...but we can't let Godzilla '54 have ALL the fun.
This year, Inagaki's Samurai trilogy also turned 70. The first film, Samurai I: Musashi Miyamoto, is the only film Hirata was in that won an (American) Academy Award1. Let's talk a little bit about the reception of these films in the United States.
In the early-to-mid-1950s, cinema from Japan was slowly starting to seep into Western theaters, and with the increased visibility came increased recognition - Gate of Hell won the grand prize at Cannes in 1954, as well as an Academy Honorary Award and the Golden Leopard at Locarno. Three years prior, in 1951, Rashōmon also won an AHA; as per Wikipedia it was "voted by the Board of Governors as the most outstanding foreign language film released in the United States during 1951." This was the first time a Japanese film had been recognized by the Academy Awards.
Samurai I was released theatrically in the United States as Samurai: The Legend of Musashi on November 19th, 1955. It was only the fourth Japanese film to have a theatrical release in the United States. American actor William Holden had a lot to do with propelling the Samurai trilogy towards its stateside release and eventual Academy win - he even contributed VA work when it was finally shown in American theaters.
On March 21st, 1956, Samurai I received an Academy Honorary Award for Best Foreign Language Film. Incredibly, footage exists of this.
Despite its recognition by the Academy, in the eyes of critics, Japanese film was - and would remain - something of a novelty. This is a New York Times article2 about Samurai II from October of 1967 that I feel encapsulates the way Japanese film - particularly jidaigeki - was still "other" in the eyes of U.S. critics. I've chopped down some highlights that show the flippant tone that was pretty standard for American film critics confronting Japanese cinema:
"IF you like grunting and slashing sword-fighting by a heavily costumed Japanese, determined to demonstrate his chivalry to his ponderous rivals in a feudalistic and ritualistic society, then you might want to see what is billed as Part II of Hiroshi Inagaki's "Samurai," which is actually the second part of a trilogy called "Musashi Miyamoto." [...] For this and a lot more of the same sort of elaborately attitudinized pining and swooning by pretty females over the glowering hero that goes on in Part I is all you will see in this segment. It simply carries on for another couple of hours the series of bristling confrontations of the heroic title character of "Samurai," which was first shown here in 1956 and has been offered in a revival at the 55th Street for the last three weeks. I suppose it is as a favor to the Japanese audience in New York and to aficionados of Nippon and students of Japanese films that Toho International is now presenting in sequential engagements the three sections of Mr. Inagaki's trilogy, which was made in 1956 with the then magnificently vital and immensely popular Toshiro Mifune as its star.
Films about samurai are now old hat—as commonplace as old Hollywood Westerns. And, anyhow, there have been several better than this—Akira Kurosawa's "The Magnificent Seven," for instance, and Mr. Inagaki's own "Chushingura," which we saw here in 1963 and which had qualities of decor and color much superior to those in "Samurai." This is not said with any critical prejudice against this old favorite of the Japanese, but simply to advise the general public that it is a conspicuously fustian and monotonous period piece."
Let's go a little further back in time, though; to a NYT article from when Samurai I first opened in 1956. It is similarly unkind.
"THE clearest description we can give you of the new Japanese film, "Samurai," which came yesterday to the Little Carnegie, is that it is an Oriental western, dressed in sixteenth-century get-ups and costumes, but as violently melodramatic as any horse opera out of Hollywood. The hero of this elaborate pastiche is a village gent who wants to be a samurai, a first-class warrior in the Japanese feudal system—or a big shot in a glorified bandit gang. And, in the pursuit of his ambition, he goes off with a somewhat reluctant friend to join the army of a local war lord and win everlasting fame. But the war is lost and our snorting sword-swinger, put to rout with the rest of the army and forced to flee, goes wandering about the country, making muscles and generally shunning amorous dames—all of which is entirely consistent with the behavior of heroes in western films.[...]
It is futile to try to compare this lurid picture with such previous, exciting Japanese films as the intellectually absorbing "Rashomon" or the sensitive and esthetic "Gate of Hell." This one has no dramatic cohesion, no refinement of taste, no point of view. The most it says, in the way of social comment, is that martial ambition is the bunk. It is best to marry a loving woman and be peaceful, wise and virtuous. The only area of comparison is in performance and in the quality of color and camera-work. Toshiro Mifune is striking as the hero (He was the bandit in "Rashomon.") In the standard style of Japanese acting, he leans to the exaggerated gesture and flamboyant air.
People were not taking this stuff seriously. Inagaki was quoted as saying "It was completely unexpected that Samurai won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film, which filmmakers all over the world have dreamed of. I never expected that my work, which has never won a Japanese film award, would win an American award." Given the harsh critical reception seen above, its win does feel pretty surprising.
"Foreigners who were puzzled at Hiroshi Inagaki's intercutting his love scenes with shots of running water in Musashi Miyamoto (better known abroad as Samurai) failed to make the connection which Inagaki expected of his audience: earthly passion was being contrasted with the standard poetic image for the impermanence of life on this earth."
To be fair, the version that American audiences were seeing was heavily edited, so critics of the film were not being given it in its entirety. But, knowing them, if they had been, they'd probably just gripe about the runtime and excess of swordfighting.
Godzilla, King of the Monsters! was released in March of 1956. I have mentioned this on here before, but aside from Takashi Shimura, the only Japanese cast member who American audiences might have recognized when watching the Americanized Godzilla for the first time would have been Akihiko Hirata. And it's possible that they'd seen him in something even before Samurai I, since Itsuko and Her Mother received a small theatrical run a few months beforehand. This is, of course, all theoretical; I highly doubt American audiences cared much, if at all, about Japanese bit-part actors at this point.
The Criterion Collection has included the Samurai trilogy since the early 1990s when it was still releasing films on laserdisc. In 2012 the Criterion Collection re-released Inagaki's entire trilogy on DVD, updating the picture quality and sound and including interviews that supplied some historical background on the events of the film. Your local library may have a copy of one or all of these. As for (legal) streaming, all three films are on the Criterion Channel, and you can sign up for a free trial to watch them if you aren't already subscribed. These films are well worth watching if you have a passing interest in Japanese film, and they are important to its wider history, as well as its place in the international eye.
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1 The Academy Honorary Award was established in 1950 to cover films that were not included in pre-existing Academy Award categories.
2 I have also found an NYT article referring to Story of Osaka Castle as an "inscrutable horse opera".