Vague Visages’ The Samurai and the Prisoner review contains minor spoilers. Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s 2025 movie features Masahiro Motoki, Masaki Suda and Yuriko Yoshitaka. Check out the VV home page for more film criticism, movie reviews and film essays.

When introducing a screening of his 2024 late capitalism parable Cloud, director Kiyoshi Kurosawa joked that his film was a “failed thriller.” Instead of a conventional revenge narrative, it’s a darkly comic tale of an internet reseller who doesn’t realize there is an online community dedicated to killing him until the narrative transforms into a ludicrous cat-and-mouse chase. In a similar way, Kurosawa’s latest effort, The Samurai and the Prisoner, could be described as a “failed samurai epic,” taking place almost entirely behind closed castle doors, with a lead character so reluctant to use his sword against those who’ve wronged him that it becomes something of a running joke.

Adapted from Honobu Yonezawa’s eponymous novel, The Samurai and the Prisoner is a work of historical fiction which never leaves history’s margins; a year-in-the-life tale of a man who wound up writing his own destiny as a footnote in another man’s story. The film stars Masahiro Motoki (best known to western audiences for leading the Oscar-winning 2008 drama Departures) as samurai Araki Murashige, who rebelled against his lord Oda Nobunaga in the mid 16^th century, and braced himself for an attack behind castle walls. Nobunaga is kept offscreen and spoken of only as a tyrant. As a major historical figure in Japan, the last of the country’s three “uniters” during this period, there is undoubtedly significant context lost in translation, but Murashige is given a chance to resolve the conflict and return to his inner circle, despite openly criticizing the lord for being a warmonger.

The Samurai and the Prisoner Review: Related — Review: Gregg Araki’s ‘I Want Your Sex’

Murashige’s plan is almost immediately written off when samurai and savvy political tactician Kuroda Kanbei (played by Cloud star Masaki Suda) arrives at the castle to smooth tensions over. Motoki’s protagonist aims to get one over on Nobunaga by kidnapping his envoy, throwing him in a dungeon as part of a ploy that goes against samurai code — he’s seen enough death, and now wants to avoid killing wherever possible. However, death has already began to permeate the castle’s walls, and after sparing the life of the eight-year-old son of a lord who defected to his rival (another tenet of the samurai code he bristles at enacting), he grows paranoid when the child is killed in a seemingly impossible bow and arrow attack. Murashige believes that there’s at least one traitor in his ranks, and supernatural attacks only multiply as he desperately tries to refine a military strategy as rival clans edge closer to the castle walls.

The Samurai and the Prisoner Review: Related — Review: Daniel Roher’s ‘Tuner’

For those like myself who lack any specialist knowledge of the Sengoku period, there are critical historical details that are hard to keep track of amidst a dense, year-spanning narrative. And if there’s a feeling of being two steps behind when it comes to determining specific allegiances, even as the cast very notably dwindles as the seasons pass and more battles are lost, the audience is always primed to be three steps ahead when it comes to the core relationship. The non-superstitious Murashige increasingly leans on the imprisoned Kanbei to help find a rational answer for these mysteries, refusing to be talked into the idea that he faces divine punishment for his betrayal of a lord and the code he was obliged to follow.

The Samurai and the Prisoner Review: Related — Review: John Early’s ‘Maddie’s Secret’

Even if audiences struggle to keep track of who seems to be double crossing who outside of dungeon walls in The Samurai and the Prisoner, the most basic knowledge of genre tropes will be helpful when it comes to understanding the engine behind the central and unlikely friendship, as Kurosawa contextualizes Murashige’s growing number of bad tactical decisions as that of a puppet who takes too long to grasp that he’s being played. Motoki excellently portrays the most pathetic figure William Shakespeare never wrote, and it’s a tragic performance precisely because there’s nobility in the character’s refusal to enact more pain and suffering. He’s just undone by leaning too much on the various unreliable narrators in his orbit rather than getting off the fence and piecing things together himself.

The Samurai and the Prisoner Review: Related — Review: Curry Barker’s ‘Obsession’

The paranoia which drives many of Kurosawa’s best and most nihilistic films translates far better than expected to the world of a prestige costume drama, all but inviting comparisons to that other great Kurosawa — Akira — and his shogun Shakespeare adaptations. It’s particularly easy to see parallels to Throne of Blood (1957) as a reluctant leader in the Macbeth mold has his destiny upturned by the supernatural, and there’s even a not-too-subtle homage to Lady Macbeth struggling to wash her hands of blood. However, the younger Kurosawa would probably bristle at the idea of Murashige being a tragic hero in a similar vein, as this is a man whose downfall wasn’t linked to his quest of power but of making himself irrelevant, despite his dreams of being in history books.

The Samurai and the Prisoner Review: Related — Review: John Carney’s ‘Power Ballad’

Beneath The Samurai and the Prisoner’s mysticism, there is a true story at the core about a long march towards an unspectacular defeat, with a hero deprived of any redemption on the battlefield. Unfortunately, the film builds to a dissatisfying finale. The Samurai and the Prisoner never subverts expectations, which is further proof that Kurosawa’s skill as a genre craftsman extends far beyond his horror comfort zone.

Alistair Ryder (@YesitsAlistair) is a film and TV critic based in Manchester, England. By day, he interviews the great and the good of the film world for Zavvi, and by night, he criticizes their work as a regular reviewer at outlets including The Film Stage and Looper. Thank you for reading film criticism, movie reviews and film reviews at Vague Visages.

The Samurai and the Prisoner Review: Related — Building the New Queer Canon #10: Elliot Tuttle’s ‘Blue Film’ and Tackling Society’s Ultimate Taboo