Tadanobu Asano has one of those faces that can go from serene to “oh god, he’s about to boil someone alive” in about half a second, which probably explains why his Shōgun character, Yabushige, has become the internet’s favorite untrustworthy warlord. When I tell him this, he laughs with a kind of gentle disbelief, like he’s still not entirely sure why anyone likes the guy. But then again, Asano says he’s always enjoyed playing the one audiences aren’t supposed to root for. “I like being the disliked one,” he tells me. “It was really fun.”
That’s the paradox of Shōgun: the character least interested in loyalty—unless it’s advantageous at that exact second—is the one who ends up stealing the show. Asano shrugs when I bring that up, as if he’s been thinking the same thing. “He’s not trying to grab power. He’s looking at how to survive, and how to live in the most interesting way.” And somewhere in that reflexive survivalism, viewers recognize a familiar impulse. “There’s a Yabu in everyone,” he says, which is a hell of a line coming from a man whose character literally boils a guy alive.
When I ask whether anyone in Shōgun qualifies as “good” or “bad,” Asano shakes his head immediately. “Someone might be doing something good… but it’s actually for a big plan.” Everyone’s scheming, everyone’s hiding something. Except Yabushige, who—ironically—is the closest thing the show has to a straight shooter. “He’s the most honest,” Asano says. And it’s true in that “you knew who he was the whole time” type of honesty, not the moral kind. Maybe that’s why audiences love him: Yabushige doesn’t pretend.
Asano isn’t a history obsessive, but even he admits Japan’s Sengoku period is a magnet—dramatic, bloody, strange, full of ritual and contradiction. “It’s a really amazing and interesting time period,” he says. Playing a character in that world means threading the needle between honor and opportunism, tradition and instinct. And also rain. “Vancouver rains a lot,” he laughs. He spent eight months there for the shoot. “Being away from home was challenging.” Also challenging: everything Yabushige has to physically do. “He was doing more than the other roles,” he says, with a kind of rueful smile that suggests bruises were involved.
The crew was a cultural mash-up—Japanese talent working within an American TV system, with Canadian crews, and you can imagine how many ways that could go sideways. But Asano swears it stayed grounded thanks to Hiroyuki Sanada, who not only stars but also serves as producer. “He really bridged the gap,” Asano says. “He worked so hard to make sure it was a well-oiled machine.”
And then there’s that final scene—that look. The one that made half the internet freeze the frame just to decode it. “Pain, joy… all those emotions,” Asano says. “I think Yabu was looking at [Toranaga] saying, ‘It’s your turn now.’” The moment wasn’t storyboarded or rehearsed. “It came about on set,” he says. Instinct, pure and simple.
His instinct isn’t limited to acting, either. Asano’s also a punk musician, which surprises some people but absolutely shouldn’t. Yabushige is basically punk energy filtered through the 1600s. “My artwork influences my roles, and my roles influence my artwork,” he says. “It goes both ways.” He didn’t use a playlist to get into character, but if he had? “Probably some sort of punk rock,” he says.
Even better: he’s got new music coming. “My band’s been talking about recording another album and maybe a live tour.” And the influences? Still punk—but also ska. “Ska is coming back,” he says, excitedly. “It’s the fun punk rock. You can just let go, dance.” If we get a second wave of ska in this decade and it’s because Tadanobu Asano willed it into existence, that feels cosmically correct.
As for a second season of Shōgun, he’d love to see it—but Yabushige isn’t exactly available to reprise. “He’s already died,” Asano says with a shrug. “I don’t think I would be part of it.”
Even in death, Yabushige remains the most honest liar in the room.
Watch the interview above and then check out the trailer below.
