Shōgun Recap: Family Matters

‘A Stick of Time’ reveals more of Toranaga’s past, but leaves his plans for the future more mysterious than ever. Read more and discuss in the recap of ‘Shōgun’s seventh episode.

“A Stick of Time” is now streaming on Hulu. It airs on FX tonight at 10 p.m.

As “A Stick of Time” opens, Shōgun viewers might find themselves wondering if they missed an episode. Its predecessor, “Ladies of the Willow World,” concluded with Toranaga calling for Crimson Sky, the apocalyptic-sounding plan to mount a full-court press on Osaka Castle. And now we see a mist-covered battlefield and learn, in the first line of dialogue, that the war is over and Lord Toranaga has won. Say what? This turns out to be a fake-out, a flashback to Toranaga’s youth to open an episode in which we learn more about his origins than ever before.

All of that’s to come, however. Traveling back 46 years prior to the main action of the series, the opening depicts a 12-year-old Toranaga accepting the surrender of Mizoguchi, an opponent who expresses wonder at losing to the rare warlord who can “win their first battle before pillowing their first girl.” After asking that he be remembered with honor, he takes his own life via seppuku, but not before asking that Young Toranaga serve as his second. As most acts of seppuku ended with the second bringing it to a close, this is no small request, and may serve a dual purpose. Sure, it honors Young Toranaga, but it also requires him to prove he has what it takes despite being, well, a kid. “Maybe we’ll meet again in the afterlife,” Mizoguchi tells him before opening his own guts and waiting for Toranaga to finish the job. “Maybe the one holding the sword will be me.” That’s not exactly a warm farewell.

From that we return to the main action and a not-exactly-warm hello. There’s a lot hanging in the balance of Toranaga’s meeting with his semi-estranged half-brother, Saeki Nobutatsu (Eita Okuno). In fact, if the pre-meeting chatter is to be believed, everything hangs in the balance. Toranaga’s future depends on Saeki not being a resentful jerk who’s tired of living in the shadow of his more famous sibling and prepared to take advantage of Toranaga’s weakened position. And, after a tense opening exchange, everyone’s relieved when Saeki and Toranaga share a laugh. When Blackthorne doesn’t screw up the meeting, even addressing Nobutatsu in Japanese, things look even better. This Crimson Sky plan might work after all. Phew!

Or at least that’s how it seems at first. But all is not so peaceful behind the scenes. Toranaga grouses to Mariko about the high cost of procuring a week of Kiku’s services for Saeki, even before learning Gin cut the price in exchange for a “stick of time,” a meeting with him that will last as long as it takes a stick of incense to burn down. Toranaga also meets with Blackthorne, who would really like to assume maritime command, and if so — and this will not be a shock — he would really like to get his ship back. Is that possible? For now, at least, that’s a no-go, much to Blackthorne’s frustration. (Of note: Mariko does not translate this request, but Toranaga anticipates it anyway.)

Kiku’s new gig has repercussions elsewhere, too. It makes her unavailable to Omi and gives Gin a chance to plant a seed by suggesting to the young lord that Blackthorne’s thoughts would really have been with someone else during his time with Kiku at the tea house. Hmm …

Under cloudy skies, other characters contemplate their situations and their futures. Fuji meets with Hiromatsu, who brings with him from Osaka the ashes of her husband and child, and casually notes her plans to end her life when her service is up; Hiromatsu asks if victory might not change her mind, but this isn’t really a fate she’s considered. Watching as Saeki enjoys a soak, Nagakado expresses his desire to see battle, and soon. Yabushige isn’t quite so enthusiastic, however. (Later, Yabushige’s own soak will almost start a skirmish with Saeki’s men, and another corner of the hot springs sees Nagakado getting into a verbal confrontation with his uncle.) Then, as the sun sets, the real action begins.

Saeki seems in good spirits at the evening’s festivities, and he is, but not for the reasons Toranaga and his companions hope. When talk turns to Young Toranaga’s boyhood victory and the seppuku in which he assisted, he takes the opportunity to mock the potential terms of their alliance and tell an embarrassing story from Toranaga’s childhood. There is no respect here — but Saeki doesn’t need to show respect. It turns out that he’s made another alliance in exchange for the recently vacated seat on the Council of Regents. Oh, and by the way, Toranaga needs to report to Osaka for punishment and Nagakadu needs to commit seppuku for the cannon attack. This dinner did not go according to plan.

Blackthorne’s reaction: Maybe he could get his ship back? But this isn’t as single-minded as it seems at first. Though he doesn’t say it explicitly, he wants to flee with Mariko, a suggestion Mariko cannot entertain. For all the heat between them, there are codes she cannot break. The turn brings disappointments to others, too. In return for attempting to ingratiate himself to Ishido in anticipation of Toranaga’s rival coming out on top, Yabushige receives the severed head of the messenger he sent to Osaka, a reply he greets with a (perfectly in-character) dark chuckle.

What will Toranaga’s next move be? Even those closest to him don’t know as they wait for him to return from contemplating it in solitude. Is it odd, then, that Gin seems to understand his motivations better than his war council? During their stick of time, she proposes that his plans for Edo, the growing metropolis later to be named Tokyo, include a district carved out for courtesans and classy tea houses. She’s essentially proposing a sort of proto-geisha class, a more civilized space for inhabitants of the willow world, even as they age. When Toranaga suggests he has no future ahead of him she, politely but unmistakably, suggests he’s bluffing. Toranaga, she suggests, knew Saeki would pull this nonsense and let his men cross the border anyway. She might not know the extent of Toranaga’s plan, but she sees a plan where others see only chaos. (Either way, he later arranges for her to get the land she requested in the event of his death.)

Plan or no, tensions are, to put it mildly, running high. Yabushige suggests Blackthorne might have been better off getting boiled alive in the pot — a reminder that, as charismatic as he might be, this is still a man who boils people alive — then engages in a mock sword battle that’s not entirely in the spirit of play. But even if Yabushige wants to humiliate the barbarian, it’s Buntaro who uses the opportunity to hold a sword to Blackthorne’s throat to express his hate. “Might as well be now,” Blackthorne says of their seemingly inevitable confrontation. But it’s not now. Not yet, anyway. And maybe never. When Buntaro later asks permission of Toranaga to take his head for the way he looks at Mariko, Toranaga shuts it down by telling him he’d have to kill both Blackthorne and Mariko, presumably knowing Buntaro would never agree.

Nonetheless, Mariko gets an earful from her lord after her husband leaves. He wants to know that her priority remains assisting him as she takes revenge on her father’s enemies, but worries that she prioritizes Blackthorne’s needs. This accusation more or less short-circuits Mariko’s overlapping loyalties and she asks permission to commit seppuku. It’s a tense scene and a beautifully acted one. Toranaga might just be trying to motivate Mariko but, in the process, he sees the torture created by her desire to serve him and live by the samurai code, her love for Blackthorne, and her faith. Toranaga replies by smacking the knife from her hand, and then, for a character in some ways defined by hiding his emotions, seems a bit tortured himself by the conflict.

He still seems disturbed as he gathers his leaders around him and reflects on the truth behind Mizoguchi’s death, one to which Hiromatsu bore witness. Yes, he did cut off his defeated foe’s head. But it took a while. There’s a gap between truth and legend. Is he reflecting on this death because he knows he’s defeated? It seems that way when Saeki returns for his answer and Toranaga tells him he will go to Osaka and bow before the hated Lord Ishido. Saeki is not gracious in victory. “Tomorrow you have nowhere to go, “ he says, “and nothing left to be.”

This confidence looks like it might be short-lived, however. When Kiku excuses herself from Saeki’s intense lovemaking to retrieve some “tools” for his pleasure, Nagakado arrives in characteristically impulsive fashion to kill his uncle. But before Nagakado can deliver the final blow, he slips and hits his own head on a rock in the courtyard.

And so we say farewell to a would-be warlord who never got the chance to experience the thrill of battle. It’s tempting to call Nagakado a failson, but Shōgun honestly hasn’t provided enough evidence to make that call. Nagakado was overeager, sure, but he also had potential. His death, perhaps the most shocking and unexpected moment of the series so far, leaves what he might have accomplished — whether successes or failures — an open question, along with what impact this loss will have on Toranaga. As the battle-enamored kid dies, he hears Saeki ask a final question: “Where is the beauty in this?”

Feudal Gestures

• “A Stick of Time” backloads the action but it’s no less compelling for this choice. The tension is thick and Saeki’s an intriguing new wild card. In some ways he’s the opposite of his half-brother. He’s true to the samurai code without really adhering to its spirit. There’s nothing courteous about him. He’s also a slippery character, one who has schemes within schemes, but maybe he’s just more open about this than Toranaga.

• It’s also a rich episode for philosophizing, particularly Fuji’s scenes. When Nagakado talks to Fuji as she prepares for battle, he more or less apologizes for not having taken the stand that got her husband and child killed. Though saddened by the memory, Fuji replies, “We do what we can when we can. We can only hope it’s enough.” She’s seen her life upended, and though she’s found a new purpose she doesn’t plan to outlive the task at hand before joining her family in death. Will that change? Shōgun has not shown any interest in steering its characters toward happy endings, and the death of Fuji’s family in the first episode set a tone to which the show has stayed true.

• Without spoiling anything, this is a particularly interesting episode in terms of the ways it diverges from James Clavell’s novel, suggesting the back half of this miniseries will go its own way with some parts of the story.