Considering
that I am about to discuss a mini-series
that gives great detail to history, we
must begin this review with a history of the mini-series.
In the
1970s when television was the sole property of the three major networks, the
networks would sometimes be willing to interrupt their schedules for days,
extending into weeks with adaptations of novels that were considered unfilmable
because of their sheer size but that television might be able to handle. They
called in the mini-series.
During
this period bestseller would be adapted into eight and nine-part series that
featured actors and actress who often did not appear on TV but were willing to
make an exception for these projects. Some of the most glorious work of the era
came from these daring adaptations from the groundbreaking Roots to the
masterful The Thorn Birds to Rich Man, Poor Man and North
& South, these programs had the kind of budgets that some of the
filmmakers of that era were not able to get. And the audiences they could attract,
even by the standards of only three networks, were similarly huge. Roots averaged
70 million viewers an episode, all the more impressive for ABC who had no faith
in the property at first. Other series were able to embrace the works of the
biggest writers from Larry McMurtry Lonesome Dove and James Michener’s Centennial.
PBS also
contributed massively to the trend with British imports from Elizabeth R. to
I, Claudius, Brideshead Revisited and their greatest success The
Jewel in the Crown. The BBC could often be ambitious on its own,
particularly with the brilliant Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and Smiley’s
People.
Eventually the
mini-series got literally too big for TV to handle. The thirty hours that ABC
spent on War & Remembrance cost so much and took too much time that
it started to hasten the decline of the long-form network series. By the
mid-1990s, mini-series were being reduced to four two hours blocs at most, such
as with ABC’s adaptation of The Stand.
Pay and
basic cable would take up the gauntlet to an extent, particularly HBO. Steven
Spielberg and Tom Hanks would collaborate on several ambitious projects
starting with From the Earth to the Moon and ending with The Pacific.
But these series were not only spread over a weekly basis but were never as
long as the blockbusters of the past: at most an episode would be an hour plus
ten minutes. The last miniseries of that kind by HBO was Olive Kitteridge in
2015. The idea of elaborate blockbuster miniseries was essentially dead by the mid-2000s
– the last major project of its time I recall was the Sci-Fi’s channel’s Taken
which they aired over ten consecutive weeknights in two hour installments. While
it did win the Emmy for Best Mini Series that year, it was likely more due to
its ambition then its quality – for all
the attempt to tell an epic, multigenerational story in the way the bets
mini-series, at the center there was practically nothing there.
The
mini-series puttered around for the next decade until 2014 when fresh life was
breathed into it. Ryan Murphy had given some momentum to in American Horror
Story but it was the one-two punch of True Detective and Fargo in
the winter and early spring of that year that gave it life. Within just two
years it had been rebranded ‘the limited series’ and the genre has never looked
back. Whatever one might say about whether Peak TV is over, few would argue we
are not still living in the Golden Age of the Limited Series.
But more
than the name has changed about the genre. While few would argue about the
incredible quality of almost every major winner and contender for Best Limited
Series in the past ten years, one could hardly mistake them for the kind of
projects we would get more than half a century ago. Literary adaptations are
still being done to be sure, but projects such as Little Fires Everywhere,
Sharp Objects and last year’s Fleishman is in Trouble are hardly the
kind of epics that would have gotten this kind of treatment. I’m not saying
that’s a drawback; on the contrary, this has led to a greater focus on character and detail that
could often be missed in so many of these bigger projects. But the idea of ‘the
event series’ doesn’t have the same
oomph it was did; you do not get the sense of spectacle that so many of the
great mini-series did. There have been exceptions of course – HBO’s adaptation
of Watchmen and its version of Chernobyl are both major examples
of how immense scope does not necessarily lead to diminish in either writer or
performance. But mostly the smaller ‘more intimate’ limited series has become
par for the course. Well, until the first few months of 2024 and in this case,
it is fitting that we are also going back to one of the greatest.
In 1980,
Americans were enthralled by the adaptation of James Clavell’s Shogun. Clavell
was in the midst of writing was would become known as the Asian Saga, a series
of six epic novels that told the story of Asia being ‘discovered’ by Europeans
that would span over four hundred years. Shogun was the second book, set
in 1600 and dealt with the fictionalized story of the first English navigator
to reach Japan and helps a formidable Japanese warlord deal with a board of
Regents who scheme against him. The first American TV series filmed entirely in
Japan, and with much of the native Japanese cast speaking Japanese – often
without subtitles to depict the disorientation of the shipwrecked John
Blackthorne (played by Richard Chamberlain in that version). The series ran
twelve hours, achieved huge ratings, won the Emmy for Best Mini Series and the
Golden Globe for Best Drama in 1981.
You
would have to be either very brave or a lunatic to want to try and remake one
of the greatest limited series of all time, particularly in an era where any
remake of a beloved project is considered a crime against nature. It is hard to argue that Hiroyuki Sanada is
the latter. Sanada is one of the greatest of all Japanese actors, starring in
some of the greatest projects of the era, including The Twilight Samurai, a
film beloved by Rogert Ebert that won twelve of the Japanese equivalent to the
Oscars. Sanada had had his share of crossover success, some in projects worthy
of him (The Last Samurai) but much of his best work has come on TV.
Genre fans remember him from his brief stint as Dogen in the final season of Lost
(at one point Hurley actually said “I just lied to a samurai) He had
recurring roles on Extant, Helix and Westworld. He has taken the
lead role as Toranaga in the version that FX has created. He has served as
producer on it, and carried his own dog-eared copy with him everywhere, making
sure the production was an accurate. It has taken five years to get the project
done, through a pandemic and two strikes in Hollywood. Now it has finally
debuted on FX and the only word to describe is epic. Also magnificent.
I had
neither read the Clavell book nor seen the original miniseries so I had no bias
going in. But if there is one thing I have learned about television in the past
decade it’s that when it comes to the limited series FX has rarely let me down.
For six years HBO and them exchanged the Emmy for Best Limited Series before HBO
took two in a row with the back-to-back wins of Chernobyl and Watchmen,
FX has not won in that category since but it has nothing to do with a drop
in quality: I could not comprehend why the fourth season of Fargo or Impeachment
were ignored by the Emmys. They’ve already produced two major contenders
for awards in the 2023-2024 lot: the fifth season of Fargo and Capote
Vs. The Swans. Both of those shows are exceptional but far more in the
wheelhouse than anything like Shogun.
Unlike
the original, all of the Japanese is subtitled. Blackthorne is the only
character who speaks English naturally but he understands Portuguese so, for
the benefit of the viewer, we hear all of the Portuguese in English. Blackthorne’s
ship is the last of five vessels that have managed to make it to Japan and
almost all of the crew had died on the trip. The rest of them are suffering
from malnutrition and scurvy when they reach land but are intercepted by
samurai who defer to Toranaga (Sanada).
Toranaga is currently in Osaka, facing a crisis. He is one of five regents who
has been appointed guardianship of the young emperor and the other four have
begun to turn against him. On a pretense that all, including Toranaga, is an
excuse to hold him prisoner and then execute him, he learns of the barbarian
ship and orders it to be monitored. He knows how tenuous his position is and he
is gambling that there might be something in it that can help.
Blackthorne
is played by Cosmo Jarvis. I don’t know how Chamberlain played him in the
original but Jarvis’ version reminds me of Ian McShane in Deadwood. I
mean this as a compliment by the way, Jarvis has no use for God, believes that
the Portuguese are the barbarians and has little use for the Japanese themselves.
He clearly thinks, with his nod to survival and his certainty built in
imperialism that he has the tools to get around the many obstacles he faces.
And he’s in for a mess from the start; he barely survives execution the moment
he is brought out of his prison, manages
to survive only with the arrival of a Spanish sailor (Nestor Carbonell looks both
ragged and old, and is utterly brilliant) once he helps them survive a storm
and manages to persuade them to rescue the Spaniard. The Spaniard repays him by
revealing the logs that show his record of piracy, which give lie to the story
he is telling that he is a merchant, and that he gives to the Portuguese when
they reach Osaka. Blackthorne’s life is once again in immense peril, but he
stubbornly refuses to accept that he is built to die here.
At this
point Toranaga, who inspires immense loyalty and has a devoted following among
his vassals, enlists in his aid Mariko (Anna Sawai) who because of her
religious teachings understands Portuguese and can serve as a translator.
Mariko is married to another samurai with whom she has a difficult relationship
but who clearly cares for her.
The worlds
collide in the second episode and it seems Blackthorne’s fate is sealed. The
regents plan to execute Toranaga but Ishido, head of the council, is halted
because two of the regents who are heavily Catholic, demand ‘the heretic’ be
executed. Ishido plans to do so but he sees this as a way to outmaneuver them
both and an ally of Toranaga promises to help and Blackthorne is saved when ‘bandits’
intervene and kill the guards leading Blackthorne to his death. Blackthorne has
a second meeting which goes better because he is able to draw a map of the
world as he knows it and tells Toranaga certain details that he and his lords
are unaware of, including that Portugal and Spain have divided Asia between
them and that there is a secret base of weapons in Macao. This appalls the
samurai when they here it discussed (“Why not divide the earth and heavens?”
one says.) but they soon realize there is more to it when that night an
assassin comes and only narrowly stops Blackthorne from being killed.
In last
night’s episode Toranaga, knowing his fate is sealed if he remains, plans to escape
Ishido’s ‘custody’. The opening scene is a minor masterpiece of suspense as we
see, but Ishido’s men do not, how Toranaga has managed to escape detection.
When they reach the gates and another inspection takes place, Blackthorne
improvises (so obviously one guard mutters: ‘This is the man we’re
protecting) but it manages to get them out. It does not bring safety: that
night, everything that Toranaga is expecting and more too goes wrong as they
try to flee to the harbor.
As they
escape on boats, they soon realize they may be trapped by Ishido when
Blackthorne runs a gamble and has them sneak about a Portuguese vessel that
needs to get out of Osaka. One of the conditions is Blackthorne be left behind –
something Blackthorne refuses to accept. Yet again he manages to use his
sailing skills to avoid death from behind and the elements, something that
astonishes even the men who watch him. By this time Toranaga has decided to
entrust Blackthorne in their alliance.
The
acting and writing are more than up to the challenge of the usual standard of
limited series these days, but what I find more remarkable about Shogun is
that it manages to do this and yet add to the level of the kind of historical
epics that I often love in film but I have rarely enjoyed when done on television.
Perhaps the comparison to Deadwood I made with is not out of character;
there is a foulness and filthiness to much of what we see Blackthorne and so
many of the Portuguese (Blackthorne curses as much Al Swearengen does) and
there is a kind of graphic violence that I am very familiar with; I’ve seen at
least four beheadings and one man being boiled alive. But I suspect the more
accurate model may be Rome which was hailed by many as an underrated
masterpiece (I never saw it, so I’ll withhold my comparison). I do know that
both series were ultimately cancelled because they became too expensive for HBO
to justify their continued runs.
No
expense was spared for Shogun and you can see all the money on the
screen. It’s not just the brilliance of the scenery or the camera work; the
three episodes I have seen have all of the epic scale of the epics of David
Lean or John Huston. There is an attention to detail that we rarely see in so
many limited series and the camera work and editing are at the kind of level of
a great epic. The battles so often remind me of the kind of fighting I saw in
so many of Edward Zwick’s war movies such as Glory and yes, The Last
Samurai. You can see the blood and the dirt and the death up close as well
as the gallantry in the fighting. I haven’t used words like ‘majesty’ in
relation to a limited series, but I don’t think I’m understating it with Shogun.
All three
episodes I’ve seen, I should mention, also run well over the hour limit of most
limited series: each running anywhere from an hour and a quarter to an hour and
a half. Most of the limited series I’ve seen that have these lengthy episodes (Under
The Banner of Heaven is the most recent example) always seem bloated and overcooked.
Not Shogun. In fact, this is the first limited series I remember. I wish
the episodes were longer because I truly want to stay in this world more
than I can imagine. The time seems to flow in a way I rarely see with many
limited series that have these kinds of episode lengths and that’s the prime example
of great storytelling.
Usually when
something that is considered ‘sacred’ the way Shogun is, you see a huge amount
of review bombing even before the series comes out. I saw it as recently as the
prequel to Sexy Beast. Not here. It’s ranked at 9.2 on imdb.com and
according to Variety when it premiered on Hulu, nine million people viewed it. The
series dropped all at once on Hulu; I’m watching it on FX, mainly because I
want to feel the experience the same way so many viewers once loved other
series like this.
The
sense of the epic has been returned to the limited series in 2024; earlier this
year AppleTV released Masters of The Air, another historical miniseries
that has a similar sense of spectacle that does not skimp on character. It is
likely both series will be major contenders for Emmys during the next few
months, adding to what will likely be an already crowded field. Based on the
reception of both, it’s clear that there is as much a demand for spectacle and
taking the limited aspect out of series.
I’m not
saying I necessarily want this to lead to a diminishment of the kind of series
that I have loved during the era of Peak Limited Series. But Shogun demonstrates
that of the idea of the spectacle is worth doing if it can be done well and
that there is clearly the same kind of audience for it that there is for Night
Country and Lessons in Chemistry. I hope we get more of this kind of
limited series. Hell Clavell did write five other books.
My
score: 4.75 stars.
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