Review: The Bounty Hunter Trilogy on Radiance Films Blu-ray

Three years before his career-defining role as Itto Ogami in the six Lone Wolf and Cub films, Wakayama Tomisaburô starred in a trio of films about doctor, bounty hunter, and sometimes shogun assassin Ichibei Shikoro. Where the Lone Wolf and Cub series leaned much harder into the strategies associated with the exploitation filmmaking movement that was booming in Japan during the early 1970s, the “Bounty Hunter” trilogy has both feet firmly planted in the 1960s, drawing influence from James Bond films and spaghetti westerns as well more violent contemporaneous samurai films such as Okamoto Kihachi’s Sword of Doom and Kill!

The influence of the 007 films on Killer’s Mission, from 1969, alone is evident right out of the gate, both in Yagi Masao’s score and our first glimpse of Ichibei preparing his gadgets, including a cane sword and a miniature crossbow, as he readies himself for his mission to prevent an enemy, Shogun Satsuma, from purchasing guns from a group of Dutch soldiers. That plot, which involves plenty of intrigue and countless double-crosses, is mostly beside the point, merely serving as the narrative scaffolding upon which Ichibei can unleash his arsenal of weapons and cross paths with colorful secondary characters.

Killer’s Mission doesn’t lack for violent sword fights, and one torture scene is especially sadistic. But it’s also surprisingly light-hearted at times, as in a funny extended sequence where Ichibei pretends to be blind—a winking nod to Wakayama’s real-life brother, Katsu Shintarô, whose most famous for playing the blind masseur and swordsman in the long-running Zatoichi series. There’s an acute balance of levity and bloodshed here that’s lost in the two more somber sequels.

Where the influence of spaghetti westerns was dwarfed by that of 007 in Killer’s Mission, the film’s follow-up from the same year, The Fort of Death, goes all in on the former, as evinced by Tsushima Toshiaki’s Morricone-esque score and the visual references to “Man With No Name” trilogy. Ichibei enters this film not obsessing over gadgets, but on horseback dragging a bounty behind him while chomping on a small stick that’s playfully reminiscent of the brown cigars that Clint Eastwood’s character obsessively puffed in Sergio Leone’s classics.

For all the film’s aesthetic gesturing toward spaghetti westerns, its plot is taken straight from Kurosawa Akira’s Seven Samurai. Where Killer’s Mission saw Ichibei as a blend of Bond and Mifune Toshirô’s samurai from Yojimbo, Kudo Eiichi’s follow-up morphs him into something akin to Eastwood’s squinty-eyed killer but with a dash of Mifune’s characters from Seven Samurai and Red Beard. His motives here—protecting a poor, oppressed village that’s rebelling against their greedy, exploitative clan leader, Ozeki (Koike Asao)—are considerably more altruistic. Yet he’s also more savage in battle, this time replacing his gadgets with a gatling gun that he repeatedly uses to gun down Ozeki’s seemingly endless supply of warriors.

Along with more visually expressive fight sequences, among them a notable nighttime duel amid several fires in a bamboo forest, Fort of Death takes on a more mournful tone that accompanies its barrage of battle scenes. And with higher stakes and genuine emotional through lines, the film elegantly captures the costs of violence, ending on a final shot that’s typical of a western: the hero riding off into the sunset. Only here, the purple hazy sunset is so dark and foreboding that it’s as if Ichibei is riding not toward another adventure but death itself.

The trilogy’s final film, Eight Men to Kill, didn’t come for another three years, and only went into production after the first Lone Wolf and Cub film was released in 1972. The earlier “Bounty Hunter” films drew primarily from a variety of popular ’60s films. But Eight Men to Kill, helmed by Killer’s Mission director Ozawa Shigehiro, is clearly pitched at a ’70s audience, as evinced by a couple of erotic sex scenes that would fit comfortably in the popular pink films of that era. But while Eight Men to Kill was spurred on by the success of Lone Wolf and Cub: Sword of Vengeance, it contains little of its pulpy flair, borrowing only the trope of a cute child in peril.

Despite its dusty setting and premise revolving around missing gold, this entry also feels less like a spaghetti western than the prior film, and Ichibei is now a blandly dignified protagonist, whose selfless plan to recover the gold and open hospitals throughout Japan puts him more in line with the traditional noble samurai (albeit with an alarming Jheri curl). This would be less of an issue if Eight Men to Kill were nearly as action-packed as its predecessors, but the violence has been considerably toned down here. Still, while this is easily the most workmanlike and generic film in the series, Wakayama’s charisma is enough to make this a worthy addition to a trilogy that frequently displays the dynamic and adaptable nature of the samurai film.

Image/Sound

All three of the high-def transfers included on this release look great, with strong textures, particularly in close-up, and color balancing that lends a vibrancy to the ever-present reds and greens. The image is a tad softer in wide shots and the occasional night-time sequence is slightly lacking in details, but overall, each transfer offers up welcome depth and pleasing textures. The 24-bit mono audio nicely handles the cacophony of clashing swords and gunfire, while the dialogue and each of the three scores cut through the noise loud and clear.

Extras

Author and critic Tom Mes provides an extremely informative audio commentary on the first film in the “Bounty Hunter” trilogy, Killer’s Mission, covering the massive career of director Ozawa Shigehiro and the history of Toei Company over the 20-plus years that he worked there. Mes covers a lot of ground, and he does a wonderful job offering specific analysis of this specific film, while also speaking to the broader strokes of the Japanese film industry in the late 1960s and the differences between all three films in the trilogy.

Also of note is an interview with film historian Akihito Ito, who discusses Toei’s program pictures in the ’60s, Ozawa’s career, and the filmmaker’s involvement in crafting the choreography of many of the fight sequences he directed. We also get a visual essay by Japanese cinema expert Robin Gatto, whose focus is largely on The Fort of Death and its director, Kudo Eiichi. He also touches on the increasing influence of mangas on Japanese cinema in the late ’60s, as well as series star Wakayama Tomisaburô training in swordplay and acrobatics.

The package is rounded out with six postcards, and a beautiful 40-page booklet with an essay by samurai film expert Alain Silver, a Kudo obituary by filmmaker Fukasaku Kinji, and an archival interview with Ozawa conducted after he retired from filmmaking.

Overall

Radiance’s release of the overlooked “Bounty Hunter” trilogy shows just how versatile and highly entertaining the Japanese samurai film can be.