There are two kinds of people in the world: those who can
get behind a movie like 47 Ronin, and
those who make me sad.
47 Ronin is set in
a mythic, legendary Japan. It tells the
story of 47 samurai who, though outcasts following the dishonor of their
master, hatch a plan to redeem his honor and set the world to right. It’s steeped in a heightened, storybook
version of Japanese bushido culture,
and it’s wonderful entertainment.
Keanu Reeves plays the financing necessity – no, wait. That’s unfair. While Reeves was, most likely, the key to a
financing and distribution deal, he’s perfectly fine here as the half-European,
semi-mystical outcast and audience identification character. Yes, he’s a bit wooden, but that plays well
in a story set in a rigidly controlled, hierarchical society. Beyond that, he’s game for whatever the movie
throws at him, and he doesn’t embarrass himself or the production.
I could name check a couple of Japanese actors whose names
would be familiar to movie buffs, but all you really need to know is that this
is a beautiful production, professionally acted and directed. Yes, much of the monster-related CGI is
dodgy, but so what. This is legend. Roll with it.
More importantly, the story makes sense, the action sequences are a
delight, and my 14 year old and I rocked along with smiles on our faces
throughout its running time.
