Ever since watching the 2024 remake, I've had a hankering to compare it with the original 1980 miniseries, so I decided to scratch that itch over the past 4 days by watching the entire 9+ hour adaptation of James Clavell's epic tale of an English navigator who's blown ashore in the Japans, and is caught up in its complex feudal politics between opposing noble clans, along with the religious/trade struggle between the Portuguese Jesuits and their Shinto hosts.

I recall watching this eagerly over 5 nights during its first television broadcast. I'd read Clavell's massive and incredibly detailed novel about a year earlier and it kindled a strong desire in me to live in Japan and experience their culture firsthand; that desire would eventually be fulfilled 5 years later when I worked and lived in Tokyo for 6 months on an expat assignment. It was an unforgettable experience, even if it didn't quite live up to my Shōgun-inspired fantasy.

This is an excellent adaptation, and in many ways, I think its superior to the remake. Most importantly, it clearly sets out to tell the same story as the book, or at least as much of it as they could cram into the 552-minute runtime. With James Clavell as Executive Producer, screenwriter Eric Bercovici and director Jerry London, didn't dare try to use his story to gore their own socio-political oxen like 2024 showrunners, Rachel Kondo and Justin Marks, who made multiple changes to the plot in order to reduce the role of John Blackthorne to little more than a buffoon with no agency who's completely at the mercy of his Japanese hosts, and consider him a puppet, in stark contrast to Richard Chamberlain's supremely nuanced portrayal of a man who overcomes impossible odds to become one of Lord Toronaga's most trusted advisors, as well as a true friend.

The 1980 miniseries also takes its time in laying out the complicated plot, whereas the 2024 remake feels like its rushing headlong towards some payoff that never really arrives. The romance between Blackthorne and Lady Mariko is allowed to blossom and deepen, unlike the remake where they just seemed like Friends with Very Occasional Benefits. The Portuguese Jesuit priests (Damien Thomas and Alan Badel), along with the Captain of the Black Ship (a delightfully devilish Vladek Sheybal) and Blackthorne's rival pilot (a delightfully jovial and lusty John Rhys-Davies) are given much bigger roles to play, while the remake shifts the story almost exclusively to the POV of the Japanese characters, which is both good and bad.

Where the earlier miniseries really screwed the Shiba Inu was by not directly translating the Japanese dialogue with subtitles, instead inserting an occasional title card with a brief explanation of who a certain character was. Orson Welles also pops up to narrate the action or pitch Birdseye Frozen Peas and Paul Masson wine. Clavell apparently hated subtitles and wanted the audience to experience the same sort of cultural barrier that Pilot Major Blackthorne was struggling with. In my opinion, this was a huge blunder, especially when you're dealing with such a complex plot and it makes some of the most interesting Japanese characters like Toronaga and Yabu seem 2-dimensional. Kudos to the remake for not making the same mistake, although they didn't need to do it at the expense of the non-Japanese characters.

Which brings me to Lady Mariko, the most complex and interesting character in the book and miniseries. Although Anna Sawai made a proper fist of it in the remake, I prefer the 1980 Mariko, played by the ethereally beautiful Yoko Shimada, who sadly passed away from cancer a couple of years ago. She has a spine of steel, but is delicate as a cherry blossom. No need for her to engage Ishido's palace guards with a naginata. In this version, she can kick ass and take Namae with just the slightest nod or smile.

Finally, I was gratified to see the story told without any nonsensical modern-day filters imposed by the showrunners to strip away what they perceived to be Blackthorne's appropriation of Japanese culture or his supposed White Savior status. There's also no attempt to hide the casual racism practiced by all parties in the 16th century, be they Portuguese, Spanish, English, Dutch, or Japanese, which gives the proceedings a bit more veracity. I've read a couple of interviews with Kondo and Marks, and they come across as insufferable scolds who're more interested in virtue signaling than telling the actual story in Clavell's book. At one point, they complain about the amount of sex in the novel like a couple of prudish monks. If that's such a problem for them, I hope they aren't handed the reins to adapt the next novel in Clavell's Asian Saga, "Tai Pan", which as I recall, had more shagging than an Austin Powers movie.