‘Last Samurai Standing’ Review: A Battle Royale in the Dawn of Modern Japan

It’s easy to imagine many summaries selling this series as a Squid Game with samurai—but that comparison doesn’t quite do it justice. The kill-or-be-killed competition at the center of Last Samurai Standing belongs to a long audiovisual tradition, one the Japanese have explored for decades. Battle Royale remains the most iconic example, to the point that the very idea now carries its name: a ruthless, all-against-all fight to the death in which only one survivor wins. Here there are no elaborate “games,” no teams, no puzzle-like stages—just over 290 unemployed samurai chasing a single, massive cash prize. The closest resemblance to Squid Game lies less in structure than in the shadowy elites behind the event, and perhaps in their motives.

But the real weight of the series—visually imposing and, for the most part, gripping—comes from the historical moment it depicts. Based on a novel by Shogo Imamura, the story begins in late-19th-century Japan with a long, unbroken tracking shot that introduces Shujiro Saga (Junichi Okada). He’s one of the most formidable and feared warriors on the field, and we see him single-handedly turn the tide of a Boshin War battle—only to be pummeled moments later by a hail of gunfire, a brutal reminder that the age of the sword is ending. It’s the transition from the Edo period to the modernizing Meiji era, and the feudal system that once sustained the samurai is collapsing. Rebellions and defeats will soon turn these warriors into outcasts. On top of that, a wave of malaria is ravaging their families, turning an already bleak reality into a desperate one.

Shujiro, once famed for his killing instinct, is now a battered, “pre-Freudian” portrait of post-traumatic stress. He has abandoned violence, but peace doesn’t bring stability. Poverty tightens its grip, malaria kills one of his children and sickens the rest, and the future shrinks to a point. That’s when he stumbles upon a mysterious flyer summoning samurai to Kyoto for a competition with a reward of 100 million yen—an unimaginable fortune. Forced to set aside his pacifism, or at least pretend to, Shujiro heads toward what looks like salvation in its most brutal form.

None of the participants know the rules until they arrive: 291 fighters enter; one exits, after killing all the others. That’s it. In practice, the contest unfolds in stages—an initial massacre that wipes out dozens, followed by a long trek across dangerous territory where survivors must reach the next town while fending off rivals taking the same road toward Tokyo. With caution and cleverness rather than aggression, Shujiro survives the opening bloodbath and rescues Futaba (Yumia Fujisaki), a young woman whose situation mirrors his own: a family in crisis and nothing left to lose. Protecting her becomes his driving force, and as new allies and predators join their path, Shujiro is slowly pushed to awaken the beast he worked so hard to bury.

In parallel, Last Samurai Standing turns its gaze to the organizers—the clearest link to its Korean cousin. A cartel of the ultra-rich delights in watching the poor slaughter each other for survival, a grotesque funhouse reflection of today’s extreme capitalism. The game also serves a political purpose: an efficient way to eliminate the samurai without getting their hands dirty. Authorities attempt to stop the bloodshed, but competing interests complicate any intervention.

This historical backdrop gives the series a solid foundation, even as it embraces a more contemporary, effects-driven spectacle. The action is often exhilarating, though visually the show sometimes veers close to video-game aesthetics. It’s evident that the creators wanted a popular, globally accessible language to frame a story rooted in more classical themes and archetypes. That push toward mass appeal is what nudges Last Samurai Standing into a subgenre of jidaigeki seasoned with fantasy elements. The big set pieces work, but they create a stylistic fracture when contrasted with the more traditional storytelling around them.

The season ends mid-battle, making a continuation inevitable. And given how strongly this first chapter is poised to perform, it’s almost certain that these survivors will return—carrying with them newfound bonds formed in the middle of chaos. For now, action remains the driving force of the show, but beneath the carnage lies a rich, complex tale about social and economic change in 19th-century Japan, a moment when rising corporate power and political ambition were already forming an alliance willing to do anything to win.