Thursday, February 25, 2010

Tôkyô monogatari (1953)

Tokyo Story (1953) lived up to all my expectations. I've only seen one other film by Ozu, Good morning (1959), which I remember for its simple story and lack of extravaganza. The same is true about this one. Static camera, no-nonsense acting and a story that can be summed up in a few lines. An elderly couple visits their children in Tokyo. To their son and his wife their presence is a burden. They are uncomfortable. They also meet their late son's widow, who greet them much more cordially. They return home. The mother dies. Ozu's film registers changes in Japanese life (after world war two) but he does this subtly, abstaining from saying anything about either cultural development or degeneration. His film is not judgemental in the least. He does not moralize over the children who are too busy to attend to their parents. He simply points out differences among the characters. As many have pointed out, the camera angle is in itself an indication of Ozu's perspective (we see things from a quite low angle, almost looking up at the characters - as if in awe). Even though this is not a cold, objective stance, it is not intrusive either. In a certain sense, Tokyo story is not a humanistic film. The message is not "but we're only human, after all" (what I would call contempt disguised in the clothes of humanism). Nor is it "these silly puppets..." Before watching it, I worried a bit that I was going to put myself through two hours of a lugubrious meditation on the dissolution of Family. But it wasn't preaching the message of anything - thankfully. Just describing changes taking place.

It's a film with too many beautiful scenes to count. Some explore urban landscapes, other peep into rooms, sometimes empty. It's also a film that uses music in a very original way - not as a prop for emotions. Yay for that!

(Afterwards, my friend pointed out the similarity between Ozu and Bresson. He is right.)

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