FX’s Shōgun Is Proof That Adaptations Can Reinvent Characters for the Better

When FX’s Shōgun was announced back in 2018, I was excited yet apprehensive. James Clavell’s novel is a masterwork of historical fiction, yet it is undeniably a product of its time. The main hero feels like a quintessential example of the “white savior complex,” and beyond him, the novel’s Japanese characters feel one-note. Instead of relegating the supporting figures of Clavell’s work to the background of this new series, the show’s creators peel back the pages and weave in their own writings to craft some of the best on-screen characters of the year. When a series like this is made—one directed towards a Western audience—fears regarding the way in which characters of color will not only be treated but represented arise. Evidently, Shōgun was placed in the right hands, with this version of the story allowing viewers access to the inner lives of characters beyond the story’s hero. 

In FX’s Shōgun, John Blackthorne is perhaps one of the series’ least interesting characters, despite being its protagonist. This isn’t to say that Cosmo Jarvis isn’t illuminating when he’s on screen, however, he at times takes a back seat for the people he’s surrounded by, giving these characters and the actors who inhabit them more than a chance to shine. Tadanobu Asano, who plays the cunning Kashigi Yabushige, is given free rein to showcase the brutality—and charisma—of his scene-stealing character, one who is prevalent in the novel and the 1980 miniseries, but here feels different. 

He’s fleshed out more like his contemporaries, less so a hokey villain and instead a man who’s desperation for power consumes him. Each time Asano is on screen, you can’t help but wonder why the Thor films he was a part of underutilized him so severely. And this is the case for many of the on screen talent. Shōgun uses Japanese actors who have been relegated to the background of North American screens for decades, and finally allows them space to craft some of the best performances of the year so far. 

“You don’t know me,” Blackwood says to the pirate Rodrigues (Néstor Carbonell) at the end of Episode 2, to which he replies “I’ve known a thousand of you.” It’s here that it becomes clear that, while Blackthorne may be the central protagonist of this story, he is not the sole narrator. He emulates the hero of stories similar to this kind, but in this reinvention, he is instead one of many heroes. Here, under the care of executive producers Rachel Kondo and Justin Marks, Blackthorne’s existence is used to showcase a turning point for not only feudal Japan, but for the lives of the characters around him. In having him not be the sole viewpoint audiences see this story through, the world of Shōgun and its characters becomes even more complex. 

When it comes to this new series, there’s one character who has been almost completely reinvented, turning her into one of the best written women in recent television. In Clavell’s novel and its first adaptation, Lady Toda Mariko (Anna Sawai) exists almost strictly as a love interest for Blackthorne, devoid not necessarily of motivations, but reasonings for these motivations. Like the previous two renditions, she and Blackthorne are introduced when Lord Toranaga (Hiroyuki Sanada) calls on her to become the man’s translator, as she is one of the few Japanese characters fluent in Portugese (which the English dialogue is a stand-in for). 

FX’s version of Mariko doesn’t strictly involve Blackthorne nor the other men she’s surrounded by. Instead, her arc is driven by figuring out her purpose in a male-dominated society that would prefer to let her sit on the sidelines. While the series could have made Mariko a warrior-like character that fights battles beside her male counterparts, she instead uses her wit and knowledge about religion and languages to further cement herself as a valuable member of Lord Toranaga’s advisory. Rather than being underestimated by her counterparts, her strength comes directly from her difference, and she subsequently wields it like a weapon.

Along with her expanded role, her romance with Blackthorne transforms from a superficial relationship into something more. In Episode 4, the two begin to bond beyond discussing linguistics, and it’s here that they clearly become infatuated with each other. Jarvis and Sawai play it subtly, having the two characters use fleeting glances and touches to allow the relationship to unfold rather than words. It’s in the quiet moments with Mariko that Blackthorne in turn becomes more interesting, his heart opening up to not only her, but to the audience as well. It’s here that he truly feels like a protagonist worthy of our eyes, more complicated and compelling than he was originally presented to be.  

As the series unfolds, it feels like Mariko’s desires are never truly known to us—or Blackthorne—which makes her character all the more interesting. Each time they’re on screen together, you can’t help but wonder who really holds the power in their relationship. Each of them would believe it’s the other, and it’s clear that there isn’t really an answer, despite the gendered differences. When tensions begin to grow as their closeness becomes apparent to those around them, Mariko tells Blackthorne that from now on, “the only words [they] share will be from other’s lips.” Even the way they speak together feels romantic because of the sprawling language Kondo and Marks choose to use, reinventing Clavell’s work and allowing this relationship to actually feel like there are two parties present within it. 

Unlike the previous renditions of their characters, Mariko and her peers are fleshed out into not only completely different people, but perhaps the show’s most interesting ones. In FX’s Shōgun, the Japanese characters aren’t strictly relegated to support Jarvis’ Blackthorne, but instead they are given as much screen time as the protagonist himself.

In the previous miniseries, every Japanese character spoke Japanese, but like Blackthorne, American viewers were only allowed to understand what these characters were saying when Mariko herself was acting as a translator. The viewer was ultimately forced to meld themselves to Blackthorne, subsequently seeing themselves as an extension of him. However, Shōgun’s 2024 update utilizes subtitles as well as translation through Mariko, allowing characters who were never truly given a voice to become central figures in the story this version is trying to tell.

It is evident that care was adamantly taken to include the Japanese characters’ perspectives, which has ensured a level of cultural and historical authenticity that its previous renditions were severely lacking. The context of the world each character in Shōgun finds themselves in is glaringly different depending on the character who is on screen. Thankfully, the creators understand this, and expertly allow these players to become central figures who not only influence the story at hand, but directly transform it into an adaptation that surpasses its original material. 

Kaiya Shunyata is a freelance pop culture writer and academic based in Toronto. They have written for Rogerebert.com, Xtra, The Daily Dot, and more. You can follow them on Twitter, where they gab about film, queer subtext, and television.

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