Lone Wolf and Cub (1972–1974) – Review

If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if a stoic, sword-slinging samurai hit the road with a baby who’s as tough as his dad, look no further than the Lone Wolf and Cub movies. These legendary Japanese films from the 1970s are a blood-soaked, tear-jerking, adrenaline-pumping ride through feudal Japan.

The Lone Wolf and Cub movie series, based on the manga of the same name by Kazuo Koike and Goseki Kojima, is a landmark in Japanese cinema, merging the austere beauty of samurai traditions with a visceral, action-packed storytelling style. Released in the early 1970s, the series of six films directed primarily by Kenji Misumi explores themes of honour, vengeance, and the bond between parent and child, all set against the violent backdrop of feudal Japan.

A backdrop as beautiful as it is violent.

The franchise kicks off with Lone Wolf and Cub: Sword of Vengeance, the first in a six-part series that weaves blood-soaked poetry with existential philosophy. It introduces us to Ogami Ittō (Tomisaburo Wakayama), the former executioner for the shogunate who is framed by the Yagyū clan, leading to the slaughter of his wife and the dismantling of his honourable position. Left with nothing but his infant son, Daigorō (Akihiro Tomikawa), Ittō embarks on the “Demon Way in Hell”, offering his services as an assassin while plotting vengeance against those who wronged him.  The key villain of the series is the leader of the “Shadow” of the Yagyū clan, Retsudo (Yūnosuke Itō), who brings villainy to a whole new level.

“Be honest, is the eye-patch a bit much?”

The father-son relationship at the heart of the series is as tender as it is unconventional. Ogami’s stoic demeanour contrasts sharply with Daigoro’s innocence, yet their bond remains unshakable. The sight of the toddler travelling in a booby-trapped baby cart, armed with hidden weapons, encapsulates the series’ unique blend of pathos and brutality. Tomisaburo Wakayama delivers an iconic performance as Ogami Ittō. He captures both the stoic resolve of a seasoned killer and the underlying humanity of a father burdened by tragedy. Wakayama’s physicality, combined with his intense yet subtle expressions, makes Ittō an unforgettable character.

“I’m up for Dad of the Year six years running.”

Meanwhile, little Akihiro Tomikawa as Daigoro. steals the show with his unflappable demeanour. This kid doesn’t cry when surrounded by assassins or splattered in arterial spray—he just sits there, stoic and judgmental, like he knows you’d lose in a sword fight. His quiet presence is both endearing and unsettling as if he’s fully aware he’s living in a nonstop grindhouse flick adds a surprising depth, embodying innocence amidst chaos with remarkable poise.

He’s also handy in a tight spot.

Stray Observations:

• This is the kind of world where we must assume the human body is highly pressurized due to the force of spurting blood we see in this movie.
• To test if Ogami is a great swordsman, they send their own men to attack him; of course, this results in their death. Being a vassal in feudal Japan must have sucked.
• Ogami is the ultimate anti-hero; murder and rape abound around him, but whether he gets involved is anyone’s guess.
• The world of Lone Wolf and Cub is fairly heightened, but in the last entry, we get “undead” warriors coming after Ogami.
• This is a series that dares to ask, “Why shouldn’t a baby cart double as a weapon of mass destruction?”

James Bond dreams of having a ride this badass.

The fight choreography is a standout element. Ittō’s use of the dotanuki sword and the ingenious weaponized baby cart turns every battle into a spectacle of creativity and carnage. The film doesn’t shy away from violence—limbs are severed, blood spurts like fountains, and death is swift. Yet the violence feels poetic, a grim dance that serves the narrative rather than existing for shock value. The films are renowned for their visual storytelling, which blends traditional Japanese aesthetics with modern cinematic techniques. Director Kenji Misumi, who helmed four of the six films, brought an operatic sensibility to the series, using long takes, sweeping landscapes, and meticulous choreography to create a visually arresting experience. The films’ use of bloodshed as a visual motif—exaggerated sprays of crimson against serene backdrops—became iconic, influencing everything from Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill to modern action films.

“Anyone have a mop handy?”

This franchise is most known for its groundbreaking action and choreography, as the action sequences in Lone Wolf and Cub set a new standard for samurai films. Choreographed with precision and filmed with an unflinching lens, the battles showcase Ogami’s mastery of the sword, often pitting him against dozens of adversaries. The innovative use of the baby cart, which doubles as a weapon-laden fortress, adds a layer of ingenuity to the fight scenes, blending strategy with raw power. But beneath the action, the series explores profound themes. At its core, Lone Wolf and Cub is a meditation on loyalty, revenge, and the moral complexities of the samurai code. Ogami’s journey raises questions about the price of vengeance and the ways in which personal honour can clash with societal expectations. These themes resonate universally, giving the series a timeless appeal.

These sequences are not mere displays of violence but are imbued with dramatic weight. Each fight is a test of Ogami’s resolve and a step closer to his ultimate goal. The choreography, combined with Tomisaburo Wakayama’s commanding performance as Ogami, creates a visceral sense of tension and release that keeps audiences riveted. The influence of Lone Wolf and Cub can be seen in countless works, from graphic novels like Frank Miller’s Ronin to films like The Mandalorian, which borrows heavily from the series’ lone warrior and child dynamic.

In conclusion, the Lone Wolf and Cub movie series stands as a towering achievement in the world of samurai cinema. Its combination of stunning visuals, compelling characters, and philosophical depth has secured its place as a classic of the genre. More than just action-packed spectacles, these films are profound explorations of human resilience, the cost of vengeance, and the unbreakable bond between parent and child. Decades after their release, they remain a testament to the enduring power of great storytelling and their ability to transcend cultural boundaries, captivating audiences around the world.