Unjustly cast out and stripped of their rank, forced to quibble for crumbs, scrap for sustenance, and transcend for trifles, Carl Rinsch's 47 Ronin patiently wait to seek vengeance, the pressures of time motivationally closing in.
Their Lord was betrayed through bewitching and forced to take his own life to maintain his family's honour.
A humble troubled outcast who renounced his demonic tutelage possesses the forbidden knowledge necessary to arm their ascent.
Composed as a group, they unite forthwith, entrusting enlivened artists with their plans, prognosticating as a matter of necessity.
In absolute domains.
Liked what happens in 47 Ronin which takes place in 18th-century Japan more than the film itself, but I respect what it delivers.
It provides a traditional story steeped in loyalty, overflowing with injustices, told in a traditional way, for audiences respectful of said traditions.
It's a true exercise in modesty considering that it doesn't play-up Kai's (Keanu Reeves) demonic abilities even though such a feature may have increased its salutations.
Form working hand-in-hand with content.
Even the mythical beast isn't shown-off.
Restraint.
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