Action in Rurouni Kenshin: The Final blazes and seethes. In this world, space has seemingly forgotten its primacy over human movement and gravity. This is a film—or the film—whose makers knew already which button to push and we have nothing else to do but to react when swords cut across faces, and time is suspended for us to feel skill and grace—or even the sacred and the poetic—in moments that are about destruction and pain.
Kenshin is a ronin, a term that has entered the vocabulary of all samurai otaku (fan or obsessed fanatic). A ronin is a samurai without a master; this is the romance of history. No one talks about the disappearance or abolition of the “han” or domains—those large pieces of land that supply the wealth to a castle town; this is the politics of Kenshin.
Kenshin, of course, has a double claim to exoticism because he is called a “rurounin,” a name that is coined by the writer, Watsuki Nobuhiro. Combining “ruru” with “ronin,” he comes up with a wanderer. But this is just one of the many ways of looking at Kenshin. We can dwell on his name, which means “a change of heart.” Wouldn’t that be more appropriate for this tale about the sea change taking place in 1879, or the years before that? We cannot stop there as Kenshin is also dubbed the “Battosai,” which refers to one who draws swords. Hidden is the label before that, Hitokiri, or the manslayer, the one who cuts (kiri) a man.
Rurouni Kenshin: The Final opens with the bloodiest battle between those defending the shogun, the Bakumatsu, and those fighting to bring back to power the emperor. This is the battle where the Tokugawa shogunate encounters the pro-Imperial forces, with the latter emerging victorious.
There is chaos in the air during these years. The shogun resigns and hands over the power to the Emperor who is 14 years old (some say, 15 or 16) during this period, and not exactly healthy. Later, the shogun rescinds the resignation but it is too late.
Thus, in that most dramatic and heady opening, Kenshin throws his sword down as he accepts with resignation the arrival of a new era. As he is about to walk away, another warrior, Saito Hajime, sees him and declares how he will continue to fight. Kenshin vanishes. When we see him next, he is Himura Kenshin, an ordinary man, a wanderer.
The next scene re-introduces Saito Hajime, the samurai who saw Kenshin give up his sword. Hajime is already part of the police force.
Hajime is at the train station because he is looking for Yukishiro Enishi. Fresh from Shanghai and working with the mafia from that place, Enishi is also looking for someone—Himura Kenshin.
Enishi shows his fighting form. Awesome. But he allows himself to be arrested by the police officer, Hajime. This is a new world. There are treaties now between Japan and China, in this case, between Japan and Shanghai. Enishi is released.
Bombings take place. Edo is in chaos. Kenshin is forced to come out and fight even if he carries a “sakabato”, a reverse-blade sword. Remember, when Kenshin leaves his sword half-buried in the ground, he swears not to kill again. The sword he carries is meant to neutralize the enemy, not to kill him.
I stop telling the story at this point for fear that I may inadvertently release spoilers.
Allow me to share my awe in the fight scenes of this Kenshin. We are in the moment of these fighters who float and flit with the angst and grandeur of the majestic stereotypes created out of manga and anime plus all those wonderful “chambara” (swordsfight) from Mizoguchi to Kurosawa Akira and, do not forget, the master of gore, Hideo Gosha.
Consider, too, the many facets of Kenshin and why we are lost in his charm. Kenshin remains part of the “shonen” tradition, those everlastingly young male heroes. Slightly older perhaps, Kenshin, as played by Takeru Satoh, fulfils the requisites of the beautiful male. With that alluring red hair, Kenshin is no more the samurai with the shaved head. Recall: In Gohatto by the irrepressible and legendary Oshima Nagisa (In the Realm of Passion; In the Realm of the Senses), the unshaved locks of a young warrior awaken the daddy in the heart of many of the tested brave samurai.
In Rurouni Kenshin: The Final, Kenshin meets up with an enemy, Enishi. In the pure loveliness of Mackenyu, Enishi is both an enemy and a lover. There is a complexity: Enishi seems obsessed with his sister. But allow me not to continue with the narrative and instead focus on the pacing of the film.
Notice how the breathtaking action scenes suddenly cease as the screen fills up with quiet moments. It is as if we are thrust into the Japanese aesthetic of “Jo-ha-kyu.” This philosophical principle is about effacement, modulation and movement. It can be expressed in the form of a “beginning,” a “break,” and a “rapid” action. This is about building up and quickly terminating.
Be stunned with the leaps, which escalate into hacking, which ends with Kenshin, his head tilted, his weight on one foot, and the other splayed. Gaze at how the “hakama,” the skirt-like part worn over the kimono, is arrayed with bravado. This dress aesthetic is reserved for Kenshin. Mackenyu/Enishi may have the mie (extreme close-ups) but he is devoid of any link to a cultured past. Think Zen. Think Noh. Think Kabuki.
But where is the change that Kenshin embraces at the start? It is there—spoiler alert—when he extends his hand to the girl he now loves. This samurai can love. In the perfect world of men, the perfect man has allowed the entry of a woman.
Rurouni Kenshin:The Final premiered on April 23, 2021 in Japanese theaters. It was released on Netflix on June 18, 2021.