Yukio Ninagawa, best known for his epic Shakespearean stagings which have become a staple of previous Barbican bite seasons, this year offers a new take on a popular Japanese legend.
In Hisashi Inoue’s stage version, the two men are reunited six years later at the “tiny” Horinji Temple, where they are forced to confront their differences (as well as a few ghosts) by the attendant holy men and women, who are there on retreat.
The show opens with the duel, conducted beneath an all-encompassing sun, with Musashi running off to find medical help for his still-breathing foe. This is followed by one of the most beautifully orchestrated scene changes I’ve ever witnessed, as sections of the temple and its surrounding trees are wheeled on stage to perform a kind of hypnotic dance, before finally coming to rest as a perfectly formed Noh-style stage.
The action at the Temple takes place over three days, building to a re-match between the reunited samurai. There are some extraordinary sequences, including a bizarre ‘Octopus Dance’ performed by Mai Kiya (Kayoko Shiraishi), a woman with a past who claims to be Kojiro’s mother, and a witty Tango-infused training montage.
I won’t profess to have a full grasp of the varied cultural and religious references that pepper the script, nor will I pretend that my focus didn’t lag at points during the three-hour running time. There are frequent longueurs during which not much happens at all (the story is actually pretty thin), but the design elements are impeccable and the dialogue is often very funny – “listen to old people, they are closer to heaven” the elders admonish the young swordsmen.
Ninagawa has often been criticised for his direction of actors, but
here he has the chance to dig deep with a relatively small ensemble. The all-Japanese cast – especially Shiraishi and Naomasa Musaka as a sermonising priest – show an impressive range of physical and vocal expression, as well as a deft touch in the Kyogen-inspired comic sequences.
As Musashi and Kojiro, the highly acclaimed Tatsuya Fujiwara and Ryo Katsuji could almost be twins with their matching top knots and robes, and when the pacifist message finally hits home at the end their kinship is deeply moving (reducing several audience members around me to tears).