation isn’t helped by the hokey and undernourished orchestral score which seems determined to drag the film back down to the level of the B-feature it goes to such lengths to raise itself above. However, these problems are largely offset by Yoshiaki Kawajiri’s directing job. Let’s for a moment disregard some of his lesser endeavours (he was responsible for 2000’s cheese-fest action horror Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust, and an animated Highlander sequel can scarcely be a mark in favour of any director’s career); the man knows how to work action within the medium of animation. His editing during the fight sequences is so tight and compelling that one can almost completely forget the technical issues marring them, the stylised bloodshed eliciting gasps every few minutes. If anyone can make still frames and speed lines seem like a stylistic choice rather than a technical demerit, Kawajiri’s your man. Additionally, he’s to be commended for the use of a strikingly vibrant and varied colour palette to create the feeling of a full and fleshed-out world, one of darkness and obscenity, but also beauty and humanity.

If you’re at all familiar with Golden Age Hollywood, you’ll probably know the story about the production of Casablanca. Unlike Citizen Kane, the other American film of the era with which it is so often compared in stature and significance, Casablanca was never originally conceived as anything particularly special. Despite an A-list cast, it entered into production as “just another” Hollywood romance the likes of which were commonplace in the ‘30s and ‘40s. Due to the cumulative excellence of all its component parts however, upon release it received unyielding popular and critical acclaim, going on to become one of the most revered and beloved films of all time.

Do you see where I’m going with this?

While Ninja Scroll is, of course, a thousand miles from Casablanca in every other possible respect, in terms of its production there are comparisons to be drawn. At its heart, Ninja Scroll is trash; cheap, gratuitous, B-list nonsense which shouldn’t be remembered a month after release, let alone the better part of two decades. It has no right to be as good as it is, and yet, by dint of the sheer craft involved in every facet of its production, it becomes one of the most entertaining and memorable bits of action in anime history. Yes, it’s dated; yes, it’s anachronistic; yes, it’s essentially a crowd-pleaser, but none of that matters compared to the rare, exquisite action-movie thrill it provides. Even today, Ninja Scroll is still relevant, and still demands to be seen.

Thrasher’s Rating: ***½

Rating System:

* – Horrible
*1/2 – Very Bad
** – Bad
**1/2 – Good
*** – Very Good
***1/2 – Excellent
**** – Masterpiece