The Last Samurai

Outstanding action and performance; lots of blood.

It's easy to stand back and wax ironic about The Last Samurai. But it's not all that difficult to succumb to its full-spirited romanticism either.

Competently mounted in its studiedly immersive, elongated way, Zwick's earnest costume epic dresses a knee-jerk, reactionary sensibility in exotic garb.

As brisk as it is rich, The Last Samurai is much more fun than a mere history lesson.

The Last Samurai is an idyll in which the savageries of existence are transcended by spiritual devotion. That's a beautiful dream, and it gives the film a deep pleasingness, but the fullness of life and its blackest ambiguities are sacrificed.

Zwick is attracted to the notions of victory in defeat and the romantic purity of self-sacrifice. His film is, however, a trifle earnest and overlong.

Is a romance really necessary, no matter how ridiculous, just to prove the two male leads aren't in love with each other?

The Last Samurai delivers one of the stronger historical adventure epics of recent years.

Zwick's film idealizes the "noble savage" and denigrates modern society not from the point of view of a serious critique of capitalism, but in a misanthropic, right-wing populist manner.

The breathtaking showpiece skirmishes might well suggest a Braveheart set in Japan, but there is something more going on here than merely rolling out the battles.