Hiroyuki Sanada Was a Stealth Movie MVP For Two-Plus Decades Before Winning the Emmy for ‘Shogun’

Where to Stream:

Shogun

Powered by Reelgood

If you’re up on your recent prestige TV, or 1990s Japanese cinema, you’re probably familiar with Hiroyuki Sanada, who won a Best Actor in a Drama Series Emmy last night for his role on the acclaimed FX adaptation of Shōgun; he was also on a few episodes of Westworld, and did a run on the final season of Lost. But Sanada is also a That Guy extraordinaire, having worked as a character actor in English-language cinema for two decades. Herewith, a guide to his most notable films and performances – at least some of which you’ve probably already encountered at some point.

Like Ken Watanabe, Sanada was introduced to American audiences via Tom Cruise; he has a supporting part in The Last Samurai as a warrior who is initially hostile toward Nathan Algren (Cruise), the American Civil War veteran who winds up joining the samurai of a Japanese village, but eventually trains him in swordplay. (Naturally, the mentor figure dies in battle, while the Cruising American lives to fight another day.) It’s his follow-up role, four years later, that feels more genuinely international: In Danny Boyle’s terrific and underseen Sunshine, Sanada plays Captain Kaneda, in charge of a space vessel on a mission to restart the dying sun, and therefore save humanity. Though Michelle Yeoh was already world-famous when Sunshine was released, the rest of its cast, like Sanada, was less familiar to U.S. audiences: A pre-Oscar (and pre-Scarecrow) Cillian Murphy, a pre-Marvel Chris Evans, and a pre-comedy Rose Byrne also have major roles. Bigger parts, in fact, than Sanada, but the great thing about Sunshine is that while Murphy is basically the lead, its entire ensemble really does feel crucial and well-drawn, with their own sets of conflicts. It’s an uncommonly thoughtful sci-fi adventure that also delivers plenty of visually arresting thrills; Sanada’s, ah, exit from the movie is memorable.

SUNSHINE, Chris Evans, Hiroyuki Sanada, Cliff Curtis, Michelle Yeoh, Benedict Wong, Rose Byrne, Cill
The primary cast of Sunshine (from L to R): Chris Evans, Hiroyuki Sanada, Cliff Curtis, Michelle Yeoh, Benedict Wong, Rose Byrne, Cillian Murphy Photo: Everett Collection

Sanada had a real streak of appearing in visually grabby flops, in fact; less than a year after Sunshine, he took a smallish role in the Wachowskis’ Speed Racer, which has since grown in cult status. He plays the owner of a automotive conglomerate that’s neither the scrappy family business staffed by the movie’s heroes, nor the corporation that serves as the primary villain, and there’s a lot to look at in this busy, brilliant picture. But at least the Wachowskis seems genuinely interested in this fun-house looking-glass version of Asian culture, and letting their actors take the silliness seriously.

After Speed Racer, TV gigs occupied much of Sanada’s time. But he did eventually turn up in the Marvel universe, as all actors must. His “biggest” movie in that regard is Avengers: Endgame, where he plays a Yakuza boss killed by Jeremy Renner’s Hawkeye – but his better material as a comic-book bad guy comes from the less-seen and superior Fox Marvel offshoot The Wolverine, Hugh Jackman’s second solo outing as everyone’s favorite healing-powered mutant. He plays son of the movie’s true baddie, a Japanese businessman with ties to (yes) the Yakuza. Like a lot of characters in the movie, he tries to kill Wolverine. But like a lot of actors in the movie, Sanada benefits less from a fully dimensionalized character than the movie’s overall conviction. His big fight scene with Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) and his self-appointed bodyguard Yukio (Rila Fukushima) has a small-scale intensity lacking from a lot of superhero pictures. For the nastiness to land, the actors have to make you believe in their grappling, and Sanada stays on Jackman’s level in this regard.

If The Wolverine is an unusually entertaining example of Hollywood movies cynically trading on some kind of perceived Asian action-movie mystique, many of Sanada’s subsequent big movies were, well, less so: the fantasy-action movie 47 Ronin, the surprisingly dull Mortal Kombat reboot, the overstuffed and underinspired Rush Hour 3, Zack Snyder’s fun but forgettable Army of the Dead, and the Japan-set Bullet Train. But perhaps Sanada’s best and most-seen American movie part so far is in John Wick: Chapter 4, where he plays Wick’s buddy Shimazu Koji, manager of the Continental in Osaka, where the world’s greatest gunman seeks refuge towards the beginning of the film. Naturally, a 15-minute action sequence ensues, in large part because Koji refuses to turn his back on his friend – setting off a revenge-minded side plot that could yet come into play for a future Wick spinoff.

RUSH HOUR 3, Hiroyuki Sanada, Jackie Chan, 2007, (c)New Line Cinema/courtesy Everett Collection
Photo: Everett Collection

Sanada essentially welcomes the audience back into Wick world after the movie’s initial throat-clearing; like many of his movie characters, he doesn’t have a ton of screen time and we understand him almost entirely in terms of the (white) lead character’s goals. Yet Sanada has such a likable, inviting presence, and brings enough warmth to a few brief moments with his daughter/second-in-command (Rina Sawayama) to suggest a broader world for his character without tedious exposition or world-building. Some of that is in the movie’s writing, but much of it is in Sanada’s natural presence, enlivening the cliché of the previously unseen friend who’s ride-or-die for our hero. It takes some level of movie-star charisma to walk into the fourth part of a long-running franchise and help create a beloved side character over the course of a few minutes; imagine what he could do with a whole movie. After his Emmy win for Shōgun, maybe Sanada’s next movie will be a vehicle taking even greater advantage of his talents.

Jesse Hassenger (@rockmarooned) is a writer living in Brooklyn. He’s a regular contributor to The A.V. Club, Polygon, and The Week, among others. He podcasts at www.sportsalcohol.com, too.