The conclusion of this trilogy accomplishes something that filmmakers strive to achieve in an adaptation, creating an ending that is far more impactful, and ultimately improves upon its source. The plot of the three films deviates from the manga, but every change was done sensibly, omitting characters and subplots that ultimately had no real impact on the overall story of Kenshin himself and were appropriate for the two hour format. Ohtomo had already consolidated so much material (deftly, by the way), and there was no realistic way the Juppongatana could have been detailed anymore in a feature length film format without seeming overly contrived or indigestible to an objective audience. Aside from Sojiro, Cho and Anji, the Ten Swords are all just filler characters meant to rival the other protagonists. With that in consideration, the characters were fairly balanced. Obviously it's all subjective, the first act of the final film is a slow burn but these sequences are mesmerizing, and are exactly what cinematic fights should be. They contain the trilogies most imperative lessons for Kenshin, and provide crucial information as to what the viewer has been wanting to understand about him. With Takuro Ishizaka's sweeping cinematography and Kenji Tanigaki's choreography, we as viewers acknowledge the sense of conflict and respect between Kenshin and Hiko, and with each strike of their sword, a suggestion of their pasts and relationship. And what lies at the heart of Rurouni Kenshin are it's lessons.
A distinct attribute of Sawatashi's costuming that sets him apart from his competition and makes them look authentically beautiful is the layer of dirt and filth that he permits. Visible in Takashi Miike's 13 Assassins as well, the costumes are torn up, grungy, and feature countless blemishes. This element, though minute to some, really sells the world and grounds it in realism, while starkly contrasting any polished or romanticized western iterations of Japanese/samurai culture in film. This is also prevalent in Akira Kurosawa's filmography, illustrating to the audience that although these warriors may seem godlike, they clearly are only human. They can become exhausted, critically injured, emotionally vulnerable, and layered in filth. This reflects the mortality of it's characters and when the combatants are battered and bloodied during such climaxes like Seven Samurai or The Legend Ends, it instills tension, engrossing the audience on a visceral level and further establishing the film in realism. It has a layer of grit to it that makes its atmosphere appear lived in and genuine. It makes the fight sequences feel real, emotionally and psychologically charged, you can detect the characters motivations and the undoubtedly real exhaustion emitting from the actors further creates tone and characterization.
Tanigaki and Satoh were devoted to authentically depicting various techniques featured in the source material. For example, at the pinnacle of The Legend Ends, Kenshin faces the vengeful Aoshi Shinomori for the first time. As the filming continued, Ohtomo's belief in physical actions being an essential component to acting in general was put to the test. In this sequence, a vital, but tremendously challenging technique for Kenshin to achieve was equally challenging to re-imagine on screen. The sword technique is called the Kuzuryusen. In the source material, it's a technique where Kenshin attacks nine different places on an opponent's body at the same time, so there is no evading it. It was initially seemingly impossible to choreograph, but with perfect coordination, Satoh, Tanigaki, and his team managed to depict this technique in a unique and compelling manner that differentiated it from the source material and from the anime, juxtaposing Kenshin's methodical recoiling of his katana with his uncompromising, lightning fast, blink-and-you'll-miss-it nine lashes of his sword. Another example is during the climax of The Legend Ends, where Kenshin executes the final technique of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū or "High Heaven Style." The payoff of Kenshin's learning this ultimate sword technique (Amakakeru Ryū no Hirameki) instilled great tension in viewers on its own, knowing that it was being learnt in the first act of the film. Seeing it realized in a live-action format during the final moments of the duel against Shishio was impressively satisfying. With the viewers knowing that it would soon be unveiled, the moment Kenshin executes this sacramental technique put audiences in awe of the hero slow sheathing the Sakabatō and holding his exaggerated, sunk posture is a truly cinematic, nail-biting moment. While, there are certain characters in the ensemble who fall by the wayside, receiving only a short amount of screen time, the film is told with such assuredness of direction that it is easy to forgive those flaws. To say that the film is light in its narrative is to say the franchise of Rurouni Kenshin is light narratively. While that may or may not be true, these adaptations absolutely embrace and own the elements of its source, thus elevating it from feeling as if you're witnessing yet another parable of a hackneyed renegade hero, by uniquely subverting its characters. The Legend Ends is one of the best action films of the last decade, satisfyingly concluding what may possibly be the greatest martial arts trilogy, and contains what is arguably the best sword-based choreography ever committed to film. The finale is far more poetic than the others - philosophical, even - and it's no poorer for it. It doesn't really work as a stand-alone film, though, so it needs to be considered as an extension of its predecessors, and in that context, it's brilliant.
A distinct attribute of Sawatashi's costuming that sets him apart from his competition and makes them look authentically beautiful is the layer of dirt and filth that he permits. Visible in Takashi Miike's 13 Assassins as well, the costumes are torn up, grungy, and feature countless blemishes. This element, though minute to some, really sells the world and grounds it in realism, while starkly contrasting any polished or romanticized western iterations of Japanese/samurai culture in film. This is also prevalent in Akira Kurosawa's filmography, illustrating to the audience that although these warriors may seem godlike, they clearly are only human. They can become exhausted, critically injured, emotionally vulnerable, and layered in filth. This reflects the mortality of it's characters and when the combatants are battered and bloodied during such climaxes like Seven Samurai or The Legend Ends, it instills tension, engrossing the audience on a visceral level and further establishing the film in realism. It has a layer of grit to it that makes its atmosphere appear lived in and genuine. It makes the fight sequences feel real, emotionally and psychologically charged, you can detect the characters motivations and the undoubtedly real exhaustion emitting from the actors further creates tone and characterization.
Tanigaki and Satoh were devoted to authentically depicting various techniques featured in the source material. For example, at the pinnacle of The Legend Ends, Kenshin faces the vengeful Aoshi Shinomori for the first time. As the filming continued, Ohtomo's belief in physical actions being an essential component to acting in general was put to the test. In this sequence, a vital, but tremendously challenging technique for Kenshin to achieve was equally challenging to re-imagine on screen. The sword technique is called the Kuzuryusen. In the source material, it's a technique where Kenshin attacks nine different places on an opponent's body at the same time, so there is no evading it. It was initially seemingly impossible to choreograph, but with perfect coordination, Satoh, Tanigaki, and his team managed to depict this technique in a unique and compelling manner that differentiated it from the source material and from the anime, juxtaposing Kenshin's methodical recoiling of his katana with his uncompromising, lightning fast, blink-and-you'll-miss-it nine lashes of his sword. Another example is during the climax of The Legend Ends, where Kenshin executes the final technique of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū or "High Heaven Style." The payoff of Kenshin's learning this ultimate sword technique (Amakakeru Ryū no Hirameki) instilled great tension in viewers on its own, knowing that it was being learnt in the first act of the film. Seeing it realized in a live-action format during the final moments of the duel against Shishio was impressively satisfying. With the viewers knowing that it would soon be unveiled, the moment Kenshin executes this sacramental technique put audiences in awe of the hero slow sheathing the Sakabatō and holding his exaggerated, sunk posture is a truly cinematic, nail-biting moment. While, there are certain characters in the ensemble who fall by the wayside, receiving only a short amount of screen time, the film is told with such assuredness of direction that it is easy to forgive those flaws. To say that the film is light in its narrative is to say the franchise of Rurouni Kenshin is light narratively. While that may or may not be true, these adaptations absolutely embrace and own the elements of its source, thus elevating it from feeling as if you're witnessing yet another parable of a hackneyed renegade hero, by uniquely subverting its characters. The Legend Ends is one of the best action films of the last decade, satisfyingly concluding what may possibly be the greatest martial arts trilogy, and contains what is arguably the best sword-based choreography ever committed to film. The finale is far more poetic than the others - philosophical, even - and it's no poorer for it. It doesn't really work as a stand-alone film, though, so it needs to be considered as an extension of its predecessors, and in that context, it's brilliant.