The Inspiration

I was inspired to watch the series after reading a friend’s eloquent review. I binge watched it. I recall little of the book that the series is based on and was therefore free from the intrusion of text and memory.

The series is set in 17th-century feudal Japan. The unfamiliar context—the history, places, people, names and relationships—were a struggle initially. It reminded me of the cribs that people had watching Ponniyin Selvan. I am not accustomed to note-taking while watching a film or a series, and mental notes get overwritten many times during a binge.

The mental note that survives is to watch the series a second time.

The Story—an Impressionistic Account

At its core, Shōgun is about five feudal lords jostling for power to lord over the Realm (which one understands to mean the entirety of Japan), a circumstance that arises after the death of their all-powerful overlord and his son being too young to succeed him immediately. This sets off competition for expanded power, rivalry, chicanery and deception amongst the five. One amongst them, Toranaga (Hiroyuki Sanada), is more powerful and a thorn in the flesh, unwilling to fall for the machinations of the others. Since collective decisions are mandated, impeaching him and replacing him with a more pliable replacement is the considered option.

An Englishman, John Blackthorne (played by Cosmo Jarvis), a ship’s pilot, landing into this tense situation, offers a contrast of cultures. He is held captive and is an object of suspicion and novelty to start with. He survives and later thrives under the silent, wise and wily Toranaga, drawn into the ways of Japan while also keen on getting back to his ship and personal freedoms.

Thrown into the mix are the Portuguese, bringing Jesus and ferrying goods—trading one for the other—expanding their influence and enriching themselves. God’s work can be heady, dangerous and served sometimes by deals with the wicked, the amoral, the greedy and the power-hungry. The Englishman’s warnings about the Portuguese mostly go unheeded.

Will Toranaga let the lust for power and dominion of one feudal lord prevail? Will our powerful lord yield to the collective will and participate in the ignominy of his own impeachment?

There is intense intrigue, action aplenty, a simmering potion of desire and attraction, big battles, epic confrontations, and as the drama unfolds, we see Japan’s culture permeating every frame, in every respectful bow and every drop of blood shed.

A Peek into the Times

The keywords that come up are loyalty, duty, sacrifice, allegiance and honour.

It is a clan’s life. The boundaries of the clan are well delineated. The lord’s writ rules and the space for discussion, negotiation and influence is largely by his grace There is implicit and dignified obedience. There is little overt resistance, no matter the hardship a decision may entail or the emotional demand that it makes. A select few gain access to some territory and control of resources through acts of bestowal.

The lord doesn’t seek war or bloodshed but can be fiercely protective of his fief and its ways. Personal loyalty is absolute, and allegiance is a very public act, that includes the most extreme of steps—embracing death.

The social relations and hierarchies within the clan are regulated by custom and manifest in the daily rituals of bowing and greeting, eating, tea-ing, patterns of conversation and rights to co-habiting (not to forget pillowing—go figure what that is!). The lord is the ultimate arbiter. Customs acquire the character of immutable laws. They also constitute a glue, tests of loyalty to a higher power and belonging to a group/clan.

As expected, this overtly restrained, custom-bound, apparently staid and steady life is disturbed by periodic upheavals in their society’s fertile underbelly of temptation, lust, greed, vengefulness, hubris, power-mongering, savagery and beastly impulses—all that has been denied and driven underground—the colourful, enlivening, creative, destructive, corrosive… There are encounters of repressed but smouldering passions, the impetuousness of youth spoiling for a fight, the resort to cunning to gain the upper hand. They speak of the emotional and impulse-laden imperative to express, impact and assert and seek self-gratification, ever-present, waiting for instigation by chemistry, counter-dependence or challenging circumstance.

In a context that is largely patriarchal, women use silence, submission, status and guile to survive and thrive, while never compromising their formal presentation of loyalty to their lord. Anna Sawai (who plays Toda Mariko) does brilliantly, portraying passion and restraint, emotion, and her retreat from them, and pride and conformance with great effect.

What constitutes honour in the world of Shōgun is inferred from incidents of people taking their own life for dishonourable acts—acts such as going against the ways of the clan or bringing shame, betrayal, defeat or surrender—acts that compromise the prestige of one’s place/community of belonging. Seppuku—the ritualistic Japanese way of suicide, an honourable alternative to punishment or death—a form of atonement, and a hope for redemption, is not for the weak.

Where death and separation hang in the air, and where the ‘honourable’ is placed above the humane, there is an unsentimental acceptance of life and death as part of existence. Belonging is valued highly, attachment is not, perhaps.

The samurais we see here aren’t the skilled and brave soldiers set for conquest and expansionism, or ronins for hire, but proud and fearless warriors trained to protect their clan and their lord. They are a brave lot, who, in the end, are just pawns in the intricate game of power and control of the feudal chiefs. The samurais’ unflinching loyalty to their masters means they pay with their lives.

It is interesting to follow the arc of the Englishman in his encounter with Japan. Did he have to become less of an Englishman over time? Would he surrender his free will and spirit, his assertion and his agency? How did the Englishman gain acceptance and significance in Toranaga’s scheme of things? He challenged without threatening, and demonstrated his utility, showed he was superior in some areas, earned respect and even saved lives. Besides, he adopted local customs when nudged, grudgingly to start with, and more willingly with time, and learnt the native language too—not as an act of submission but more readily and respectfully. Some pointers for venturing into alien environments, perhaps. In contrast, the Portuguese remain outsiders, out only for themselves and their god.

Oddly, it is the casting of the Englishman that I have some criticism about. He had a meaty role that was beyond his ability and presence to pull off.

In Conclusion

Shōgun is an epic novel and Season 1 of the television adaptation is replete with incidents and plot lines that I have skipped bringing up here.

I unreservedly recommend the series. The production values are great, and the performances are credible. Someone more well versed in the craft of filmmaking may have more specific comments. I found it grand, well presented and engaging.

Available to stream on Disney+ Hotstar.