One such man, Hanshiro, appears at the gates of the honorable Iyi Clan's castle, asking that they provide him with the facilities necessary to commit harakiri. Although suspicious at first, since many other ronin in a similar situation have tried to blackmail the clan for some money or a new job, Hanshiro manages to convince them that he really does wish to commit harakiri. While waiting for the arrangements to be made, the head of the Clan recounts a similar story that took place earlier that year.

Another ronin, Chijiiwa, appeared at their gates with a request similar to Hanshiro's. But unlike Hanshiro, he lacked the resolve to go through with it. What's more, Chijiiwa's status as a samurai was even doubtful to begin with; he carried bamboo swords, something no true samurai would do. Ultimately, Chijiiwa is forced to commit harakiri in order to prove his honor, and in the film's most shocking scene, disembowels himself with his bamboo blade.

After Chijiiwa's story is done, Hanshiro prepares to go through with his ceremony. But before he does, he tells his story, one that is inextricably linked with Chijiiwa's. At first, it's the tale of a poor, clan-less warrior trying to eke out a life for himself, his daughter, and the son of his best friend. But soon, it becomes a scathing indictment of the cruelty and harshness of bushido, the samurai code of honor.

Although the samurai strive to be paragons of honor and virtue, compassion and mercy are beneath them, and they have nothing but contempt for those who don't match their lofty standards. But that contempt masks hypocrisy - samurai are still human after all, with all of the normal failings and weaknesses - and as Hanshiro's story comes to an end, the truth about the "honorable" Iyi Clan is revealed.

While perhaps not as recognizable as Toshiro Mifune, Tatsuya Nakadai was one of Japan's greatest samurai actors, appearing films like "Sword Of Doom", "Sanjuro", and "Samurai Rebellion". Nakadai absolutely owns "Harakiri" from beginning to end, delivering a riveting and gripping performance as Hanshiro. At first, he seems to be a common warrior looking to save face, but as the movie goes on, his aura grows deadlier and more menacing as he exposes the Iyi Clan for what it truly is.

Those expecting some crazy hack n' slash adventure like "Shogun Assassin" might be disappointed with "Harakiri". The film moves pretty fairly slowly at times, especially with the constant flashbacks, but it's not long before you find yourself totally drawn in. The dialog might seem too melodramatic at times, even silly, especially when characters praise the virtues of a proper disembowelment and debate the meaning of honor with flowery dialog and grim expressions. But that's the point. By comparing such scenes with the samurais' cold and callous actions, it exposes their hypocrisy. It's hard to call someone honorable when they compliment a man for using the proper disembowelment technique while, in the next room, his sickly child lay dying.

The film inevitably marches towards a final showdown, and all of the tension and bitterness just explodes in the movie's final 15 minutes or so. Again, Nakadai is just amazing to watch. There's a steely glint in his eyes that's riveting, and when he marches towards his opponents, with his arms crossed across his chest and katana ready to strike... well, let's just say his foe(s) are going to need some clean drawers... if their heads are still attached to their bodies, that is.

"Harakiri" may not be as famous as Kurosawa and Mifune's samurai pictures, but it's a great one nonetheless, well worth the time spent seeking it out (I'd love to see this reissued on DVD). While films like Mifune's "Samurai" trilogy espouse the glories of bushido and how it can help a cruel, base man find honor and decency, "Harakiri" exposes bushido's dark side. "Harakiri"'s samurai are not noble men. Rather, they are men who follow bushido instead of their conscience, instead of their heart. Their sense of honor is nothing more than a veneer, a way to justify dishonorable, and even evil actions. The film's final scene chillingly drives home that idea. There is no happy ending, but simply a warning against the evil that can be done, all in the name of honor and righteousness.

Based on a novel by Yasuhiko Takiguchi, Harakiri is a scathing indictment on the hypocrisy, repression, and barbarism of codified behavior. Using rigid rectangular framing against fluid tracking shots and exquisitely composed long shots that delineate class station and social disparity, Masaki Kobayashi visually reflects the oppressive confinement and regimentation of the samurai bushido (code of conduct): the title sequence presented against shots of the empty passageways that lead to the sacred chamber of the Iyi clan's ancestral armor; the isolating, diagonal shots of Saito's interviews with Tsugumo and Chijiwa; the repeated image of Tsugumo on a ceremonial mat encircled by retainers. By illustrating the class stratification and imposed social conformity fostered by the Tokugawa shogunate (1600-1867) as a means of retaining and centralizing authority, Kobayashi presents a harrowing indictment of the ingrained cultural legacy of coercive, outmoded rituals, chauvinism, and blind obedience that resulted in the inhumanity and senseless tragedy of the Pacific War.