‘Shōgun’ Episode 8 Recap: “Abyss of Life”

Yoshii Toranaga. A Minowara from way back, Lord of the Kantō, and a guy whose epic undefeated streak on the battlefield is matched in length only by how far his commitment to a bit will reach. Remember when he snuck out of Osaka dressed in a woman’s kosode and veiled ichimegasa hat? That time, and even though he was the one who got played, Lord Ishido wasn’t even surprised. Crafty, cagey, and always thinking six moves ahead – both his enemies and his allies understand this is just what Toranaga does. It’s part of how he’s survived long enough to become the departed Taiko’s preferred successor, the truest voice for a peaceful transition of power, and the biggest obstacle to rule by Lady Ochiba and the regent council she’s made her puppets. But the threat Lord Toranga now faces in Shōgun Episode 8, to the realm and to his clan, has inspired the most relentless, physically costly version of his famous guile. Becoming the public picture of a defeated man, even to the point of missing the funeral of your own son, but then nonverbally expressing your top secret true intentions to your best friend before watching him disembowel himself for the sake of the bit? That’s commitment, and the kind of honor that inspires dedication. 

We’re gonna miss Lord Toda “Iron Fist” Hiromatsu (and Tokuma Nishioka, whose resonant voice was an unforgettable part of the Shōgun cast). But having stood with Toranaga since he was a teenager winning his first battle, Hiromatsu could comprehend better than anyone the words his lord wasn’t using. Once Ochiba’s ruse with Saeki Nobutatsu played out by sending Toranaga and his people from Ajiro to Edo in a sad, battered column, and seeing how Nagakado’s reckless act and unfortunately cracked skull put time back on his lord’s clock, Hiromatsu understood that they were witnessing the greatest representation of Toranaga’s legendary capacity for strategy.  When Father Martin Alvito surfaced in Edo, angling for a version of political stability that included a piece for the Portuguese Catholics, Hiromatsu saw how Toranaga patronized him just enough to sully the intelligence the priest will share with Osaka. And to further convince the scheming Yabushige and even the increasingly self-interested John Blackthorne – “goshawks,” Toranaga calls his churlish samurai and the Anjin, “short-winged and predictable” – Hiromatsu had to take one for Team Tora by opening his belly with his son Buntaro as his second. His spilled blood will further obscure his lord’s boldest tactical gambit. 

“Until his head is pressed to the floor in submission, we are not free of this threat.” Sure, Lady Ochiba hates Toranaga’s guts. But the two longtime foes also respect each other’s abilities. While Ishido compliments her on orchestrating Saegi’s doublecross, and angles for a marriage match with the mother of the heir, which would solidify his own spot in a new hierarchy – she doesn’t respond to this, but nor does she immediately say no – Ochiba’s personal play for power takes an unexpected hit when a stroke takes the life of Lady Daiyon. The Taiko’s wife knew of Toranaga’s love for Yaechiyo, the heir, and his commitment to the late ruler’s wishes. And before she dies, she urges Ochiba to quit her games with Ishido. “All of your strength, sadness.” If she would more effectively apply herself, the heir and the realm would be more secure. Would Ochiba ever entertain an alliance with Toranaga over Ishido’s saber-rattling? Of her childhood friend, Mariko says that Torananaga might not even be her ultimate motivator. “Each of us endures in her own way. Staying hidden is hers. Fear is her enemy.”

In the same way Toranaga expressed his intentions through nonverbal cues, the ornate and beautiful tea ceremony sequence that centers episode 8 of Shōgun is another finely-rendered example of how the series values patience, unspoken communication, and care for place. (It was also a key scene in James Clavell’s original novel, and portrayed quite elegantly in the 1980 miniseries adaptation.)  When Buntaro makes his formal request to perform the chanoyu ceremony for his wife, Mariko readily accepts, for it is tradition. And for all of his rage and abuse toward her, the ceremony’s formal rigor puts him at peace, and in service to its actions. “The scent of plums detaches from the blossoms and leaves off in the distance,” the veteran samurai speaks in poeticized emotion, and Mariko responds. “My mind is drawn to the distant haze, where the wind carries the detached scent.” But she does not absolve. And she won’t accept his offer of death, either. The serene environment of the tea house will not wash away his cruelties. Buntaro thought it was death he was denying his wife. Nah, bro. “It was a life beyond your reach.” And when Mariko quits the ceremony, he bursts into tears.

Like Hiromatsu, Mariko is one of the only members of Toranaga’s inner circle who understands the complexities of his efforts to avoid war and preserve stability in Japan. For Yabushige, the lord’s intentions only appear in maddening glimpses. (“One of these days, I’d like to know about your plan before it happens,” he yelled at Toranaga during the battle en route to Osaka.) With his nephew Omi, he has tried to find a backdoor alliance, a way out. But with the announcement that his lord will now give into Osaka, Yabushige doesn’t know what to think, and Blackthorne asking for a spot underneath his banner is only more confusing static. “The Anjin is wrong to think Lord Toranaga has given up,” Yabu tells Mariko as she translates the Englishman’s selfish pitch. “I don’t know what the old man’s up to, but it is not surrender.” But aside from his lawful evil status – he boiled an Erasmus crewmember alive in episode one, and tells his servant to record the value of Nagakado’s skull crack death lower than that, but above being eaten by dogs – Yabushige is easily one of the coolest characters in Shōgun. He’s so unlike the norm, and Tadanobu Asano plays him with an irresistible wink in his eye. He’s a “shit-face,” as the Anjin calls him. And he’s vulgar as hell. But Yabushige is one of the realest ones.

Bring the cannon and guns to Osaka! Lord Toranaga has given Yabushige another order. Certainly the latest confounding moment for the samurai to sort out, but the seppuku of Hiromatsu at least proved to Yabu’s eyes that the pivot back to Osaka is occurring in some kind of way, and he doesn’t want to be left behind. He accepts the Anjin as his pilot, and prepares to depart Edo by ship for the capital. “I won’t die on behalf of a crazy old man!” It’s boastful, and typical of the samurai. But the jury is out on its accuracy. And then Mariko arrives on deck. “Lord Toranaga has requested I accompany you to Osaka.” She represents the next part of the plan for Team Tora. A plan for which Toranaga has allowed terrible sacrifices in blood and kin. But he will seize his chance. “Thank you, my son,” the lord says, as he finally visits Nagakado’s funeral pyre. “You earned me some time. I will not waste it. For Hiromatsu and you both, I will not waste it.”

Johnny Loftus (@glennganges) is an independent writer and editor living at large in Chicagoland. His work has appeared in The Village Voice, All Music Guide, Pitchfork Media, and Nicki Swift.