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Synopsis
Who can fathom the depths of another man's heart?
Down-on-his-luck veteran Tsugumo Hanshirō enters the courtyard of the prosperous House of Iyi. Unemployed, and with no family, he hopes to find a place to commit seppuku—and a worthy second to deliver the coup de grâce in his suicide ritual. The senior counselor for the Iyi clan questions the ronin’s resolve and integrity, suspecting Hanshirō of seeking charity rather than an honorable end. What follows is a pair of interlocking stories which lay bare the difference between honor and respect, and promises to examine the legendary foundations of the Samurai code.
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Director
Director
Producers
Producers
Writer
Writer
Original Writer
Original Writer
Editor
Editor
Cinematography
Cinematography
Assistant Director
Asst. Director
Art Direction
Art Direction
Set Decoration
Set Decoration
Composer
Composer
Sound
Sound
Costume Design
Costume Design
Hairstyling
Hairstyling
Studio
Country
Language
Alternative Titles
Hara-kiri, Харакири, Seppuku, Harakiri (Seppuku), Сеппуку, 할복, 하라키리, هاراکیری, Χαρακίρι, חרקירי, Харакірі, هاراگیری, Haraquiri, Charakiris, Nghi Lễ Mổ Bụng
Theatrical
15 Sep 1962
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JapanNR
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Sweden15
01 Jan 1963
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Canada
30 Apr 1963
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FranceU
11 Sep 1963
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USANR
20 Sep 1963
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Italy
27 Jan 1964
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Denmark
30 Jan 1964
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Mexico
05 Jun 1964
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Germany18
09 Nov 1965
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Spain12
17 Jul 1980
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Netherlands16
Physical
15 Sep 2008
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Netherlands16
Canada
Denmark
France
Germany
Italy
Japan
Mexico
Netherlands
Spain
Sweden
USA
More
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I am an idiot.
Why is it that I still dread watching "classics"? I'm talking about those foreign, black and white movies that are whispered about only in the halls of letterboxd. Why do I put off watching them for months, and finally force myself to watch them only through the guise of a challenge? Was Rashomon not enough? Did the magnificence of Citizen Kane not convince me that hyperbole has no sway when a masterpiece is on screen? Did I not finally sit down, ready to "endure" Tokyo Story, only to slap my forehead and groan, "Never again, you idiot."
Well, here I was, yet again. Me, the fucking idiot. Kobayashi, about to blow my socks off.
Harakiri may…
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honor in the individual is virtue
honor in a society is madness
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Brilliant. Riveting exploration of mortality and honor. Timeless, impeccable, and hypnotic. I find myself looking forward to future viewings, and I'm sure there will be many.
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God damn what an impeccable film. Not dated in the least, if you tried to tell this same story now, 60 years later, this would still be the best way to tell it, shot for shot, line for line.
I sometimes get intimidated by the fact that there is so much great film, both past and present, that I could never find time to see it all. Japan alone has way too many incredible filmmakers with extensive filmographies I’ve barely scraped the surface of. I don’t know what was in the water over there throughout the 20th century, but it must’ve been good.
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95
First thing's first: giving a big thanks to Mitchell, one of my awesome Patrons, for finally forcing me to watch this fucking movie. Every so often, I'd browse through my ridiculous LB watch-list and scroll and scroll past movies that I might never get to, and then I would see the poster for Harakiri and sigh. Because it was a major blind-spot for me, and I'm happy to say that it lived up to its expectations, and of course, so much more. Director Masaki Kobayashi, who about scarred me for life with the sinister Kwaidan, finds a elegant stasis between honor and illusion, and the atmosphere floats in the air - existing in a void of space. Just on…
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Probably the greatest film ever.. a film about honour, valour, poverty, hunger , justice and the politics.. a fable that is as relevant today as when it was made.. totally blown
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This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
I have, for personal reasons, avoided this film for a long time. Part of my avoidance strategy has been to leave it in my queue, half-buried, but relying in part on the fact that it was marked "very long wait." It would come when it came, and so it did. So tonight, I took a deep breath and plunged in to a film named for ritual suicide, expecting the very worst. In the first, I dunno, ten, twenty minutes, there is a scene of such brutality that I felt physically ill, a transgression of violence depicted without excessive gore, without the sadistic glee of the worst transgressive films, but still among the most uncomfortable scenes I could name. But in…
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Firstly, I must apologise for holding off on this for so long. This is remarkable. It’s a film that raises a lot of issues about whether fervent loyalty to the code of honour is more valuable than humanity. And how that is unjustifiable. The execution is masterful, and the pay-off is even better. The resolution is entirely cathartic. It’s also incredibly well-choreographed, touching, and surprisingly exciting. I do think that I will need another watch in order to fully digest everything, though.
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Absolutely riveting. I didn’t look away for a single gorgeous frame. Bless Letterboxd for making me aware of this glaring omission in my film-watching life. Without a doubt one of the best films I’ve ever had the pleasure of viewing.
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wait can we normalize calling something you’ve only seen once, your favorite movie of all time?
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Upon first viewing, this classic B&W film directed by Masaki Kobayashi has instantly leapt onto my "50 Favorites" list. Many thanks to Letterboxd member Sam Redfern for providing the YouTube link. I don't know how long it might have taken me to get around to seeing this masterpiece otherwise.
The title, of course, refers to the Japanese practice of "ritual suicide by disembowelment." It came about as part of bushido, the honor code of the samurai warrior class. By the 17th century, peace had come to Japan and warriors were no longer needed. Thousands of them became masterless ronin as the samurai system collapsed. This story describes the tale of one such ronin, who comes to the residence of a…
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'When all is said and done, our lives are like houses built on foundations of sand. One strong wind and all is gone.'
Holy shit. I was already gawking by the time Harakiri unequivocally set the human aspect against the seemingly unshakable Japanese traditions & glory and sang its eternal tale of love for family and to what lengths people go to save their loved ones, but I still wasn't prepared for the hard-hitting ending. Japanese honor just got trampled beneath the crippling power of universal love that cannot be associated with just one nation but which rules over all country-specific customs and, yes, even over the apparently stainless Japanese renown that got obliterated in the most human & most fitting way by none other than a Japanese film (made in 1962!). Because 'after all, this thing we call samurai honor is ultimately nothing but a facade.' God, I'm speechless.