Return of the Samurai

Visual master Tomohiro Sasaki tells Nick Lewis how video games and manga inspired their radical reworking of Shakespeare

Feature by Nick Lewis | 16 Jul 2010

The list of characters could be straight from the pages of any manga comic or Capcom video game, and the story might be inspired in part by traditional Japanese kabuki theatre, but the story of Death of a Samurai might nevertheless seem strangely familiar – especially if you know your Shakespeare.

It's testament to their unique and enduring appeal that Japanese theatre company A-LIGHT are returning to Edinburgh with their unique reimagining of A Midsummer Night's Dream for a third year – and now with the increased expectation that comes with a larger venue. The play's eclectic and mercurial nature brings inherent difficulties, of course. Bringing a staid set of 16th century royals to the stage is one thing; rendering a tale of evil swordsmen, werewolves and reckless ninjas in the confines of a Fringe production is an altogether different endeavour. Add in a troupe of actors with only a smattering of English between them, and the scale of the challenge becomes truly daunting. To an extent I can sympathise, being faced with the relatively straightforward task of conducting an interview. Thankfully, I have a translator.

Death of A Samurai is both beautifully realised and meticulously choreographed by writer, director and video game creator Tomohiro Sasaki. Effortlessly combining elements of Japanese and western European culture, he forges an idiosyncratic reworking of A Midsummer Night’s Dream with nods to manga, anime and, perhaps surprisingly, Italian filmmaker Federico Fellini’s La Strada.

Sasaki’s background in computer games has given his production a rare energy not easily attainable in the worlds of film or theatre. “In creating games, programmers control every movement of the characters by calculation. In my play, on one hand, actors need to control their actions like a programmer; on the other hand, they also need to move according to their emotion. I think this is one of the characteristic points of this show – that the digital world is combined with the analogue world of theatre.” Every scene seems to reflect this ethos with every slap, slice and tumble accompanied by a sound effect or cymbal crash, while tucked away within the breathless hyperactivity are some stunning kabuki tableaus devised from a modest collection of props.

The schizophrenia at the core of his production is perhaps best embodied by extrovert ninja Jack—a colourful mash-up of characters from mangas Dragonball Z and Naruto—and dark samurai Kirihito, played by Kazuhisai Minai. Where Jack bounds cheerfully from one comic mishap to another, Kirihito broods in loneliness. The conflict in Minai’s performance can be traced to the dual, and extraordinarily disparate influences of Hamlet and 17th century swordsman Miyamoto Musashi. His broken English is itself used as a weapon: its sheer simplicity conveys the emotion of Shakespearean verse. Indeed, it is a vindication of Sasaki’s ambition to “create and present a play which can move audiences all over the world beyond differences of language” that last year’s Edinburgh audience was captivated by entire scenes of dialogue conducted exclusively in Japanese. A reaction which he thinks perhaps would not be reciprocated, for example, by an audience in Tokyo or Fukuoka: “In Japan, not all people are familiar with theatre. In Edinburgh, the whole city welcomes us and people accept us doing rehearsals on the street.”

Minai echoes similar sentiments, adding that he feeds on not only the festive atmosphere, but variously on “buildings, walls, and music – everything is beautiful. I feel as if I’m in a movie.” Improvisation is at the heart of everything A-LIGHT do. Beginning with a workshop audition with selected Shakespearean texts, the actors are actively encouraged to develop and grow into their roles not only in rehearsal, but during their festival run. “An actor's job is to give life to his character which was just written in a script at first. Learning one's role doesn't have an end, for an actor should continually develop himself by reflecting on his role and his life.”

By adopting such a disciplined attitude to their craft the cast of Death of a Samurai have woven a fascinating mystical tapestry. An hour of this breathless and utterly endearing escapism should be enough to move even the most hardened Fringe-goer. Sit near the front an immerse yourself in this joyously colourful spectacle.

Death of a Samurai
Augustine's
7-30 Aug (not 16 or 23), 7.45pm/8.45pm, £7-£13