“Crimson Sky” is now streaming on Hulu. It will premiere on FX tonight at 10 p.m. ET.
From the first episode, Shōgun has warned us it would break our hearts. The series takes place in a beautiful but cruel world. The premiere featured a scene of a man being boiled alive and Fuji, who’d soon emerge as one of the story’s most complex and sympathetic characters, losing her husband and infant out of the need to satisfy a complex and unyielding code of honor. Anna Sawai’s performance as Mariko has offered ample warning, too. Her eyes have always suggested what she tries to keep hidden behind the eightfold fence. They’ve just as often indicated she knows she’ll never get what she truly wants, or at least won’t possess it very long. Each episode of Shōgun has incorporated much of the ensemble — though Toranaga is notably absent here — but from beginning to end, this is Mariko’s episode. It’s also the best of the series so far.
“Crimson Sky” — a title that suggests an episode dominated by a different sort of action — opens with a stark, snowy flashback to 14 years earlier, when a pregnant Mariko led the existence of a living ghost, hoping for death, but finding solace in the words of Father Martin and the faith he practices. God, he tells her, has saved her for a purpose. He can’t have known then how those words would resonate in the present, when she believes she’s found that purpose in what she expects to be a final mission on Toranaga’s behalf. Her hand shakes as she holds the cross she’ll wear to the end.
Back in the present, she remains as cool and focused as ever as she refuses to tell Blackthorne why she’s traveling with him on Yabushige’s ship to Osaka, saying only that it has nothing to do with him. Not that she’s unwilling to help translate as he speaks to his new boss, Yabushige, who does not welcome what awaits him when he disembarks. “I hate this fucking city,” he says while looking at the Osaka skyline. He has no idea just how much what’s about to happen will deepen that hate.
Osaka is not a happy place. Like Kiri, Shizu, and Toranaga’s new son, members of other noble families live there as “guests” who can’t leave, though they’re not technically prisoners. The fig leaf of formality allows Ishido to claim he’s not holding them hostage as leverage over those who might oppose him. It’s a fig leaf waiting for the right person to rip it away.
But first, Yabushige and Blackthorne have to make their attempt to resolve the situation, as ordered by Toranaga. Toranaga’s apparent surrender rings false to some, including some of the Portuguese priests, but neither Yabushige nor Blackthorne are party to any plans within plans. If they’re pawns, they’re unwitting pawns, as they approach Ishido in earnest to present him with a proposition. He’s willing to listen, but only after first chastising Yabushige for past betrayals, which Yabushige’s willing to pay for with his head, as long as his idea gets a proper airing: What if he gives Blackthorne to Ishido as a gift? He’s a pretty good sailor, and he’s “well trained.” This does not go well (even though Blackthorne bows as properly as he can).
Then it’s time for Mariko to speak, and what she says will reverberate through the rest of the episode (and, undoubtedly, next week’s finale). Before getting to the heart of the matter, Mariko engages in some strained small talk with Ishido, whom she informs that Toranaga is still mourning the death of his son. Ishido’s response — “He has others” — almost makes her abandon her peaceful pose. She then talks to Ochiba, her childhood friend and Ishido’s new fiancée. Ochiba recalls their time as girls and the poetry competitions in which they’d both participate, then tells her that there will be a poetry competition in Daiyoin’s memory. Would she choose the first line? Mariko doesn’t hesitate: “While the snow remains veiled in the haze of cold evening, a leafless branch.”
Does this have any meaning for the moment at hand? It seems like it might. Mariko then segues into the reason she’s there. It’s a simple request, really: She would like to leave Osaka and Ishido’s court, taking Kiri and Shizu with her to meet their Lord, Toranaga. Tomorrow. Sure, Toranaga will be there soon, but nonetheless, she’ll be going, thank you very much. And there’s no reason that should be a problem for anyone unless Ishido is saying she’s not allowed to leave.
This does not go over well. Skirting responsibility, Ishido hands it over to his Regents. Kiyama at least backs him up, but though Mariko at first seems to comply with her host’s request, she insists she must be going. Furthermore, she doesn’t like Ishido’s tone of voice. She’s a samurai from a great and old family (unlike Ishido, it goes without saying). And while she’s at it, she’d like to add that her father was a great samurai too, whatever his reputation. After she’s told to await a meeting of the Regents, she exits. But this is not over.
Yabushige isn’t happy. He’s also not stupid, sensing that her actions might be part of Toranaga’s larger plan. (Also, he’s not crazy about her poetry.) Blackthorne is confused. When she tells him she’ll be leaving in the morning, he counters that the armed guards might have something to say about that. Then Mariko comes as close as she’ll come to telling him the plan, and he gets it, saying, “You’d walk into a sword just to prove the blade is sharp.” She asks only one thing of him: Stay out of it.
The chorus of disapproval continues with a visit from Mariko’s teenage son Ryûji (Yuua Yamanaka). That Kiyama has promised him he’ll be betrothed to Kiyama’s granddaughter certainly influences his opinion. This is news to Mariko, who tells him in no uncertain terms that he’ll marry whoever Toranaga tells him to marry. Like any other teenager, he finds his mom embarrassing, but on a much grander scale. Tired of hearing about his family’s soiled history, he tells her she risks losing him as a son.
All of this must be weighing on Mariko as she attempts to leave with her party the next day, but she remains resolute, walking steadily toward the gate before an audience that includes the Regents, Blackthorne, and Yabushige. She’s refused permission to leave. Waves of violence follow, each staged with brutal elegance as Mariko’s retinue thins, ultimately leaving her to face Ishido’s forces alone. She doesn’t prevail, but not without putting up a fight. After she admits defeat, she vows to take her own life in shame that evening.
Mariko’s faith complicates matters. As a samurai, she sees this as an obligation. As a Christian, she views it as a mortal sin. Kiyama agrees to her request to serve as her second out of obligation to their shared faith, while his fellow Christian Regent, Ohno, sees it as a bluff. But Ochiba recognizes another possibility: This is Mariko’s vengeance. She may die, but not without disgracing Ishido and those around him and inciting revolt in the process.
As this plays out, the Anjin reports for an audience with the young heir, which is really just a cover for the conversation Ochiba wants to have with him. But that’s also a cover, because she actually wants to speak with Mariko, who arrives ostensibly to serve as translator. What Ochiba really wants to do is remind Mariko of the childhood friendship they shared and, in her own way, attempt to talk her out of taking her own life. It’s possible to read this concern as another ruse, but the expression on Ochiba’s face as she looks away suggests otherwise. As they leave, Blackthorne makes one last plea: Live for him. Mariko offers no response, at least not with words.
As the ceremony approaches, Mariko makes a last confession while those around her consider their options. Perhaps because he doesn’t agree with Mariko’s gambit or perhaps because it’s just in his nature to scheme and betray others to serve his interests, Yabushige agrees to help Ishido for some purpose that will become clear only later. Blackthorne acts out by slashing a flaw into a karesansui garden.
Then, when the moment arrives, just as Blackthorne steps up to fill in for the absent Kiyama as Mariko’s second, Ishido arrives with a reprieve. Mariko will be allowed to leave. And as soon as she receives permission, all the other “guests” of Ishido inform him they’ll be leaving too. Although Ishido hates this, there’s little he can do about it. It’s a happy ending to a dramatic day. But then the evening comes, and though Mariko spends it with Blackthorne, it will not be a peaceful night. After committing murder to avoid being found out, Yabushige opens the gate for a swarm of shinobi who invade the Toranaga clan’s quarters.
Blackthorne and the others (including Yabushige, sort of) do their best to fend them off, but they’re, well, shinobi. This is what they do. They’ll blast open the door if they have to. Mariko knows this and, rather than be taken alive, stands against the door and makes a last protest against Ishido. And, with that literally explosive moment, the episode ends. Remember, Shōgun warned us from the start it would break our hearts.
Feudal Gestures
• In some ways, the entire series has been building toward this episode, at least for Mariko. She’s a character of contradictions and conflicting loyalties, a woman who’s lived with shame for most of her life in a society where honor is everything. She wants to be a loyal wife, though she hates her husband, but she’s drawn irresistibly to Blackthorne. She’s a samurai and a Christian. Her death resolves those contradictions, but this makes it no less a tragedy.
• Shōgun has gracefully eased viewers into the world of Japan in 1600, but there are some elements too detailed to explain in full. Clavell’s novel contains a lot of information about shinobi, a.k.a. ninjas, underground figures with long traditions of their own.
• Though Mariko is the focus, this is also a pivotal episode for Yabushige. Yabushige is an extremely charismatic figure — the show’s official podcast aptly likens him to a rock star — but he’s never been a trustworthy one. It’s another case of the series telling us what to expect early on. Here’s a deceitful, sadistic character. Can we be surprised when he turns on his allies out of self-interest? And yet even Yabushige seems not to anticipate the consequences of the favor he performs for Ishido.
• One of the episode’s few light moments involves Blackthorne and Yabushige pretending to understand each other better than they do. But there’s some dark foreshadowing here too. Mariko could translate in more detail but doesn’t bother, as if she already knows what they’re saying to each other won’t matter.
• It’s a strong episode for wordless acting, too, as others react to Mariko’s choices. Watch Ochiba as Mariko talks and Blackthorne and Ryûji as she fights.
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