The Invisible Swordsman

Going into The Invisible Swordsman  I knew nothing, it was a total blank slate. Blanker, more transparent than an invisible, um, swordsman. Directed in 1970 by Yoshiyuki Kuroda who had helmed one of the Lone Wolf and Cub films, a series I enjoy and imagine many of you do as well.  

The son of a samurai, Sanshiro (Osamu Sakai) is incompetent and cowardly – generally a failure at everything, even the cooking of rice; there is nothing about him to make his father proud. When his father is killed by the villainous Phantom Thieves, Sanshiro is powerless and, in his distress, invokes the spirits and is told of a brew he can make that will grant him the power of invisibility. Using this newfound ability, he starts to take revenge on the Phantom Thieves that murdered his father.  

It’s an odd film to pick up, I have to say. As the film opens, with the jaunty soundtrack sung by children, with an image of Sanshiro, a grown man, being trounced by your average child in the dojo, it left me thinking this was not going to be an insightful, incisive perspective on how expectation can weigh heavily on those unsuited for a position. 

No, comedy - and often broad comedy - is very much in the offing here. Most of the performances are of the farcical, exaggerated, knees-knocking-in-terror, eyes-bulging type. Depending on the viewer this is either fun or tediously superfluous. This kind acting is not my thing for a moment and I find wearisome at best. I just don’t understand it at all. It's the kind of style that extends to our protagonist, Sanshiro, who is crawling, willing to supplicate in front of a bully samurai; he’s really starting from a low position as a character right off the bat. He’s a sort of non-character that you know is going to learn but there’s not much about him to be interested in; even when he tries to do things to be helpful like cooking he’s inept. He’s just a bit crap at life. To the point where you really can't understand why the love interest in the film has any desire for him at all. Sanshiro is too pure a pantomime concoction to be real, there’s just nothing to ground him as a person.

He does at least appear to have actual feelings for his father, and his calling out to him sees Sanshiro dragged into the underworld to follow his dead parent. This leads to the discovery of invisibility which enables the investigation into the killers. It also leads to what is arguably the best element of the film; the effects. The practical creation of the underworld scenes with the boat and his father are highlights; the dual exposures as the spirit world overlaps with the real are where the film shines. These are often beautifully created and despite the age of the film don’t look or feel in the last bit shoddy, if anything quite the opposite – the technical skill going on is easily missed for the seamlessness of it all; the use of floating props by our invisible protagonist, which let’s face it can look awful, is really nicely handled (if a bit jerky at times) but mainly fluid and there are no telltale strings appearing. It's all very well done and the film’s saving grace. Which is a shame because it is also generally well shot, often surprisingly darkly so. Maybe this is in part to aid with those moments of transformation of Sanshiro from visible to invisible person.  

To me the film seemed to be screaming for it to have the guts to take itself that little bit more seriously instead of taking the easy way out and going straight for comedy. This is my prejudice however so those who enjoy this form of comedy will find much to love and cheer for, especially as you know where the story is going. There are no surprises and Sanshiro does get to be a bit more of a person as the film progresses, ironic perhaps considering how he becomes more relatable the less we see of him. 

Still, The Invisible Swordsman is definitely worth your time to appreciate the effects work; there’s a nice playfulness in the story at times when the real and spirit worlds intersect and these are the parts of the film that really make you smile, even if other aspects niggle. It’s no hindrance to enjoyment too that the film is a brisk 78-minutes, so even if you are like me and might find the humour and performances hard to take, the film never obnoxiously outstays its welcome.

And, let’s be honest, the film’s heart is in the right place.