‘Shōgun’ Gives a Classic TV Miniseries a ‘Game of Thrones’-Level Makeover

James Clavell’s historical epic novel Shōgun was first adapted for television back in 1980. It starred Richard Chamberlain as John Blackthorne, an English sailor who gets caught up in a Japanese civil war in the early 1600s, and Japanese cinema legend Toshirô Mifune as Toranaga, a feudal lord at odds with the rest of his country’s ruling class. This NBC version did not feature subtitles, so the Japanese dialogue was only translated in scenes where bilingual characters were interpreting for Blackthorne. The producers defended this as a creative choice, because they felt the story was meant to be shown from Blackthorne’s perspective. It’s an incredibly myopic, parochial take on a book that went out of its way to understand and give full dimension to its many non-white characters, whereas the Chamberlain miniseries treated them all as exotic supporting players in Blackthorne’s story. 

The new FX adaptation knows better. The majority of the dialogue is in subtitled Japanese. And at minimum, it treats Blackthorne (played here by Cosmo Jarvis) and Toranaga (Hiroyuki Sanada) as narrative equals. And by the end, Toranaga has the better argument for being the central character. 

Adapted by Rachel Kondo and Justin Marks, this new Shōgun digs deep into the culture of the period, and the many complicated ways it has shaped Toranaga, Blackthorne’s translator Mariko (Anna Sawai); Mariko’s cruel husband Buntaro (Shinnosuke Abe); and everyone else we meet along the way. It is beautiful to look at, operates on a scale much closer to Game of Thrones than to anything FX has done in the past with shows like The Americans or The Bear, and functions well as both ripping yarn and sociological text. 

The story still begins from Blackthorne’s point of view, as his damaged ship winds up in a port controlled by Toranaga. He and his crewmates have come to plunder a land populated by, as he puts it, “a savage horde,” and he is startled to learn that the Japanese instead consider him to be a disgusting barbarian. In time, he comes to recognize the many ways that life in Japan is superior to the world he left behind, like regular bathing or medical care that doesn’t involve leeches. But he also learns that the nationwide dedication to honor at all costs cuts both ways, inspiring great deeds of heroism and sacrifice, but also baffling, at times monstrous, behavior where people feel compelled to commit the ritual suicide of seppuku for seemingly minor offenses. Mariko warns John not to be fooled by everyone’s polite demeanor, and he slowly recognizes that her own life is a constant struggle due to questions of honor and a woman’s role in society. 

The cast is wonderful. Sanada’s charisma and intense stillness makes it wholly believable that Toranaga is both an inspiring leader of men and a brilliant strategist who is always five moves ahead of his many enemies. Anna Sawai speaks volumes with every pained look on Mariko’s face. As duplicitous warrior Yabushige, Tadanobu Asano entertainingly channels the young, Seven Samurai-era Mifune. Cosmo Jarvis’ performance is deliberately bigger, and at times broader, but that only underlines how alien he is in this beautiful place. (The more he comes to know and respect this strange new world, the more modulated the actor’s work becomes.) 

The Clavell book has epic sweep, which the show works very hard to recreate. There are stunning, massive set pieces, like an earthquake that wrecks one of the armies at an inopportune moment. We also get the star-crossed love story between Mariko and John, complicated feuds between the various Japanese lords and vassals, interference from Catholic missionaries from Portugal, and more. The series occasionally loses its grip on some threads (the Portuguese characters disappear from the narrative for long stretches), but on the whole does a beautiful job of translating this huge story to the screen. It even succeeds at making Mariko’s gift for freestyle poetry seem as potent a weapon as the cannons John has brought from Europe. 

Mariko has converted to Catholicism, and at times is uncomfortable hearing the Protestant Blackthorne curse out the representatives of her faith. Toranaga, who needs her to stay close to this unlikely ally, asks if her loyalty to God would be in conflict with her service to him. Mariko replies that this would be an issue if she were just a Christian: “But I have more than one heart.” This Shōgun has many hearts and many points of view, rather than fixating on the simplistic stranger in a strange land story from the Eighties. It’s terrific. 

The first two episodes of Shōgun are streaming now on Hulu, with additional episodes releasing weekly. I’ve seen all 10 episodes.