Yasujirō Ozu

  • Sanma no aji [An Autumn Afternoon] (1962)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2022) This review of writer-director Yasujirō Ozu’s An Autumn Afternoon can probably be cut and pasted for reuse in discussing most of his work – here’s a filmmaker observing Japan in a sensitive and humane way, cleanly portraying small-scale domestic dramas, often in very specific terms that illuminate his culture for non-Japanese viewers. And… it usually puts me to sleep. That’s integral to the charm of his films, I suppose: their refusal to escalate their drama in extreme or genre-friendly way is the point. Otherwise, their portrayal of characters would be detached from the reality they’re portraying. An Autumn Afternoon, revolving around the responsibilities of an elderly man having to find husbands for his daughters and (more crucially) letting them go on their own, is not about big drama: it’s about the natural passage of life stages, and there’s a lot to commend in the result. The flip side, though, is that you have to be ready for such films – even at a reasonably spry 113 minutes, this is not a film designed to jolt you awake every few moments, and there’s an implicit barrier in trying to understand Japanese social structures from the glimpses provided by the film. If you’re the more impatient viewer, reading a plot summary may help the experience: no, you won’t lose much by having the plot spoiled for you when the plot is about the least interesting thing about the result. Brief yourself thoroughly on what’s going to happen, then spend your time appreciating the nuances. And don’t feel too guilty if, in the end, you conclude it’s not your kind of movie.

  • Banshun [Late Spring] (1949)

    Banshun [Late Spring] (1949)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Criterion Streaming, May 2020) Give me the choice, and I’d rather watch a middling genre movie than a great dramatic one, but even I will admit that there’s something quietly soothing in writer-director Yasujirō Ozu’s Late Spring. It shows ordinary people living ordinary lives, does not feature a villain, and simply follows along a personal-scale story. It helps a lot that the characters are so sympathetic, especially the father/daughter pair that drives the plot. The heroine is immensely likable, especially as played by Ozu stalwart Setsuko Hara. Late Spring is a down-to-Earth look at postwar Japan (reading about the script censorship by American authorities makes for fascinating cross-cultural shock). There’s nothing flashy in Ozu’s direction, but that allows the actors to do what they do best. I suppose there’s something poignant for me here about a father letting go of his daughter for her own good. Don’t obsess about the plot, just let the film flow by.

  • Tôkyô monogatari [Tokyo Story] (1953)

    Tôkyô monogatari [Tokyo Story] (1953)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Criterion Streaming, November 2019) Everyone is free to come up with their own personal top-100 films. Mine is filled with less-than-respectable spectacles, thrills, jokes, and musical numbers. But it’s important to check out the canon of accepted “greatest movies” to see what the fuss is about—and maybe see something different along the way. Many will call Tokyo Story one of the best movies of all time. I notice it doesn’t show up on top-100s, but does pop up on top-250s, 500s and 1000s. You would probably have to expand that to 10,000 if it was to figure on my own top lists, but that’s fine—this is something very different from the usual movie in themes or presentation. For one thing, it’s an early-1950s Japanese film that’s firmly set at that specific time and place, poking at the lasting impact of World War II and the social dislocation in a society transitioning to the western model. If you’re familiar with writer-director Yasujirō Ozu’s body of work, you won’t be surprised to find out that the film is incredibly slow paced, observant, meditative and character-based. The plot isn’t much more than an elderly couple travelling to Tokyo to visit their kids. That would be a safe premise for most filmmakers. But here, Ozu goes for something that is still, seventy years later, not often depicted in film—the very common experience of children rebuffing their parents, not being overly enthusiastic about their presence, and being solely focused on their own lives. It gets worse, because if you’re expecting a heartwarming moment of reconciliation, you’re going to outlast the end credit sequence: one of the leads dies, the kids still don’t care, and the survivor must continue living alone. This isn’t exactly the cheeriest of topics, nor a dramatic arc that makes viewers happy.  What’s more, the execution of the film—all static shots and languid editing—won’t make new converts either. But Tokyo Story is an important film and an unusual one. I don’t particularly like it, but I can respect it.