‘Chushingura — 47 Ronin’ Review: A Sprawling Tale of Loyalty

There is no getting around it: This show is far from perfect. Actually, it might be far from a conventional definition of good. The storytelling is erratic, and so is some of the acting; the production values are minimal.

Yet during the vast majority of “Chushingura — 47 Ronin,” I was engrossed in the action, eager to see what was going to happen next. It did not even matter that I knew what was in store, having seen three film versions of the basic plot, including the Kenji Mizoguchi classic “The 47 Ronin,” from 1941. More celebrated plays have not exerted that kind of primal pull on me: Sometimes theater can be so elementally simple that it boils down to the basic enjoyment of a good yarn.

And this one, about a band of warriors’ vengeful quest, is among the best of all time. The show, at A.R.T./New York Theaters, is a retelling of an event from 18th-century Japan that has spawned an impressively large number of movies (including one surreal misfire from 2013 starring Keanu Reeves) as well as TV series, artworks and comic books. (“Chushingura” is an umbrella term for the works inspired by the so-called Ako incident.)

Now it’s the turn of the upstart New York company Amaterasu Za, which produces bilingual works rooted in Japanese sources and art forms. The show’s writer and director, Ako Dachs, also pops up at regular intervals as a narrator in English; the rest of the text is in Japanese, with simultaneous translation projected in supertitles whose synchronization can be haphazard. (The multitasking Dachs also did the period costumes and leads Amaterasu Za.)

The tale is set in motion when, as so often happens, someone finally loses patience. Lord Kira (Hiroko Yonekura) is a scoundrel who, on a fateful day at Edo castle, taunts Lord Asano (Yasu Suzuki) one time too many. Asano attacks Kira and wounds him. Nobody dies in the skirmish, but Asano has broken the castle’s rules by “unreasonably” drawing his sword. Not only must he commit ritual suicide, but his estate will also be seized, and his samurai retinue and staff will be dismissed.

Back at Asano’s home in Ako, his chancellor, Oishi (Tatsuo Ichikawa), rallies the samurai, now known as ronin because they are without a master, in a campaign to avenge Asano and restore his clan’s honor.

While this suggests a lot of action, the vast majority of the show, which takes place on a fairly small stage, is dedicated to chatty palace intrigue, as if we were eavesdropping on conspirators. When there is a possibility that the unseen shogun might reinstate the fallen clan, some of Asano’s followers are bereft at the prospect of losing their excuse to kill Kira. Honor-bound duty has a messy way of turning into personal revenge.

Despite writing that can be confusing — we are not told, for example, how Oishi’s group of 56 ronin ended up just 47, or maybe a supertitle zipped by too quickly — the story moves at a steady clip. And Dachs’s decision to have women play some of the male roles, most prominently Kira, is very effective.

Gender-blind casting is, of course, not uncommon in Japanese theater, and Dachs herself is a former member of that country’s all-female Takarazuka Revue company (she is a familiar presence, under the single name Ako, on New York stages, most notably in Leah Nanako Winkler’s “Kentucky” and “God Said This”). That the actors portraying samurai wear headpieces in the traditional “chonmage” style, in which a ponytail is folded back over the top of the head, creates a sense of androgynous uniformity. (Mitsuteru Okuyama did the wigs.)

So yes, “Chushingura — 47 Ronin” is far from the best show out there. But right now, this sprawling tale of loyalty to rigid codes certainly is unlike anything else on a New York stage.

Chushingura — 47 Ronin
Through Nov. 6 at A.R.T./New York, Manhattan; amaterasuza.org. Running time: 2 hours.