The last time I watched and reviewed a Zatoichi movie here (with Zatoichi's Vengeance), I made the analogy of it being a kind of cinematic comfort food - flavorful enough to hold my attention but also reassuringly familiar so that it goes down easy and conjures up good feelings along the way. But after sitting down to dig into installment #14 in the series, Zatoichi's Pilgrimage, I'm pleasantly surprised to discern that I bit into something that feels a bit more substantial this time around. Maybe it's the contribution of the screenwriter enlisted for this one. Kaneto Shindo, director of 1964's international art house ghost story sensation Onibaba, is a credit that stood out to me when I saw the name up on the screen, but beyond the solid story with a few interesting accents that I'll spell out momentarily, I was genuinely impressed with the quality of how the film was shot, with some beautiful natural landscapes and very striking framing in numerous key scenes when characters were positioned for dramatic encounters and (of course) frenetic sword fights. Zatoichi's reveals at various moments throughout the story (aboard the ship in the opening sequence, when he's introduced as Okichi's guardian, to the dreadful surprise of Boss Tohachi and his henchmen, and when he stands alone in the center of the village crossroads, at once imposing and vulnerable, in anticipation of the movie's climactic showdown) are all splendid moments, demonstrative of an intuitive mastery of characterization by director Kazuo Ikehiro, who had previously directed Zatoichi and the Chest of Gold and Zatoichi's Flashing Sword, both released in 1964 and two of the better offerings in the series so far.
We also see small touches of creativity and experimentation - most notably, an odd little dream sequence featuring naked children splashing in the water, slightly trippy with multiple exposures and flashes of (dare I say?) psychedelia in the colorful overlays. The dialogue in the scene hints at a memory from Zatoichi's youth, but that tantalizing hint isn't explored at much length before we return to a more ordinary and predictable unfolding of the story at hand. Still, it's enough of a crack into Zatoichi's otherwise opaque personal history that I'll want to give it even closer attention whenever I get around to revisiting this movie again. (And I definitely plan to, someday, when I can dedicate a week or two to watching the whole series in rapid succession.)
Most significantly, it's one of those episodes where I got a sense of character growth occurring in the mind and soul of the blind swordsman, especially in the early scenes from which the film draws its title, as we see Zatoichi embarked upon what must be an arduous trek to visit 88 different temples and shrines spread across Japan in a search for serenity, or if not that, at least a brief respite from the grim patterns of assault and violent self-defense that relentlessly descend upon him. His quest for peace, and his earnest prayers of contrition for all the blood he'd reluctantly spilled throughout his wanderings, at one point in the script's development had the potential to take the saga into altogether new and unexplored territory before cautious studio heads intervened to keep the narrative safely within the tried and true formula that they banked on. As it turns out, Zatoichi's Pilgrimage is rather short lived, as he only makes it to one sacred site before he's once again attacked despite having committed no offense to his assailant. That rash, impulsive young man meets his doom in a quick but memorable underwater clash after the men plunge off a bridge. Now, with another senseless death attributed to his swordsmanship, Zatoichi's course is diverted from his penitent itinerary, and back to what seems to be his divinely appointed task of saving the village from yet another band of sweaty, smelly yakuza thugs. Upon meeting his would-be killer's sister, the weariness of his struggle and a momentary flirtation with the death wish causes him to drop his guard just long enough for a self-described "weakling" woman to slice his right shoulder rather severely. It's a truly shocking moment to see Zatoichi wounded by such a genteel hand.
In some ways, that conservative approach to the story's development is a disappointment because it would have been intriguing to see where they would have taken Zatoichi. But all in all, I can't regret the hesitancy to tamper with a good thing, since they could have easily mucked it all up too. I'm just pleased with the touch of moral and ethical ambivalence that our hero carries with him along the dusty roads he travels, even as he puts on full display, without resorting to ostentatious moralism, the venality and hypocrisy of not only the ruthless criminals but also the smug, self-satisfied farmers who fancy themselves hard-working decent folk. It keeps the swordplay and slaughter in perspective, even though just about everyone who perishes at the hands of Zatoichi clearly deserves what he gets, even if most of them are driven by shallow impulses of revenge or loyalty to an unworthy leader.
Next: The Battle of Algiers