The Chrysanthemum and the Guillotine (2018)

The Chrysanthemum and the Guillotine feels like history kicked open a door and let in a rush of sweat, song, and defiant life—an unusually vivid period drama that finds its heartbeat in the fierce, rarely-seen world of female sumo. Set amid the tremors of post–Great Kanto Earthquake unrest, it braids personal ambition and political fervor into something energetic and surprisingly buoyant, even when the shadows of the era press in. The film’s great gift is its versatility: it can be rousing and intimate in the same breath, and when it turns moving, it earns it through lived-in characters rather than speeches. It is long, and its wanderings won’t suit viewers who want a tight, plot-first march, but if you’re open to a lively epic with meaningful themes and a bracing sense of humanity, it’s a singular experience worth making time for.

The Chrysanthemum and the Guillotine is clearly aiming for an ambitious, politically charged portrait of post–Great Kanto Earthquake Japan, using the unlikely intersection of female sumo wrestlers and anarchists to explore power, identity, and rebellion. The problem is it’s a long haul with a wandering, unfocused structure that often feels cramped despite the runtime, hopping through time and ideas without giving them room to land. Performances can skew theatrical and over-the-top, which may read as stylized to some but will be grating if you prefer grounded drama. If you love messy, sprawling historical epics and don’t mind uneven pacing, there’s something intriguing here; if you need clarity, momentum, and consistent tone, this will likely test your patience.