FX’s Shōgun Is an Epic, Ambitious Reminder of Everything That’s Great About TV

As the television landscape seemingly contracts all around us and our pop culture seems interested in little beyond endless procedurals and remakes of preexisting IP, FX’s Shōgun often feels like something from another time. A lavish, ambitious adaptation of James Clavell’s popular novel of the same name, it’s a series that takes big swings, demands much of its audience, and insists that complex character dynamics are every bit as compelling as sweeping, bloody battles. Though it has its flaws, the show is both a genuine spectacle and genuinely spectacular, and if there’s any justice, it should be one of the biggest hits of the year. 

Set during a time of political upheaval when Japan’s powerful Taiko has died and left behind a child who isn’t yet old enough to rule, Shōgun follows the story of five warring clans who seek to control the country. Though a Council of Regents has been established to ostensibly hold power until the heir comes of age, competing factions—led by aging war hero ​​Lord Yoshii Toranaga (the great Hiroyuki Sanada), former right hand to the Taiko, and the scheming Lord Ishido (Takehiro Hira), who has plans of his own—are already on the brink of shattering the tenuous peace. Threatened with impeachment, removal from his position, and almost certain death, Toranaga must scramble to both stay alive and hold Japan together. 

He gets an unexpected bit of help from the arrival of a mysterious ship carrying a mere dozen surviving British Protestants. Once part of a Dutch fleet, its crew has been winnowed down by starvation and disease, but Toranaga sees an opportunity in both the ship and its leader, the pilot named John Blackthorne (Cosmo Jarvis). Blackthorne, eager to tell the Japanese of the perfidy of their established Catholic trading partners and introduce their trade routes to the wider world, becomes at first an unwilling and then an invaluable element of Toranaga’s plans as their fates become increasingly intertwined. 

With the help of Toda Mariko (Anna Sawai), a Catholic convert who learned to speak Portuguese from the priests who taught her religion and who serves as a translator for Blackthorne, Toranaga learns not only of the muskets and cannon available aboard the stranger’s ship but many of the secrets the Portuguese have been keeping, of a sort that goes well beyond economic interests and which have the potential to damage the power of their proxies on the ruling council. What follows is a sweeping story of ambition and war, betrayal and ever-shifting alliances. As the council attempts to find a way to rid themselves of Toranaga and the former war leader works to keep himself, his clan, and the vision of the realm he believed in alive, there are plenty of bloody twists, painful sacrifices, and complicated mind games along the way. 

Blackthorne, renamed Anjin (Japanese for “pilot”), struggles to understand the alien culture he has suddenly found himself in, with its dedication to honor and propensity for ritual violence. (His insistence that surely he’ll be understood if only he shouts louder is so quintessentially British it hurts.)  But Shōgun smartly eschews any hint of a white savior narrative, embracing and elevating Japanese culture and erasing much of the “othering” that is so prevalent in the original miniseries. Here, characters predominantly speak Japanese, with subtitles, drawing the audience into every conversation, providing backstories, and allowing us to see the lives and relationships of its characters play out for ourselves. One of the best things about Shōgun is how interested it is in the act of translation and the power language holds: the audience is not only allowed to hear conversations happening in front of Blackthorne that he does not understand but shown the truth of the language that is changed or avoided in the process of passing it on to him. (Even Blackthorne and Mariko’s conversations take place in Portuguese, though we as the audience hear them as English. It’s not as confusing as it sounds, I promise.)

To be fair, Shōgun isn’t perfect. Its sprawling cast of characters and complex political relationships can occasionally feel overwhelming and the show is perfectly happy to dump viewers in the deep end from the first scene. Unfortunately, Blackthorne is a, well, let’s just call it a less-than-ideal audience entry point into this complex feudal world, given that he is also the show’s weakest and least interesting character. (Yes, we get it, to the Japanese, he’s dirty and has horrible taste in food.) The romance that blossoms between Blackthorne and Mariko often feels clumsy and rushed—particularly when it’s such a focus in both the original miniseries and the 1975 novel. But it’s hard to complain but so much, when it’s replaced by such rich and detailed cultural history and so many supporting characters and relationships are given the chance to shine in its place. 

Each element of Shōgun’s world, from its gorgeous costumes to the detailed rituals it frequently depicts his treated with meticulous care and obvious respect. The breathtaking landscapes and bloody battle sequences are undoubtedly some of the best you’ll see on television this year, and its international cast is truly next level, led by Sanada’s magnetic and quietly emotional performance at its center. Almost every supporting character is given remarkable agency and depth, but it is the story’s women who quietly emerge as Shōgun’s unexpectedly compelling heart. Sawai is quietly, devastatingly furious as Mariko, but her translator is just one of several remarkable female characters this tale brings to life, including a heartbroken young mother who loses her family to seppuku after a public disgrace (Moeka Hoshi’s Fuji), an ambitious sex worker (Yuka Kouri’s Kiku), and the calculating mother of the Taiko’s heir (Fumi Nikaido’s Lady Ochiba), who provides a mid-season shot of adrenaline with her arrival in Osaka. It is a necessary reminder that, in this world,  there are many different kinds of strength, and not all power is wielded at the end of a sword.

The 10-episode series (eight of which were available for review) is a genuinely remarkable achievement, the sort of epic, sweeping saga many might have wondered if television as a medium was still capable of creating. A bold, ambitious update of a classic that finds genuine humanity in its tangled, sprawling tale of politics and betrayal, Shōgun certainly aims high—and more than hits its target. 

Shōgun premieres February 27th on FX and streaming on Hulu. 

Lacy Baugher Milas is the Books Editor at Paste Magazine, but loves nerding out about all sorts of pop culture. You can find her on Twitter @LacyMB.

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