Kiyoshi Kurosawa, the internationally acclaimed Japanese filmmaker best known for his atmospheric horror films, is preparing to make a dramatic genre shift. For the first time in his decades-long career, Kurosawa is developing a samurai film—infused with the eerie minimalism and psychological suspense that have defined his legacy.
Kiyoshi Kurosawa Unexpectedly Shifts to the Samurai Genre
The Film’s Vision: Horror in a Feudal Castle
Kurosawa’s Career in Horror and Psychological Suspense
What This Genre Shift Means for Japanese Cinema
During an interview surrounding his recent retrospective at the Japan Cuts film festival in New York, Kurosawa revealed he is seriously considering a samurai film as his next project. While the concept is still in early stages, he described it as something he has long wanted to explore. For years, he avoided historical films due to their technical and budgetary challenges, but he now believes the time and resources may be right.
Known for films that evoke dread through suggestion rather than spectacle, Kurosawa’s foray into jidaigeki—or period samurai cinema—is a surprising but intriguing evolution. Instead of embracing sweeping battlefield choreography or elaborate swordplay, he plans to ground his samurai story in a single, confined location. The film, as he envisions it, will unfold almost entirely inside a castle, where tension builds through claustrophobic interiors, emotional repression, and subtle horror.
Kurosawa’s signature style of slow-building suspense and psychological disquiet will guide the aesthetic and narrative of the film. Rather than rely on violence or flashy set pieces, the story will be stripped down, eerie, and inward-looking. He aims to explore fear not through external threats, but through stillness, silence, and the erosion of emotional control within the confines of castle walls.
He expressed his intention to depict scenes that emphasize anxiety rather than action, using long takes, minimal music, and shadows cast across the tatami-matted halls of a feudal stronghold. While most samurai films focus on the outward expression of honor, battle, and revenge, Kurosawa’s vision appears more focused on what happens when those ideas are suppressed or twisted.
Though the project is still unconfirmed, Kurosawa’s passion for the idea and the way he speaks about it suggest it is more than a passing thought. If realized, this film could mark one of the most original reinterpretations of the samurai genre in decades.
Kiyoshi Kurosawa first rose to international acclaim with his 1997 film Cure, a police thriller laced with hypnotic horror. He followed with Pulse in 2001, a film often credited as a high point in Japanese horror, notable for its melancholy atmosphere and themes of digital alienation. Since then, he has established himself as a master of psychological unease, crafting films that often leave viewers unsettled long after the credits roll.
His approach is grounded in realism, despite frequent forays into the supernatural. Kurosawa is known for creating situations that seem plausible on the surface but are imbued with an invisible menace that creeps up slowly. Even in non-horror titles like Tokyo Sonata and Wife of a Spy, he maintains an emotional intensity that borders on dread.
Throughout his career, he has been resistant to working in historical genres, often citing the burden of authenticity in costumes, language, and set design. However, his recent successes and growing international recognition—most notably winning the Silver Lion at Venice for Wife of a Spy—have opened new doors for experimentation.
If Kiyoshi Kurosawa completes this project, it could signal a new direction not only for his own career but for the broader landscape of Japanese cinema. His blend of existential horror and emotional restraint has never before been applied to the samurai genre, which has traditionally been defined by stoic warriors, kinetic combat, and themes of duty and sacrifice.
A Kurosawa-directed samurai film would likely upend many of these conventions, offering instead a meditation on fear, isolation, and internal collapse. It would explore what happens when swords are sheathed and words left unspoken, allowing tension to fester in locked rooms rather than on open fields.
This move also reflects a broader trend in Japanese filmmaking, where genre lines are increasingly blurred and directors feel freer to cross between commercial and arthouse styles. Kurosawa’s ability to bring psychological depth to even the simplest story could give the samurai genre a haunting new layer.
Kiyoshi Kurosawa has always specialized in what is left unsaid, what is just out of sight, and what lingers in the silence. If he brings that same artistry to a samurai setting, the result could be one of the most original and unsettling historical dramas in recent memory. Whether this film is made next year or further down the line, its potential already casts a long, quiet shadow across the future of Japanese cinema.