The Last Samurai

Haunted by memories of sins on the battlefield, a renegade officer from the American Civil War unexpectedly finds himself enmeshed in a foreign culture. Despite initial skepticism on both parts, the man cultivates a deep respect for the people that surround him and begins to assimilate himself into their society and to master their traditions. In the end, he winds up taking a stand against his own people in order to remain true to his newfound values, thus achieving inner peace and redemption.

If the above sounds familiar, it's because it not only describes the new movie that Tom Cruise has been exhaustively promoting, but also Dances with Wolves, and, thrown in for good measure, a few elements of Braveheart, the TV miniseries Shogun, and Ben Hur. The formula is the journey of the hero, and it has even been nicely encapsulated in a book for budding screenwriters entitled The Writer's Journey by Christopher Vogler. In short, it's nothing we haven't seen before and Cruise's performance, unlike his brave, exciting turns in Magnolia and Jerry Maguire[note], seems garden-variety in the larger context of the work he has done. Yet Cruise and director Edward Zwick are far too savvy not to make the film work, and, once one gets past its initial ridiculousness, the story isn't entirely unabsorbing. The Last Samurai was undoubtedly tailored to court Oscar, and as such it contains not only the obligatory self-importance and earmarks of "quality" that mar so many films geared toward that big night, but also an engaging storyline and some fairly impressive battle sequences.

Cruise plays Nathan Algren, a washed-up Civil War captain with the whitest teeth this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Gleaming like beacons throughout the entirety of the film, Algren's pearly whites betray none of the damage that one would expect his whisky-soaked lifestyle to have wrought, though, as the film makes clear, his soul is in decidedly worse condition. Despite being celebrated as a hero, Nathan cannot erase the memories of the senseless slaughter of Native Americans that he and another officer spearheaded during the war. Although he is loath to return to battle, the large sum of money offered to him to help train the emperor's army to fight against a group of samurai warriors proves difficult to resist.

Upon arriving in Japan, Algren is shocked to discover an untrained army of peasants, many of whom have never seen a gun before. Nevertheless, Omura (Masato Harada), the greedy Japanese industrialist who hired him, insists that these men be brought into battle almost immediately, reasoning that the samurai they face use no guns or cannons. However, as Algren swiftly discovers, they prove shrewd and ferocious warriors and easily slaughter most of the emperor's troops. Algren himself is nearly killed, but the leader of the samurai, a man named Katsumoto (Ken Watanabe), is impressed by tenacity, and orders that he be taken captive instead.

Stranded in a village high in the mountains with the samurai and their families, the transformation begins. Not only does Algren give up drinking, but he also becomes a surrogate father to the sons of one of the men he killed and even learns Japanese (though I kept holding my breath for him to say "tatonka"). More importantly, he begins to master the tradition of samurai warfare, developing a deep respect for their discipline and strength. During these sequences we're even given a neat silhouetted shot of Algren practicing his swordplay moves with the backdrop a beautiful sunset, which is highly reminiscent of Scarlett's fist-pumping "as God is my witness, I'll never go hungry again" shot in Gone With the Wind.

All this hard work finally pays off in the end, as Algren decides to join forces with Katsumoto in a battle to force the emperor to recognize both the old and new traditions within Japanese culture. Those who enjoyed the violent battle sequences in Braveheart and Gladiator will find gratification in these extended scenes, which find Algren pitted against the Civil War rival (Tony Goldwyn) who dragged him into the Native American slaughter. The film's epic aspirations almost catch fire in these scenes, though the rest of the movie unfortunately fails to live up to them.

Note: I realize that the frequent parodies of this film and its overplayed theme song ("Secret Garden") may lead detractors to balk at my description of Cruise's performance as 'brave' or 'exciting,' but I stand by my opinion. For proof, re-watch his scenes with Jonathan Lipnicki and Cuba Gooding, Jr., and also note how ably he demonstrates the undercurrent of fear that haunts Jerry even while he is at the top of his game.