Nací, pero...

I like Yasujiro Ozu's work, but, even after seeing some of those works that are generally considered best, I was still skeptical of his minimalist style. But then I saw the New Yorker VHS of the silent I Was Born, But...

Let me just say that it is absolutely amazing. It's a nearly perfect film, with great direction, great writing, great jokes, and great acting. This is easily one of the best film about children ever made. The story revolves around two young boys whose dad has just moved to the suburbs near his boss. The kids have some trouble fitting in, and a gang of bullies accost them at first. But soon they conquer the leader of the gang and supplant him.

Later in the film, the kids are challenged with their perception of their father. They think he's everything, of course, but they soon find out that he is only a salaryman. They watch his boss' movies, which include shots of the father fooling around for the entertainment of his employer. The children are flabberghasted, and rebel against their father. I have said it is a great film about childhood; it is also a great film about parenting, as the father and mother have to deal with their sons' disappointment.

Please, please watch this film, especially if you have been disappointed with other works such as Tokyo Story. In my opinion, I Was Born, But... is a much better film. 10/10.

Put in simple terms, this is one of the greatest silent movies ever made. Though the film was intended to be screened with live voice-over by a benshi narrator, this masterpiece works stunningly well without sound, because Ozu's

unparalleled sense of visual rhythm, choreographed movement, and humor

keep one's eyes dancing in delight. The story concerns two boys who fight their way to gain status and respect among the local bullies, only to realize that their father is a bottom-feeder among the adults. As such it's loaded with acute

observations of Japanese society, and not without Ozu's penchant for subtle but potent criticism. For people who are used to the "slow" Ozu of the 50s, this film will be a revelation, inspiring speculation as to how and why he changed a style that already was exceptional.

I saw this film at a special screening at the Museum Of Modern Art in New York City with live piano accompaniment. I'm not sure we needed the piano, this is a really great comedy about two young brothers trying to fit in in a new place. They are faced with two things: Bullies and that they feel their father is a nobody since he works for one of the other neighborhood boy's father. The two brothers are great. The audience, which was a refreshingly large one, laughed freely through the film, as I did.This is my first Ozu film, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It depicts a child's world, what matters to them. It is a great silent film, the pace is good, it never drags. Not to be missed.

I am so glad that I ran into this movie. It left such an impression on me. The way it ended was so suprising. The boy's father was such a nice guy, and how that boy could be ashamed of him like that was really something else. It just left me in tears in the end of the movie. It makes me realize what our parents had to do to make a good living, even if it takes having to sell out your pride. His father did it because he loved his family. There is a lesson to be learned in this, and I would recommend this film in a heartbeat!

An early family drama by Ozu that starts as a coming of age-`Japanese 400 blows'- and develops into a deep essay about identity, acceptation, self-respect, honor and exemplary. Ozu has a unique style for filming rituals, and these rituals are the dynamos of Tradition. In portraying a fractured relationship between a father and his sons, Ozu reflects on the transition between an old dying order and the arrival of a new one (both kids dream of being officials in the army, some ten years before Hiroshima). This works also as a metaphor of Japan on its way to technocracy, westernization and materialism, with its small bourgeois suburbia, the ever-passing trains and even home movies and child games where kids cross themselves in the Christian fashion. There's an unforgettable traveling shot with a choreography of yawns, some recognizable `Tatami' angles, and other technical achievements that prove that Ozu mastered his craft very early on (in fact, though silent, the film looks years ahead that many contemporary Hollywood productions). A rare film and indeed a very accessible one to the complexities of the cinema of Ozu.