BrandonHabes’s review published on Letterboxd:
About ten minutes in I started to watch Kurosawa's debut as if I was a young George Lucas taking notes. I have no idea if Lucas ever saw this film, it probably doesn't matter, but there's enough thematic seeds and visual trademarks here that hint at the universe Lucas loved, and foreshadows the universe Kurosawa would continually perfect. We got transition "wipes," the hero's journey, an ancient warrior discipline, the culture clash of how that discipline is applied, mythic epiphanies, a character named Yano (Yoda?), and I think most tellingly, that mysterious, almost zen-like power behind the warrior's art that never seems fully understood by anyone who wants to wield it. In Kurosawa's world, this power isn't vied after by Siths or Jedis, but by judo and jujitsu masters and trainees.
"What is judo?" asks Sugata. It's an odd question that prompts laughter from the jujitsu warriors around him, perhaps akin to asking "what is the Force?" There are rumors this new judo art is dangerous, fraudulent, and without form, which many of the men see as a threat to traditional jujitsu. There might be some subtle critique of the Meiji cultural advent through this rivalry between jujitsu and judo, but it's never examined in any meaningful, Ozuian way. What struck me as interesting is the way this strange, new and enticing judo power draws Sugata into the hero's journey, and the style and technique Kurosawa uses to visualize the point.
For example, let's talk about how badass the fight choreography is here. Kurosawa could've shot these scenes with a lot of fanfare (shouting, screaming, swelling music, high impact editing, etc.), but instead he silently and efficiently relies upon stillness to create suspense. Furthermore, when you compare the simplicity of each combat sequence using bare hands with later Kurosawa work—using sword, spear, gun, or knife—you start to realize how Kurosawa's minimal technique mirrors the art and simplicity of judo itself. Judo is a hand-to-hand spiritual technique about controlling conflict, as opposed to engaging with it. The way Kurosawa frames his actors during these high-tension moments, the way he moves the camera and pares back any dramatic musical accompaniment, makes the power of judo's technique clear and understandable.
This isn't an adventure epic like Kurosawa's samurai films, but it does have the plot elements of a warrior's tale that feels fledgling in nature. It feels similar to the many heroes of his films who struggle to achieve a higher spiritual plane through a series of physical and mental challenges.
In particular, judo is portrayed as more spiritual, less feral than jujitsu, a skill set that requires not just brute strength, but compassion for one's enemy equal to those extreme impulses. There are wickedly cool flower epiphanies along the way that help transform Sugata from unformed to formed master, but it's never punctuated with any kind of conclusive arrival regarding what he's become. I like how Donald Ritchie framed this point:
"One might expect the picture to end with some kind of statement that [Sugata] has at last grown-up, that he has arrived, that he has become something — the great judo champion. This would be the logical Western conclusion to a film about the education of a hero. Kurosawa, however, has seen that this cannot be true. A hero who actually becomes is tantamount to a villain —for this was the only tangible aspect of the villain's villainy. To suggest that peace, contentment, happiness, follows a single battle, no matter how important, is literally untrue."
In other words, the hero's journey is a lifelong process, not a single event. Sugata's character arc is never complete, but ongoing, as suggested when his judo master recants the idea that he's "finally grown up" after winning the tournament: "Oh, no, not yet, not yet. He is still just a little boy." Overcoming vices or the pull towards reckless, undisciplined behavior (like the young Sugata at the beginning) will be a lifelong process. It’s a provocative, Eastern-styled point that haters of THE LAST JEDI still haven’t come to terms with.
Ultimately, this is a story that's largely about Sugata's training and education of a spiritual discipline, a journey that intimates the yin-yang harmony that Lucas would develop in the Skywalker saga decades later. It's an unusually strong first work, one that not only portends thematic obsessions and stylistic ambitions, but sets up a profile for Kurosawa to become a heavyweight presence in the world.