‘Rikyu’ (NR)

Any serious watcher of Japanese films knows that small is beautiful. The minutiae and nuances often mean more than the central story.

"Rikyu" has this approach. On its main level, it's about the relationship between a 16th-century warlord and his servant Rikyu. But the subtext delves into abstracts ranging from the loss of honor to the towering significance of the tea ceremony.

"Rikyu" isn't about tea preparation, per se, but it introduces a world where such an activity is of paramount importance -- especially to Rikyu, a tea master. In permanent service to Lord Hideyoshi, he spends his days, and life, perfecting the ceremony. For him, the preparation is a continual process of self-perfection. He performs it with unusual grace, from his delicate swishing of the tea-mixing brush, to the soft way he swivels the bowl in his hand and then places it before his master.

When Hideyoshi decides to invade Korea and China, Rikyu expresses misgivings. Their close relationship crumbles. Rikyu's life is even in jeopardy. In this world of eternal ritual, the tea master's well-being depends on submitting an apology.

By Western viewing standards, director Hiroshi Teshigahara's work is painstakingly slow. His small-focus intensity is compelling at times; yet just as often, unbearably demanding. There's a subplot involving Portuguese traders and priests but it seems disconnected from the main narrative, even by Japanese standards.

By the end, there's a certain glow of achievement for staying with the movie. While "Rikyu" slows your pulse down to a snail's pace, it also opens your eyes to things you normally wouldn't have patience for.