Shōgun Review
After watching Alien Earth, I decided to give Shōgun a chance. And I do mean give it a chance. I had seen the trailers, and although it is an historical drama and thus not necessarily historically accurate, I already suspected it wandered a bit too far from the period for my liking. The story takes place during the Sengoku period, amid the clan civil wars and the eventual restoration of Japan’s central government under the shogunate. Sheath your swords and sit down for a cup of tea.
The story follows two main characters, Lord Yoshii Toranaga and John Blackthorne, and how their meeting, or collision, shapes the course of events. Toranaga is essentially a representation of Tokugawa Ieyasu, although his name and role fuse traits of all three Great Unifiers: Oda Nobunaga, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and Tokugawa Ieyasu. He is maneuvering within the Council of Regents, a stand-in for the historical Council of Five Elders left by Hideyoshi to rule on behalf of his heir until he could succeed him.
Blackthorne, on the other hand, is based on William Adams, an English navigator who became the first Englishman to arrive in Japan, and notably the first navigator not in the service of Portugal or Spain. His character also incorporates elements of Jan Joosten, who, like Adams, was appointed an advisor and hatamoto under Ieyasu.
The setting is the final phase of the Sengoku period, more specifically the years following Hideyoshi’s death, when power was nominally held by his heir and the Council of Five Elders, to which Toranaga, as a stand-in for Ieyasu, originally belonged. Blackthorne arrives on the shores of a Kantō village ruled by Toranaga as daimyō, is captured, and is gradually drawn into the political landscape.
Over the course of the series, we follow Toranaga’s political and military maneuvering against the council, particularly against his rival and fellow regent, Lord Ishido, based on Ishida Mitsunari. In parallel, we see Blackthorne adapting to a radically different culture and to his evolving position within Japanese society. Several secondary character arcs are also explored, including Toda Mariko, based on Akechi Tama, the last descendant of the Akechi clan that assassinated Oda Nobunaga; Kashigi Yabushige, inspired by Honda Masanobu, lord of Izu under Tokugawa’s banner; and Martim Alvito, a Portuguese Jesuit missionary based on João Rodrigues.
The series excels in several areas, particularly in its sets, wardrobe, and much of its characterization. Japanese roles are portrayed by Japanese actors, and the language work is solid, even incorporating more archaic expressions such as degozaru. The depiction of the samurai class, the importance of the daisho, the paired katana and wakizashi, as well as the tanto, is handled with care. Buddhist practices are present, as are early Christian influences. Tea ceremonies, poetry, court drama, and even seppuku with appointed assistants are all represented in a largely respectful manner. That said, the frequency of seppuku feels exaggerated. Characters are shown resorting to ritual suicide for comparatively minor transgressions, creating the impression that Sengoku-era Japan operated under an almost hair-trigger code of death. In reality, while honor and duty were taken seriously, seppuku was an exceptional act, not a routine solution. By the late Sengoku period, especially following the reforms and pragmatism introduced under figures such as Nobunaga, ritual suicide was increasingly regulated rather than indiscriminately encouraged. Leaders were often far more interested in preserving useful retainers than in sacrificing them to ceremony. The result is a portrayal that is emotionally powerful, but historically overstated.
The overall pacing of the show is slow, likely slower than one might expect from a series with such a warlike title. That slower rhythm, however, allows space for character development, political tension, and careful atmosphere-building. While large-scale battles are rare, we do get occasional sword clashes and glimpses of warfare.
Unfortunately, and I cannot entirely avoid some bias here, Portugal does not receive the same level of care or accuracy in its portrayal. Beyond the absence of spoken Portuguese, which is instead represented in English, the Portuguese Empire is consistently villainized and often poorly contextualized. Blackthorne’s depiction of Portugal as being at war with England is particularly jarring. Portugal and England share the longest standing alliance in the world and have never officially been at war. While England was indeed at war with Spain at the time, Portugal was under Spanish rule during the Iberian Union, which complicates that framing significantly.
Japan also did not “fear” Portugal, whether militarily, politically, or culturally. Macau was not a military base, but a trading post, a feitoria. Portugal’s relationship with Japan was primarily economic, often benefiting from Japan’s strained relations with China, something Japanese authorities were well aware of. In practice, Japan frequently imposed conditions on Portuguese trade that favored Japanese interests, which the Portuguese generally accepted.
Tokugawa did grow concerned about the spread of Christianity and its potential impact on loyalty within the warrior class, eventually leading to its ban. Even so, Portugal was long welcomed in Japan, with many cultural elements and loanwords still present today. Unlike other western powers, such as the British, the Dutch, and much later the United States, Portugal never relied on force or coercion to secure trade with Japan. It is also worth remembering that Portuguese firearms and military technology played a decisive role in enabling Nobunaga’s rise, and consequentially the Tokugawa shogunate. That subject deserves a post of its own, one that is more strictly historical. This one, after all, is about the show.
The cast is overall very well chosen. Hiroyuki Sanada delivers an excellent performance as Toranaga, and Anna Sawai portrays a restrained and stoic Mariko. While I would have liked to see more Portuguese talent in the Portuguese roles, it was still a pleasure to see Joaquim de Almeida on screen, particularly in his scenes lecturing Blackthorne on Japanese politics.
I did wish Mariko and Martim had been given more screen time and slightly more faithful portrayals. Mariko, as Akechi, was historically pivotal, albeit in ways that differ somewhat from the series. Her refusal to commit seppuku due to her Christian faith, followed by her execution by a family retainer, broke samurai convention and undermined her use as a hostage. This, in turn, prevented the defection of her husband’s forces to Ishida at the Battle of Sekigahara, an element largely absent from the show. Sekigahara itself was where I expected the series to conclude. Instead, we are left with only a glimpse, suggesting the story will reach that point in future seasons, which have already been announced. Martim, as Rodrigues, was the first official Japanese translator, became fluent in the language, and authored the Art of the Japanese Language, published in Nagasaki, a city founded by the Portuguese. Rodrigues was not only a key interpreter for the elite, but also instrumental in the spread of Christianity in Japan. While the show hints at this, I would have appreciated a deeper exploration.
Shōgun is an ambitious and often impressive series that rewards patience, even when it occasionally strains historical credibility. If you are a fan of Japanese culture and historical settings, it is very much worth watching. If you are deeply invested in both history and cultural accuracy, it may occasionally test that goodwill. Either way, if you are willing to sit down and take your time, Shōgun offers a cup well worth drinking.
