“Revenge is a dish best served cold” – a cliched adage, but one that literature has held closely for centuries. The idea of wreaking havoc on the lives of those that previously wronged you has always been a ripe topic for many artists, and cinema, in particular, has always been facilitative to the revenge storyline. One of the greatest ever made is Lady Snowblood (Japanese: 修羅雪姫 or Shurayuki-hime), Toyisha Fujita’s masterful action epic that sees our protagonist – a woman as deadly as she is young – going on a tour of revenge for an event that happened to her family before she was even born. Lady Snowblood is an extraordinary film and one that has influenced many other subsequent films focused on revenge (such as Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill films, or Park Chan-wook’s iconic Oldboy trilogy) while being a towering action masterpiece in its own right. Fast-paced, exhaustingly thrilling and brilliantly-constructed, Lady Snowblood is far more than just the archetypal Asian action film – it is an elegant and beautifully-made work of art, one that is relentless in its message and its execution – no pun intended – resulting in an unforgettable dosage of unhinged, exhilarating entertainment that is not without emotional gravitas.

Lady Snowblood is focused on Yuki Kashima (Meiko Kaji), a young woman who does not draw much attention, not especially considering her profession. Beneath her youthful, almost doll-like appearance beats the heart of a ferocious assassin, a classically-trained killer who is skilled beyond the capabilities of the majority of her adversaries. Her murders are always for some greater cause, whether it be the slaughter of a vicious gang leader who terrorizes innocent people or some criminal figure who was responsible for the hardships of others, there is some reason behind Yuki, also known as Lady Snowblood, and her rampage of terror. Her specific mission is simple – before she was born, her mother, along with her husband and son, was brutally attacked by a quartet of violent individuals, who mistook him for someone else. The husband and son were murdered, while she was raped for days before being taken away, having gotten her revenge on one of the culprits. She was swiftly arrested, but made it a priority to seduce every man she could in the hopes that she may bear a child – she will spend the rest of her days in prison, but her child would hopefully grow up and avenge the crimes of the past, which Yuki does, after being adopted and trained by The Master, a wise old man with almost otherworldly skills in combative arts, who finds a willing young student in Yuki, who will go to any lengths to get revenge on those who tore her family apart years before. Lady Snowblood, now a well-trained adult, sets out to inflict the same pain and heartbreak on the people who caused her and her family decades of despair, deciding to not take any prisoners along the way.

The effectiveness of Lady Snowblood comes in the form of its unique simplicity – this is a classic revenge tale, but one that is far from being predictable. We are presented with a heroine who is relatively silent but most certainly deadly, and as the film progresses, we start to learn more about her past, and her motivations for becoming the notorious killer that she does. Like any traditional revenge tale, our complex hero is someone with a storied history that leads her to that present moment, as she has a list of targets, and slowly starts to eliminate them, one by one. Lady Snowblood is not nearly as direct as it would appear, and there are the expected twists and turns, but for the most part, the film isn’t weighed down in the least by unnecessary diversions, and while the plot does progress further than simply being the trials and tribulations of a woman who holds a sword in her hands and hatred in her heart, it does keep everything quite simple, creating a coherent story with the right blend of narrative complexity and aesthetic beauty to qualify it as one of the finest revenge films of its kind, and proof that Asian cinema is a facilitator for some truly incredible stories, and filmmaking that pushes the boundaries of what can be visually and narratively represented, never flinching from the profoundly philosophical core imbued in the story. There is an unexpected morality pulsating throughout Lady Snowblood, which allows it to have a certain emotional gravitas that pushes it beyond simply being a mindless action film, but a complex and fascinating character study of a young woman with a particularly set of deadly skills going on a mission of revenge, but not without a good amount of introspection along the way.

Meiko Kaji is terrific in the titular role, and we find ourselves growing extremely attached to her performance, with her ability to extract sympathy from the audience being quite incredible to behold. The characterization of her as a vicious killer is remarkable – we are never made to feel guilty for hoping she succeeds, because other than the fact that her killings have very clear motivations (rather than being arbitrary attacks of random psychopathy), she is clearly sorrowful about the fact that this is the way of revenge – but it is necessary, and while ending life is not something one should relish or feel the need to resort to, in the case of her wrongdoers, it becomes clear that violence is the only language these kinds of people tend to understand. Kaji is excellent – her performance is simple and evocative, and her beautiful delicacy in the more tranquil moments is juxtaposed brilliantly with her assertive might in the most violent of scenes, which gives her performance a certain nuanced brilliance, and one that is wholly unforgettable and entirely fascinating to watch. Lady Snowblood is understandably mainly focused on our heroine, so every other performance, as good as they may be, are pushed to the wayside for the sake of the central portrayal. The film belongs entirely to Kaji, who really impressed me with her fascinating subtletly and impressive work, both in terms of the emotional and physical aspects of the character.

The most striking aspect of Lady Snowblood, more than the intricate tale of revenge and the way it was executed with such narrative brilliance, was the visual aesthetic, which is a quality of the film that has made it an enduring classic of Asian cinema. Fujita and cinematographer Masaki Tamura, along with the production design team and everyone else involved with the creative aspects of the film, did extraordinarily well in replicating Victorian-era Japan, when the nation was in the tumultuous socio-political era on the edge of the turn of the century. Everything about this film, particularly visually, is extremely striking – the blood is bright and abundant (almost comically so – Lady Snowblood is one of the most violent films I have ever seen, or at least the most violent film that doesn’t cross the limit of moral decency), and the scenery is astonishingly beautiful – the Japanese antiquity is so beautifully portrayed – and we are given the opportunity to see our heroine execute her mission everywhere, from tranquil countryside covered in beautiful white snow which is soon tainted with the blood of her adversaries (which lends the film its title), to the endless forests of Japan, from poor villages to wealthy estates – and it is all so gorgeously represented in the film that is as visually alluring as it is narratively captivating. If for nothing more, Lady Snowblood is worthwhile for its astonishing beauty, which defines this as one of the most stunning action films of its era. All too often, these kinds of films are preoccupied with gritty visuals that don’t look at the beguiling nature of violence (which should remain exclusively in the realm of the fictional), a fact that Lady Snowblood makes very clear – there’s no reason why a film like Lady Snowblood, which concerns itself entirely with death and revenge, can’t be utterly ravishing as well when it comes to its aesthetic.

Lady Snowblood is a tremendous film – delicate and alluring, brutal and harrowing, this is a film that sets the standard for revenge films, and has certainly gone on to influence the work of several other filmmakers who have taken this winning combination of narrative complexity and visual beauty, bringing them into their own memorable revenge films. However, none of them manages to reach the celestial heights that this film does, and considering this was made on a very small budget only increases how utterly impressive everything about this film is. It is a wonderful achievement, a daring and bold revenge thriller that never resorts to inauthentic means to create an unnecessarily complex or meaninglessly empty action film. This is the kind of film that reminds me about the childhood wonder I had for cinema, and it is a truly extraordinary work, a soaring piece of unforgettable cinema that leaves an indelible impression on the mind of the viewer, and is relentless in how entirely unforgettable it is.