NOTE: The below Blu-ray captures were taken directly from the Blu-ray disc.

ADDITION: Radiance Blu-ray (September 2025): Radiance have transferred Tokuzo Tanaka's The Betrayal to Blu-ray. It is cited as being a "High-Definition digital transfer by Kadokawa". This 1080P preserves the film's original black-and-white Tohoscope cinematography with pleasing clarity and depth. There is appreciated stability in grays and blacks across varying lighting conditions, with no significant print damage, debris, or encoding flaws, allowing deep-focus shots to retain intricate background details and close-ups to capture subtle facial textures and expressions. The shimmering quality of drawn swords and the overall consistent visual presentation enhance the dynamic action sequences and atmospheric compositions by cinematographer Chikashi Makiura (Lone Wolf and Cub: Sword of Vengeance, Shogun Assassin, Hanzo the Razor,) making this release a visually stunning showcase for Tanaka's masterful framing and gothic undertones, far surpassing any prior home video versions.

NOTE: We have added 90 more large resolution Blu-ray captures (in lossless PNG format) for DVDBeaver Patrons HERE

On their Blu-ray, Radiance use a linear PCM dual-mono track (24-bit) in the original Japanese language. This provides a clean and balanced mix that ensures dialogue remains intelligible even during intense music swells and chaotic sound effects from the film's escalating violence. Without any tinny distortion or overpowering elements, the soundtrack effectively supports Akira Ifukube's (Battle in Outer Space, Anatahan, The Mysterians, the original Godzilla - and other Godzilla features like King Kong Escapes - the bulk of Zatoichi series, plus Kurosawa's The Quiet Duel and many others) subtle, somber score - characterized by its mournful motifs that underscore the narrative's themes of doom and betrayal - while the clanging of blades and ambient noises add visceral impact to the action without overwhelming the orchestral cues. Radiance offer optional English subtitles on their Region FREE Blu-ray.

Radiance's Blu-ray is packed with insightful supplements, including a select-scene audio commentary by Japanese film historian Tom Mes (Japanese Film and the Challenge of Video) spanning four key sequences (The Samurai Film, Japanese Film Studios, Anatomy of a Duel and The Grapes of Samurai Wrath - totaling 41 minutes), where he delves into topics like samurai film conventions, studio history, duel anatomy, and the protagonist's wrathful arc. Two newly produced visual essays stand out: Philip Kemp's (Movies: From the Silent Classics of the Silver Screen to the Digital and 3-D Era) "The Path to Betrayal" (approximately 10 minutes), which compares The Betrayal to the 1925 silent Orochi [The Serpent] through clips and analysis of shared elements like ronin tropes and directorial bios, as illustrated in the attached screen capture emphasizing the silent version's story. The second is Tom Mes's "The Four Elements of Tokuzô Tanaka" (around 9 minutes), exploring recurring themes of mist, earth, fire, and time across Tanaka's oeuvre, with references to films like The Snow Woman and a focus on The Betrayal's finale, as shown in the captures highlighting four key themes and recurring stylistic characteristics. Rounding out the package are a reversible sleeve with original and commissioned artwork by Time Tomorrow, plus a limited-edition booklet featuring Alain Silver's (From the Moment They Met It Was Murder: Double Indemnity and the Rise of Film Noir) essay on the film's place in jidaigeki history and the careers of Tanaka and star Raizô Ichikawa, all housed in premium Scanavo packaging with a removable OBI strip.

Tokuzo Tanaka's The Betrayal stands as a pinnacle of the chanbara (sword-fighting) genre within Japan's jidaigeki (period drama) tradition, particularly the subgenre of "cruel jidai-geki" that emerged in the 1960s. Directed by Tanaka, a veteran who apprenticed under masters like Kenji Mizoguchi on Ugetsu Monogatari (1953) and Akira Kurosawa on Rashomon (1950,) The Betrayal was produced by Daiei Studios during a prolific era of efficient, high-output samurai cinema. Starring the charismatic Raizô Ichikawa (An Actor's Revenge, The Loyal 47 Ronin, An Osaka Story, Sleepy Eyes of Death: Hell Is a Woman) in one of his final roles - before his untimely death in 1969 - alongside Shiho Fujimura (The Snow Woman) and Kaoru Yachigusa (Samurai I: Musashi Miyamoto, Samurai II: Duel at Ichijoji Temple, Samurai III: Duel at Ganryu Island,) it adapts and expands on Buntarô Futagawa's silent-era film Orochi (1925.) At its core, The Betrayal is a searing indictment of bushidô not as a noble ethos but as a tool of systemic oppression, where loyalty is a one-way obligation exploited by those in power. Takuma's naive faith in reciprocity - believing that self-sacrifice will yield restoration - exposes the code's fragility, transforming it into a mechanism for diffusing blame downward through rituals of silence, coded language, and feigned propriety. Themes of isolation and disillusionment permeate the film: Takuma's moral purity isolates him, much like the ronin's existential drift in broader 1960s jidaigeki, reflecting post-war Japan's grappling with militaristic legacies. Betrayal here is multifaceted - personal (from lovers and mentors), institutional (clan's abandonment), and existential (honor's hollowness) - culminating in a worldview where survival demands forsaking the very ideals that define one's identity. With strong technical merits in video and audio, complemented by scholarly extras that provide deep contextual insights - including the visual essays - this Radiance Blu-ray is essential for jidaigeki enthusiasts, earning high praise for its role in spotlighting a "perfect" film ripe for reevaluation amid giants like Harakiri and Sword of Doom. This release of The Betrayal is a triumphant rediscovery of an underappreciated chanbara gem, offering a pristine restoration that elevates Tanaka Tokuzô's cynical deconstruction of bushidô honor and Raizô Ichikawa's poignant performance, particularly in the film's hypnotic, endurance-testing finale that ranks among samurai cinema's finest. Absolutely recommended.

Gary Tooze