Serdar | Genji Press

The word kagemusha means “double” or “shadow warrior” in Japanese, the name for someone who impersonates a warlord or noble to draw away assassins—but it also refers to the wire-pullers in bunraku or Japanese puppet theater, the ones behind the scenes whom we are never supposed to see. Kagemusha is about both of these things: a) the double, and b) the men behind the throne who believe they can control him and change the fate of their world by doing so. More than that, though, it is about the illusory nature of human society—how a whole world or a way of life can be founded on nothing save a fervent belief.

The warlord is named Shingen (Tatsuya Nakadai), and his own brother, Nobukado, resembles him closely enough that he has doubled for him many times in the past. One day they discover a condemned thief (Nakadai again) who so closely resembles the warlord that even he is taken aback by the resemblance. The thief wants no part of this charade, but Shingen is at war and the more effectively they can distract the enemy the better. After all, it’s not as if he has to do anything other than dress as the man and be seen from a distance by spies. It seems easy enough, and the promise of a pardon for his crimes is hard to dismiss.

I've known people in real life who are like Johnny, played unblinkingly and with frightening power by David Thewlis in Mike Leigh’s Naked. They don't have a fixed address, method of income, bank account, or even a consistent set of clothes. What they do have is a philosophy, an outlook—the one thing they can take with them to the grave, and they are convinced that is exactly where they and everyone else on the besotted planet are headed. Johnny has been stepped on by life—stripped naked, as per the title—and what's left is not something anyone who can wrap themselves snugly in a cozy house and a good-paying job wants to look at. Most of us are a lot close to what Johnny lives through than we want to admit.