Été précoce

Not only are no two Ozu movies the same, but each marks a notable

development along the continuum of one of the most formidable artistic visions in film. This mid-career masterpiece is no exception -- its unique qualities lie partly in its assiduous exploration of interior space in an ingenious opening sequence, beautifully capturing the rhythms and choreography of a family

household as they go about their morning routine. It's no wonder that this is the favorite Ozu movie of formalist film scholar than David Bordwell -- Ozu frames and re-frames his compositions, reinventing spaces with each cut and shot,

turning an ordinary house into a cinematic funhouse -- only PLAYTIME, IVAN

THE TERRIBLE and LAST YEAR IN MARIENBAD have offered similar wonders

as far as I'm concerned. Neither is this style for style's sake: as we follow the story of how this family is pressured by social convention to marry off their daughter, the inevitable disintegration of this family makes the synchronicity and synergy of that marvelous opening sequence all the more poignant. In between, there is a rich variety of interactions between three generations of families and friends as they meet their fates, individually and collectively, one exquisite, fleeting moment at a time.

There are few lovers of serious cinema who do not consider "Tokyo "Story" a masterpiece. I, for one, would be prepared to place it among the "top ten" of all time. When I first saw it on British TV many years ago I was excited by the discovery of a form of cinema unlike any other. In the months that followed I began to experience frustration that no other of Ozu's fairly large output was available. At long last "Ohayu" turned up. I remember thinking it very inconsequential beside "Tokyo Story" but pleasing nonetheless, possibly Ozu not so much having an off-day as a day off. What I found remarkable however was its stylistic affinity to "Tokyo", the absence of camera movement, the prefacing of each dramatic sequence, generally taking place in a domestic interior shot from near-ground level, with two or three shots, often still-life exteriors with background music carried over into the next dialogue scene; in other words a director who is completely true to his own way of seeing things, as instantly recognisable from a single shot as are composers as diverse as Martinu, Rawsthorne and Roy Harris from one bar of their music. It is only recently that I have managed to catch up with five other Ozu films, each a gem in its own way but small in scale. "Early Summer" is a typical example. It deals with the same situation as "Late Spring", that of the pressures on a young woman by her family to get married. Ozu generally explores family relationships which, although hardly dysfunctional, abound in tensions. Here we have an elderly couple living with their doctor son and their unmarried daughter, the son's wife and their two small sons completing the household. An elderly uncle visits early on and neighbours and friends, particularly those of the unmarried daughter make up the rest of the cast played by a company of stock actors that appear in many of Ozu's films. Each generation responds to life in its own way. The elderly couple are disappointed particularly with the younger members of the family. They sit on park benches or in the privacy of their bedroom and sigh that, in spite of everything, things could be much worse and they should be happy with their lot. The middle generation get on with the business of living, often in a blinkered way so that we wonder whether they are aware of the tensions they so often generate. The children are completely selfish little monsters who cut up rough if they don't get their own way, as when they mistake a wrapped loaf of bread that their father brings home, for the model railway accessories they are hoping to receive. There is little in the way of plot other than that of the "Will she? Won't she?" variety. But for the enormous expectations raised by "Tokyo Story", I might well have passed "Early Summer" by. And yet there is a uniqueness and purity of style that somehow draws me back to these simple vignettes of Japanese domestic life again and again. Ozu has often been compared to Jane Austen, but would not a more appropriate analogy be the novels of Ivy Compton-Burnett. Both are the unique minimalists of their respective arts.

"Early summer" maybe the most unknown of the "Noriko trilogy" ("Late spring" (1949), "Early summer" (1951) and "Tokyo story" (1953)), it is however certainly worthwile.

The films of Ozu are all about family relations. In the Noriko trilogy they are all about Noriko, a single (never married or widow) woman in her late twenties played by Setsuko Hara (in "Tokyo story" however the parents in law of Noriko also play at least an equally important part).

An important question in the Noriko trilogy is if and with whom Noriko ought to marry. The pre war idea that the upbringing of a girl ends with her marriage when the responsibility transfers from the parents to the husband clashes with the post war idea of the individual freedom of the young woman.

We see this clash not only in the story line but also in the set pieces (very important in an Ozu movie because he works with a static camera). We see the old father meditating in a traditional Japanese house. In another scene we see Noriko dining with some of her friends (some married and others still single) in a very modern restaurant (that almost looks '70s style to me).

I am writing this minutes after I finished watching this lovely 1951 film on video, "Bakushu" ("Early Summer"). It is my first introduction to the work of Yasujiro Ozu, who directed and co-wrote the film. Ozu (b.1903, d.1963), who directed over 50 films from the 1920s-1960s, is probably most famous for his film "Tokyo Monogatari" ("Tokyo Story") of 1953, which is cited by some film critics as one of the ten best films made.

"Early Summer" is the second of three films in which Setsuko Hara plays an unmarried young woman, aged 28 in "Bakushu", named Noriko (also in Ozu's 1949 "Banshun" or "Late Spring", and in "Tokyo Story"). Her always beaming and confident smile, mischievous but loving laughter, and unselfish and loving manner are a constant joy to experience - she's the kind of person anybody would love to have as a friend. Noriko lives in post-WW II Tokyo as part of an extended family of her parents along her somewhat stern brother (a doctor) and his warm wife and their two spoiled young sons, aged approximately 3 and 6. The family partially depends on her income as an office clerk of sorts.

The central theme is the family's concern that carefree Noriko is unmarried. A proposal comes in from a man twelve years her senior; the family feels this is a great opportunity that they hope she will respond positively to. How she takes all this in stride and works through the gentle pressure of getting married is the plot of the film, but the understated, low-key and low-angle camera shots make what might otherwise be an unexceptional story sweetly captivating and delightful.

I am reminded in this film of my favorite director, Satyajit Ray. Like Ray, at least in "Bakushu", Ozu very effectively uses minimal dialogue, little or no music, and subtlety to draw the viewer into the setting and paint a realistic picture of everyday life.

I felt instant connection with Setsuko Hara as vivacious and indomitable Noriko. Her brother, Koichi (Chishu Ryu) was impeneterably unemotional, probably stereotypically so. Koichi's wife, Aya Tamura (Chikage Awashima) seemed a tamer version of Noriko, almost like an older sister from the same roots. The parents Shukichi Mamiya (Ichiro Sugai) and his wife Shige (Chieko Higashiyama) were realistically portrayed as being content in fulfilling their familial responsibilities, and provided an even emotional keel.

If this is at all typical of Yasujiro Ozu's films, then I am anxious to seek out and start to enjoy his many other creations. The film moves at life's pace, but Ozu transforms what might be a moderately interesting peek into one family's life into a rich and delightful tapestry.

--Dilip Barman Sept. 21, 2003

There are several repeating themes and symbols in Ozu's movies, especially the three films in his famous trilogy around the Japanese 50s where 'Early Summer' is the second installment. For example the film starts with a seashore shot, with waves hitting the sand in eternity and ends with the image of an endless field and a mountain in the background. There two vibrant images are prelude and ending to a film which superficially can be called a feminist family drama, an apparently banal story of a nice and independent girl in a traditional family under pressure to get married. And yet there is a meaning in the relation between the day-to-day family life and the universal dimension of nature - an almost sacred dimension I would say. Ozu treats family life with the full attention and respect that a great artist approaches big universal themes. For him the family is the basic building block of the Japanese society, and family relations are the fabric of the society. Day to day life is filmed with piety, as in a religious ceremony.

Recurring themes abound in 'Early Summer' and will be easily recognized by those who have seen the first film in the trilogy - 'Late Spring': Ozu's passion for trains. The theater as a component of the spiritual life, and as an institution that enables communication between the characters. No music or just minimalist soundtrack as the minuet track that accompanies the family scenes, enhancing the feelings of joy and ritualism. And of course, we have here again the magnificent Setsuko Hara, with the fragility, dignity and interior light that makes of her the Japanese Ingrid Bergman.

By telling an apparently minimalistic family story Ozu tells here again a story about the Japan he was living in, a country trying to come to terms with itself after an horrific war, defeat and occupation. What strikes at the first sight is the normality - the first few tens of minutes of the film could have happened in any of the Western countries of the period and almost nothing reminds the pressure of history around. And yet, this does exist. The elder parents carry with them the memory of a disappeared son. In a restaurant, at the end of a scene where the characters rejoice in jubilation at memories of their young age and past years, and about how the place remained unchanged a rare (at Ozu) move of camera discovers a wall hidden until then with a poster advertising an American airline. The message is low-key but yet distinct and clear - the victors of the war may have imposed their economic and political structures, but the level of pollution of the day-to-day life is relatively low and has little signification relative to the big picture. Eternal Japan survives, tradition, focus on work, and on family life is the key if this survival.

From a visual point of view 'Early Summer' is an even more sophisticated and beautiful film than 'Late Spring'. Many of the scenes of the interiors of the Japanese houses are magnificent, with a symmetric framing of the space, and successive walls and sliding doors that define the perspective and allow for concurrent movements or dialogs to happen in parallel giving a feeling of complexity in the good sense of the word, and helping actually explain the intrigue and progress it all around. Acting is superb, with some of the actors returning here from previous films of Ozu, who directs their words, silence, and movements with sympathy and deep understanding. Even if some of the dialogs at the end of the film are too explicit and sounded didactic and melodramatic to my contemporary and 'Western' taste, by the time we have gotten there we are already knowing and trusting the characters too well so that we can forgive them for speaking a few wooden language words.

It's a simple and sensible film, and a good introduction for those who start exploring the Ozu universe.