I could probably start now and write until noon and not completely discuss what I watched last night. Ozu's Tokyo Story is considered by those in the film industry, to be one of, if not the greatest movie of all-time. Sights and Sound polled over 300 of the greatest living directors in 2012 and it was consider the greatest movie ever made. To argue this is silly and for the average film goer, it would easily be refuted, but the reasoning would be even sillier...it's too simple.
The story is about an elderly couple who go to visit their grown children in Tokyo after an extended hiatus. What transpires while they are there and upon their return is a fairly common tale, but never since has it been captured with such style. Where the movie enters the realm of brilliance is in it's lack of character depth. Some will argue this, but each person is a caricature of someone we all know. The decline of the family as we know it in America, is present in full display in post WWII Japan. We see grandchildren who don't really know their grandparents and even worse, don't care to. We see kids who take their parents existence for granted, seemingly content in their amusement, but it's not all the children's fault. It's society's pressure we put on the mundane. Work, status and appearances have trumped human connection. Once again, this is not all laid on the children and while the focal point is the parents, the key character is the one caring soul who is not bound by blood.
Noriko is the character's name and she is the key to the movie. She tries so hard to be what everyone else wants her to be, especially society, but as we find, there is guilt thrust upon her and those who accept her for who she has become, not who she is. There is a scene about halfway through, where she does what is expected and while it is appreciated, it is why she is doing it that matter. Noriko doesn't want to talk about the weather, her work day or some other trivial subject, because that isn't her, but it is everyone. The movie is a gentle condemnation of us living our lives for every reason we shouldn't. What we find important, in the end, is not. If this doesn't resonate with you, the movie will have no effect. The dialogue will not send shivers down your spine, unless you listen to it and it reminds you of one you've just had. The words are words we all use; Yes. Fine. Pleasant. Good. The powerful lines only come to those who have felt the frustration of conformation. Those who haven't or who are unaffected, will smile and appease the film as they do others. The film will be lost on those and that's a shame.
In the final 30 minutes, we're left with the family together, because it has to be. Each person, has done their duty and they are off. I was left sobbing. Feeling the pain that the father and Noriko felt, as every other person simple passes through life unaffected by true meaning. Ozu paints each scene, unlike any other director. The camera is placed at knee level and each person is framed. The conversations will seem odd by today's standards, but this was done intentionally. The position of each person within the shot is essential to the scene. There is no movement of the camera and whereas today's films are revered for their camera work, Ozu's steady shots are even more effective. In the final scene, we are left with a feeling of sadness, but also of hope. We know better though and that is what makes it such an incredible film.
The story is about an elderly couple who go to visit their grown children in Tokyo after an extended hiatus. What transpires while they are there and upon their return is a fairly common tale, but never since has it been captured with such style. Where the movie enters the realm of brilliance is in it's lack of character depth. Some will argue this, but each person is a caricature of someone we all know. The decline of the family as we know it in America, is present in full display in post WWII Japan. We see grandchildren who don't really know their grandparents and even worse, don't care to. We see kids who take their parents existence for granted, seemingly content in their amusement, but it's not all the children's fault. It's society's pressure we put on the mundane. Work, status and appearances have trumped human connection. Once again, this is not all laid on the children and while the focal point is the parents, the key character is the one caring soul who is not bound by blood.
Noriko is the character's name and she is the key to the movie. She tries so hard to be what everyone else wants her to be, especially society, but as we find, there is guilt thrust upon her and those who accept her for who she has become, not who she is. There is a scene about halfway through, where she does what is expected and while it is appreciated, it is why she is doing it that matter. Noriko doesn't want to talk about the weather, her work day or some other trivial subject, because that isn't her, but it is everyone. The movie is a gentle condemnation of us living our lives for every reason we shouldn't. What we find important, in the end, is not. If this doesn't resonate with you, the movie will have no effect. The dialogue will not send shivers down your spine, unless you listen to it and it reminds you of one you've just had. The words are words we all use; Yes. Fine. Pleasant. Good. The powerful lines only come to those who have felt the frustration of conformation. Those who haven't or who are unaffected, will smile and appease the film as they do others. The film will be lost on those and that's a shame.
In the final 30 minutes, we're left with the family together, because it has to be. Each person, has done their duty and they are off. I was left sobbing. Feeling the pain that the father and Noriko felt, as every other person simple passes through life unaffected by true meaning. Ozu paints each scene, unlike any other director. The camera is placed at knee level and each person is framed. The conversations will seem odd by today's standards, but this was done intentionally. The position of each person within the shot is essential to the scene. There is no movement of the camera and whereas today's films are revered for their camera work, Ozu's steady shots are even more effective. In the final scene, we are left with a feeling of sadness, but also of hope. We know better though and that is what makes it such an incredible film.
This sounds similar to a book I read a few months ago An Artist of the Floating World
ReplyDeleteThis sounds similar to a book I read a few months ago An Artist of the Floating World
ReplyDeleteI should note I only read the first sentence cuz I don't want you to ruin it for me
ReplyDeleteNot sure if my post went through. Slow paced and methodical, but that's the point. Each scene is a still camera shot, so it feels like a play. It feels like life in real time, but this gives you time to feel the pain and frustration of each side and to sort of come to realizations that these people are you or people you know. The hard part, I assume for many, is when they realize they are the kids.
ReplyDelete