by Jake Bourgeois,Contributing Writer
Other limited series might as well pack their bags and thank their lucky stars that the strike means there’s likely to be a dip in submissions for this year’s Emmy nomination window, because the race for Outstanding Limited or Anthology Series is OVER.
Ever since the trailers started dropping for Hulu/FX’s Shōgun, it became one of my most anticipated series of the year. An epic tale of political maneuvering set in feudal Japan with the star power of Hiroyuki Sanada? Say. No. More. The fact that it managed to exceed my sky-high expectations speaks volumes.
The series follows an English navigator, or pilot, John Blackthorne (Cosmo Jarvis), aboard a Dutch ship. He becomes marooned in Japan at a time when the politics are balanced on a razor’s edge. In an unfamiliar landscape, he finds himself in the court of Lord Yoshii Toranaga (Sanada) as he tries to survive. Blackthorne is forced to navigate the intricacies of an unfamiliar culture, assisted by translator Toda Mariko (Anna Sawai), as he becomes part of a struggle much larger than himself.
As I reflect on my experience, there’s certainly a lot that the show does at a top-notch level, but there’s a performance that stood head and shoulders above everything else. Sawai is a bona fide star. As my personal introduction to her work (she also appears in F9 and the recent Monarch: Legacy of Monsters), to say I was blown away was an understatement. There’s immense complexity to both the character of Mariko and the performance behind it. There’s a lot of work for Sawai to do through what she says, how she says it, and what she doesn’t say. She has the best dialogue in the show, but some of her best acting is done without it. Even when she’s not talking, though, she’s fantastic. There’s so much she’s able to say with just her expression.
When you marry the dialogue with what she does physically, it just elevates further. There’s so much to read into what she says, her tone, and her emotion. Is she in a position where she’s able to let her façade down? Do her words match what’s behind them? It’s so layered — made even more so by her background. It illustrates the tangled web honor and family can be in Japanese culture, as well as the impact of faith and the Portuguese missionaries that have made their push into the islands. So much of her character is about the idea of eightfold fences that she explains to Blackthorne, having to compartmentalize and build a mental wall she can retreat behind to survive, that carries through the course of the series.
This is my performance of the year — small screen or big — and if someone manages to come along and knock her off her perch, I will be utterly shocked.
As the other lead, Jarvis, can seem a bit awkward at times, though that improves as the series goes along. Blackthorne is in an awkward position, and his performance conveys that. He can also be frustrating, but it’s because he’s supposed to be. Even among his fellow Europeans, he’s an outcast. As a Protestant, the Catholics that have sway are more his enemy than the Japanese he’s nominally imprisoned by. As the character progresses, the impact that has on his fellow Europeans is fascinating. At times, he seems more adrift on dry land than he was when we’re first introduced to him and the rest of his flailing colleagues.
Sanada himself perfectly understands his role and executes it to perfection. There’s a gravitas to Toranaga that not everyone can get an audience to buy into. Sanada does it with ease. More than his status and reputation, no one is a better maneuverer. We’re shown time and time again to never take anything at face value, or to count this master manipulator out.
Aside from our main trio, there are a few more performances among the ensemble I want to give some shine. Tadanobu Asano (Hogun in the MCU) is perhaps the most fun performance. While many of them are understated, the fact that he more often than not wears his emotions on his sleeves is a nice change of pace. Tokuma Nishioka is great as Toranaga’s right-hand man. Stoic and steady, he’s a stable voice whose utter loyalty makes it impossible not to sit up on the odd occasion that he gives voice to a disagreement. Shinnosuke Abe as Mariko’s husband is notable as a figure who I loved to hate, managed to get my sympathy, and then reignited my anger even further. For that, he gets my respect.
Even before it went off the air, shows were falling all over themselves for the title of the next Game of Thrones. It’s a label that’s thrown around too cavalierly for my tastes, becoming a cheap comparison for something that was either set in a medieval or fantastical world rife with political maneuvering. So take that into account when I say that this is a show that I think actually deserves such a comparison — and it’s for a multitude of reasons. First, there’s a gravitas to the conflict that the show is able to get to translate from the screen. That’s not to say that there are a lot of battles, per se, but it always has you aware of what’s at stakes. The show also does political maneuvering better than any show since. The chess on display as Toranaga attempts to stay ahead of his rival’s attempts to checkmate him was as enthralling as anything GoT had to offer, and “Now I fear you only have four” immediately skyrockets up my personal list of all-time mic drops. Then, of course, there’s The Temple of Doom effect. It reaches into your chest and makes you stare at your beating heart. In a weird way, I was happy to see the show coming to an end, because I wasn’t sure how much more of the emotional torture I could be put through. Even when it’s not pulling on the heartstrings, Shōgun has an ability to have you invested in the quietest moment before pulling a complete 180 and shocking you with violence.
Even so, the comparison to GoT still manages to feel cheap, given how singular an experience watching Shōgun was. In the press tour, both leading up to its premiere and throughout its run, the cast and crew talked about the importance of putting their culture and their history on display. It’s clear from the behind the scenes content how much effort was put in to making sure the show was as accurate as possible, whether that be through history explainers or videos on the show’s site. While even as a history buff, “accuracy” isn’t always something I’m going to require projects to adhere to, the level of care that was taken here undeniably elevates things. It’s a passion project, and that comes through in a lot of ways, including how important it was for the cast and crew to see themselves and their culture represented on screen. It even got Sanada to take the step of signing on as a producer, something he had never done previously. That all comes through as through every costume, every ritualistic gesture, every forced nicety.
This isn’t the first time the novel by James Clavell has been adapted. The previous miniseries adaptation based on it pushed boundaries with the censors in the ‘80s. While this adaptation doesn’t do that, it takes advantage of a television landscape that allows for it to be made to its fullest potential. We’re in a world where the acceptance of foreign language programming is at an all-time high. An international film is nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars every year at this point. Anime fandom is exploding. That’s important, because being able to use multiple languages is so crucial to why Shōgun is so successful in telling its story. There are characters who speak Japanese, characters who speak Portuguese (though that comes across as English to the viewer’s ears), and others who speak both. Who can understand what, when, and how those with the power to translate relay the words of others is a fascinating political aspect of the show. We learn a lot from what is said (or not) in either language. It’s great throughout, but in particular the episodes “The Eightfold Fence” and “Ladies of the Willow World” are when it’s at its absolute best.
The show is also technically gorgeous — for the most part. In 2024, this telling is able to give us all the requisite violence needed to tell its story. Not unlike Blue Eyed Samurai, there’s an art to a kill. Sure, there is the very ritualistic nature of some deaths that are a feature of this period, but even the “uglier” violence in the show has a visual flair to it. The cinematography equally beautifully captures the quieter moments with just as much care, or when setting the scale of the epic story. If I wanted to nitpick, the only places where the show falters ever so slightly are in the brief moments when the background gives the effects away, or the odd establishing shot that is needed to complement the absolutely gorgeous production design.
I’ve previously wondered if FX’s partnership with Hulu is perhaps being underrated, given the quality it’s been producing. I think we’re officially done with that period. It’s now undeniable that they’re among the best in the game. While I know those who were watching alongside me fervently enjoyed it — I had not one, but two tweets go viral (relatively for me) during my watch — with how segmented our watching habits are, it’s so hard to gauge. Though apparently it was a record-breaker at its premiere, I couldn’t find anything that looked at anything past that. For my money, a project like this can’t get enough eyes.
As far as a miniseries, Shōgun belongs right up with the best even the gold standard of HBO has to offer. I’d be hard-pressed to name a season of television, particularly if I’m limited to miniseries, that can best it since Watchmen came out. It’s up there with The Last of Us and Arcane for me as the best shows produced in recent years. Period. That’s the stratosphere we’re in here. Theoretically, because of the Hulu partnership, I could have watched the show whenever I wanted on Tuesdays (a day when I’m generally home by noon), but I found myself waiting for the sun to go down to turn it on, because it felt like it deserved it. (Less so the “prime time” spot, more so a viewing experience optimized without the threat of a glare.)
One month out from the Emmy nomination window closing for the year, there’s a clear frontrunner at the head of the limited series race, but even looking through the lens of the calendar year, I don’t imagine anything will be able to touch this for the best television has to offer.
Rating: Loved It
Shōgun is currently streaming on Hulu
You can read more from Jake Bourgeois, and follow him on Twitter and Letterboxd