Shogun (2024) Episode VI
Sorry for the lateness of this one. The weekend being a holiday could be to blame but it has far more to do with a family matter that’s taking up most of my time and mental energy. I suppose I should explain some of the changes that must happen here because of that, but expect that later.
Catch up on Shogun:
We may as well call this Mariko’s episode. I’m going to try to avoid spoilers but will include them in the footnotes, so if you don’t want to know how this story went in the 1980 version…don’t look at the footnotes.
What we see if a young Mariko becoming friends with the child who will one day be Lady Ochiba, the heir’s mother. We also see the execution of Mariko’s father’s allies. Later, her father would kill Nobuhisa, the previous unifier of Japan before the Taiko.
Back in the present of 1600, Blackthorne is honored and promoted by Toranaga, putting him in command of the recently promoted Omi and Yabushige. We also get a survey of the earthquakes devastation and what this must mean for Toranaga’s plans.
But let’s cut to it, yeah? You watched the episode.
Your eyes were open.
You can understand moving pictures in front of your face.
Why does Toranaga insist on making Mariko remain with Blackthorne during his visit to the courtesan?
Initially, I thought it was to split Mariko from Blackthorne. By forcing her to translate, even while he pillows with the courtesan, he would force a break in any potential attraction between the two1. But as the scene unfolds, I wondered if Toranaga meant for them to come together.
The shattering of inhibitions. Creating a private world where there are only those two.
Mariko and Blackthorne.
The whole episode seems to lead to their romance blossoming. From the prayer in Blackthorne’s home on either side of the screen to their constant companionship to all the things said and unsaid.
The filming of this scene at the brothel was just spectacular.
The courtesan, so utterly perceptive, understands the desires of those before her. She knows Blackthorne doesn’t want her, isn’t there to have sex with a beautiful courtesan.
As the kids say, she understands the assignment.
Her role as courtesan is to give her client a fantasy. To fulfill their desires.
And so while Mariko translates for her, she moves behind Mariko, forcing Blackthorne to look at Mariko while she speaks. Turning a translated conversation into one between potential lovers, between broken hearts yearning for wholeness.
And when she instead turns away and leaves Blackthorne to the courtesan, Blackthorne touches her.
It is, I think, the first time he’s touched her.
Just fingertips. A grazing touch on her hand. Her skin.
Mountains of desire in so brief a space.
He wants her. He believes she wants him too.
And when he goes to the courtesan to do what one does with a courtesan, he will still be enraptured by Mariko, still hearing her voice, still seeing her face.
It’s a beautiful moment.
A devastating one.
All these walls. These barriers.
Society, culture. War. Honor. Obligation. Duty.
Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera
One of the key pieces of information given to Mariko is that her father wanted her to marry Buntaro and survive what he did to continue his war. Mariko buckles at this news, discovering that her seeking death has flown in the face of her father’s wishes.
Wishes never uttered.
Such is the society of Japan at this time. The many faces and hearts. The eightfold fence. The versions of ourselves, public and private and most private, that we hope will be understood or concealed.
Toranaga, instead of admonishing Mariko, gives her a purpose.
To keep fighting.
What does this mean, exactly? And who is she meant to fight against, in particular?
Well, perhaps I missed it, but this remains unclear to me. Presumably this will line up with Toranaga’s military goals so the narrative congeals as one large conflict, where the personal and the national come together.
Back in Osaka, Lady Ochiba is taking control and has imprisoned all the regents and their families with Lord Ishido’s help. They claim this is necessary because of a plot against the heir’s life.
We know it’s not real. Everyone in Osaka knows it’s not real.
Yet honor demands. Culture weighs.
The regents grow more and more mistrustful of Ishido and they abandon the regency meetings one by one. When Sugiyama attempts to flee Osaka castle, Ishido and his men annihilate them.
Most importantly, we learn of Ochiba.
The Taiko could not conceive an heir, even after hundreds of consorts. The problem is likely obvious to modern viewers: he was infertile.
But Ochiba produced an heir!
We must ask ourselves: whose child is he?
We also learn that she hold Toranaga responsible for her father’s death. I wonder, too, if Toranaga may be the heir’s father. I have no real reason to believe this except that it would be narratively convenient. And since all the Japanese political aspects were absent or un-understandable in the 1980 adaptation, I really don’t have any insight into what’s happening here.
Back in Anjiro with Toranaga and his war council, we learn of the Crimson Sky plan, which is to take Osaka castle by force.
It seems, honestly, insane. But such is life.
He knows a new regency council will be formed and they will demand Toranaga’s death, so he must act while he is still able to act.
If he succeeds, he will become Shogun, a title and role he is adamant in not wanting. Further, he is adamant that the heir must be protected and does not trust Ishido to protect him.
And so when he learns of Sugiyama’s death, he prepares for war, for the Crimson Sky plan.
Of course, with these cannons, his plan to assault a castle becomes much more feasible. He’s no longer sending men at walls, but attempting to knock those walls down in order to get his men through. His army is small, devastated by the earthquake and facing the might of the rest of Japan, but he believes his army will grow as he goes.
And so now, six hours into this ten hour show, we prepare for war.
And we wonder about love. About duty. About what it means to be trapped in a foreign place in a war you don’t understand. About what it means to be bound to a man you believe will lose this war.
And no one reveals what’s in their heart to anyone.
Instead, we all must carry the weight of ourselves.
My novels:
Glossolalia - A Le Guinian fantasy novel about an anarchic community dealing with a disaster
Sing, Behemoth, Sing - Deadwood meets Neon Genesis Evangelion
Howl - Vampire Hunter D meets The Book of the New Sun in this lofi cyberpunk/solarpunk monster hunting adventure
Colony Collapse - Star Trek meets Firefly in the opening episode of this space opera
The Blood Dancers - The standalone sequel to Colony Collapse.
Iron Wolf - Sequel to Howl.
Sleeping Giants - Standalone sequel to Colony Collapse and The Blood Dancers
Broken Katana - Sequel to Iron Wolf.
Libertatia; or, The Onion King - Standalone sequel to Colony Collapse, The Blood Dancers, and Sleeping Giants
Noir: A Love Story - An oral history of a doomed romance.
House of Ghosts - Standalone sequel to Libertatia; or, the Onion King
At this point in the 1980 version, Mariko and Blackthorne have already begun a romantic relationship. I’m somewhat curious why this hasn’t happened yet but I assume it’s actually for a dumb reason. I’ll hold off on my judgment until we see where this goes and how the relationship is handled, but I do think it’s the most curious absence from this version of the story, and potentially a disastrous one.
Wait until you read the book.
Good to have the 1980 comparison, can't remember, been too long but somehow I find the new version, how to say this... more "theatric?" Still, I like it. Maybe it's best not to compare.