47 Ronin review: Dying by the sword Trailer: 47 Ronin A band of samurai set out to avenge the death and dishonour of their master at the hands of a ruthless shogun. PT2M23S http://www.smh.com.au/action/externalEmbeddedPlayer?id=d-303se 620 349 December 31, 2013 Rating: 2 out of 5 stars Imagine there was a new version of Gallipoli made every year, as a film or TV series, and you get some idea of the importance in Japan of the story of the "loyal 47 Ronin." In the 1950s, the story was sometimes refilmed more than once a year. Imagine also how we would feel about an American or English version of Gallipoli in which the Turkish side was assisted by witches and demons, and Keanu Reeves played a heroic Aussie Digger with magic tricks of his own. The real 47 Ronin, buried in a cemetery at Sengaku-ji, must be spinning in their graves. Better that they would come out and take revenge on the makers of this preposterous, bloated and irredeemable exercise in stupidity. Ritual seppuku (disembowelling) is too good for 'em. The real story took place between 1701 and 1703. Two feudal lords, Asano and Kamei, got into a fight with the Shogun's corrupt chief chamberlain, Lord Kira. Asano drew his sword in the Edo Palace - a major transgression - so he had to commit suicide by the aforementioned method. Asano's now leaderless and unemployed samurai ("ronin") took more than a year to plan their revenge. Defying the Shogun, the loyal 47 Ronin (actually 46, as one of them went off as a messenger) attacked the house of Lord Kira, killed 16 of his men and cut off his head, which they placed as an offering on the tomb of their master. The Shogun had no choice but to condemn them, but he did allow them an honourable exit, the details of which I will not spoil for those who wish to torture themselves by seeing the film. The incident was a sensation in 1703. The first play hit the stage two weeks later and it has been wowing Japanese audiences, in every cultural form they possess, for the past 310 years. There are Kabuki plays, numerous sets of woodblock prints, a TV series that ran a whole year and at least 85 movies, some by highly esteemed directors. The meaning has shifted over time. It was celebrated initially as a supreme example of the Samurai code of Bushido, the warriors' rulebook, because of the heroism, loyalty and doggedness of the preparation. Later writers pointed out that a strict interpretation of Bushido would have required immediate revenge, rather than an elaborate plot designed for success. A samurai does not care whether his attack succeeds or fails; what is important is how he behaves in the moment. The story was then lauded as a supreme example of the Japanese spirit of loyalty, both to master and emperor. The critic Donald Richie has pointed out that it's as much a story of disobedience as loyalty. Like any great story, it has many interpretations. Explaining this movie is harder. Reeves is Kai, an orphan adopted by Lord Asano (Min Tanaka) 10 years earlier, when they find him almost dead on the edge of an enchanted wood. He grows up to become a disenchanted but powerful warrior, neither a samurai nor a serf. The other samurai taunt him as a half-breed but Asano's daughter, Mika (Ko Shibasaki), loves him. Lord Kira (Tadanobu Asano) is about to marry her by force, when Asano's chief retainer, Oishi (Hiroyuki Sanada), gets the samurai band back together. The gorgeous and otherwise talented Rinko Kikuchi plays a shape-shifting witch with different coloured eyes, handmaiden to Kira's ambitions - and every moment she is on screen feels like fingernails dragged across a blackboard. In a movie full of awfully bad acting, her performance is the biggest and the least. She doesn't just chew scenery, she sets it on fire as she flashes a leg and tongue at the virtuous Mika. What is a Japanese feudal adventure without a frisson of lesbian sexuality, after all? Among the film's many mysteries, who thought it was a good idea to entrust a major martial arts epic to a director with three shorts to his name, and to give him about $US170 million ($190 million). Carl Rinsch has no feel for performance and less for pace, although it may not be his movie. Production began in early 2011 and it is clear other hands have been trying to save it with reshoots and recuts, something that never works. Someone at some point did apply some skill: the night attack on Lord Kira's house is executed with pace and precision, but that's the only bright spot in an otherwise dull two hours. Adding CG monsters and Harry Potter magic does nothing for the nobility of the story; helicopter shots of knights on horseback against stunning scenery, copied from Peter Jackson, just reminded me of greater films in the samurai genre by Japanese directors. Kurosawa's Ran, for instance. Keanu Reeves has been scarce on our screens for the past four years, doing personal projects. He'll survive the debacle that is 47 Ronin, but a small punishment is warranted. Perhaps a finger, yakuza-style, for this boring and dishonourable travesty? Directed by Carl Rinsch Rated M, 119 minutes