Akibiyori

Even though the comparison is obviously intentional, Yasujiro Ozu's 1960 film is really a variation on his classic 1949 father-daughter drama, "Late Spring". He goes further with this parallel by having the wondrous Setsuko Hara, who played the daughter in the original film, play the mother in this one, even though only eleven years have elapsed. Gone is the alternately feisty, flirtatious and petulant manner that marked her earlier performance as Noriko, and in its place is that remarkable stillness and quiet warmth in her portrayal of Akiko that marked the best of Hara's later performances. She was barely forty during filming, yet she carries the gravitas of her role with uncommon ease. What remains consistent between her two performances is the unearthly devotion which ties the characters intractably to the world in which they have grown accustomed.

Ozu wrote the quietly perceptive script with longtime collaborator Kogo Noda, and the filmmaker's trademark touches - the narrative ellipses, the lack of melodrama, the low camera angles - are all here in their emotionally resonant glory. This time, the character of Akiko has such an easy sisterly bond with her daughter Ayako that neither has an interest in dating or marriage. While Akiko's situation is more or less accepted by society, Ayako's single status is a point of consternation, especially for three friends of Akiko's late husband, all of whom express feelings of unrequited love for the unavailable Akiko. They are jointly intent on finding Ayako a suitable husband and find one in Goto, a young, well-mannered bachelor with a suitable career. Akiko, however, demurs at the possibility of matrimony which leads the story through its inevitable paces.

Yôko Tsukasa is pretty and affecting as Ayako, though honestly no match for the younger Hara in the earlier film. More of that uninhibited spirit is present in Mariko Okada, who plays Ayako's friend and colleague Yuriko. She has a terrifically abrasive and amusing confrontation with the trio of embarrassed matchmakers, and the result comes across as a bit of an imbalance to the viewer now since Yuriko's Westernized independence is more compelling than Ayako's more innate diffidence. Adding more to the comedic aspects of the story, Shin Saburi, Nabuo Nakamura and Ryuji Kita play the matchmaking trio almost like a Shakespearean comedy troupe. Interestingly, Ozu uses a decidedly Italianate-sounding score to underscore the action, a nice unpredictable touch. This well-preserved film is not as essential as "Late Spring", but it is a worthy addition to Ozu's filmography.

This story is basically a retelling of the excellent "late Spring", except now the always engaging Setsuko Hara plays the mother in the film rather than the daughter. The daughter, the beautiful Ayako played by Yoko Tsukasa, is being told its time to marry. Three friends of her late father (essentially uncles) attempt to arrange a suitable partner for her. Ozu has updated his films before and he always manages to keep them fresh. This time, it is both humorous as well as poignant. A great addition to the story is Ayako's best friend Yuriko, a spitfire who isn't afraid to speak her mind. I especially like the relationship of Akiko (Hara) and Ayako as mother and daughter. They seem very comfortable with each other. In the previous "Late Spring", there was more tension. That is what gives "late Spring" the nod as the better film, it is a masterpiece. In this film the acting is uniformly good to great and there are some standout scenes, especially between the always beautiful, gifted actress Setsuko Hara and Yoko Tsukasa. There is also a great scene between Yuriko and the three men who are trying to find a suitor for Ayako. By all means, watch this film, but don't miss "late Spring". This film is available on the 5 disc "Late Ozu" set and both the film and box set are highly recommended.

(1960) Late Autumn (In Japanese with English subtitles) DRAMA

Yasujirô Ozu's remaking of "Late Spring", which is based on a novel written by Kôgo Noda called "Chichi to musume" and Ton Satomi about pressures to a 27 year old daughter to marry despite her being objectionable. In this case, the time is 1960, and the environment is more current except that the roles are now reversed, which in the 1949 original theatrical version, it was the daughter feeling pressure by her father, but in this version it's the mother who's played by Setsuko Hara who was also in the original, playing as the daughter felt pressured to marry by her father's associates. Anyways, in this scenario, it's starts off with the aftermath of a funeral, 27 year old Ayako Miwa and her mother Akiko Miwa (Setsuko Hara) have only each other now that that Akiko's husband of the family has been buried. And while there, some of her father's closest working associates see that Akiko's daughter is old enough to get married since she's 27 years old. They then try to accomplish this task by using deception, manipulation and lies to see to it that she settles down even though her mother would be lonely without her, and that the three grown men setting this up already have spouses and servants living with them. As much as I love to see Japanese icon actress Setsuko Hara in color instead of in black and white, this film still felt long since the film excuses the actions of it's working associates about marrying off a 27 or 28 year old woman who's not even related to any of them since theirs an adage in Japan that single girls will become 'old maids' which is only a myth. And instead of handling their own their own problems, why does it concern them to have her get married as quickly as possible which the film doesn't address this question as actress Hara was allowed to put in some of her two cents in, but only for so many scenes. Not as good as "Tokyo Story" since the situations feels much more forced and imposed upon than 1949 "Late Spring".

In many ways a retread of his earlier masterpiece Late Spring, which dealt with the relationship between a widowed father and his marry-able daughter, Ozu returned to familiar territory as he often did late in his career for a look at the flip-side. Here, the mother is widowed and desires to see her daughter married and happy. Three friends determine to intervene, leaving a trail of misunderstandings and hurt feelings in their attempt to appease all involved.

While this is certainly a familiar story for Ozu to tell, he somehow manages to inject new life into it every time out. Through a beautiful color palette and his famous visual style, Ozu explores a world of postwar Japan that finally appears to be picking itself up fifteen years after World War II. Western dress and behavior continues to seep into Japanese culture and Ozu seems to be picking up on the rapid evolution of change within his country throughout these late career works. His lack of interest in plot and storytelling leaves the viewer more time to focus on the atmosphere, the context in which the story is set. The result is a very pensive and serene feeling as one realizes that no matter what time or place, humans will always desire certain things. Companionship, love and happiness will never go out of style, even for widowed women.

Well, it was bound to happen eventually: The more films I viewed from noted Japanese auteur Yasujiro Ozu, there was going to come a time when my well of interest ran dry. I have now seen ten of his films, and Ozu seems unique among filmmakers, even the most praised, by being essentially the anti-Billy Wilder. Where Wilder's mind was so brilliantly scattered that he did pictures in nearly every conceivable genre, and did them well, Ozu was always more interested in mining different stories out of the same cloth, hopping from patch to patch on a quilt of nuanced familial drama. Where Wilder branched out, Ozu dug his roots in deep. He had an exclusive stable of actors, comprising some of the most talented and, like their helmsman, subtly versatile actors in the business, including the transcendent Chishu Ryu and the great Sestuko Hara, appearing here as the mother to the always-adorable Yoko Tsukasa, essaying the role that Hara herself brought to life in Late Spring. Ryu has the remarkable ability to present to us a man of any age with very little in the way of physical alterations (in the span of five years, he played father, brother and grandfather to Hara and was utterly convincing in all). Hara has the exact opposite gift: That of an ageless wonder. Early on in Late Autumn, a comment is made that Hara and her daughter Tsukasa look more like sisters than mother-daughter, and it's absolutely true. In the eleven-year span from Spring to Autumn, Hara has swapped roles but kept the same face, and she brings her A-game yet again, looking more weary and fatigued than ever before.

But there's a problem. Where Ozu's style had always seemed evocative and direct, here is seems...stilted and awkward. The use of direct address in discussions seems disjointed and stiff. What felt emotionally confrontational in Late Spring comes off here as almost amateurish, merely content to blandly cut back and forth between one talking head and another. The fact that he's done that all his career perhaps says something about this film as an individual entity. Or perhaps it's just become all too familiar. When you're looking to derive a myriad of tales from the same few thematic points, there's always the danger of indifference; having the same actors play similar characters doing similar things in similar ways in movies with similar titles, it's a testament to his brilliance that he managed to make it more than one film, but here, it all just strikes of creative exhaustion: He's seemingly run out of stories to the point that he's now reworking the similar stories he's already done, as this is almost directly a remake of his 1949 masterpiece Late Spring, except mostly from the female perspective. While it appears to be a monumental shift for such a gradual director (I still remember first experiencing Tokyo Story and being so startled by its singular tracking shot that I was shaken to my core), actually far too little is new. Most of the motions and emotions we are presented with were all essentially inferred in Late Spring, and this seems if nothing else, an unnecessary diversion to a place we're already been.

Now this is not to say that the film is a complete dud. Everyone involved is so talented that they can't help but stumble into several moments of effective heartstrain, most notable the touching restraint of the final shot, but I just can't shake the feeling that with Late Autumn, instead of hopping to a new stitch on the quilt, he's stepping right back onto trampled-down, treaded ground. Where Late Spring presented this story and devastated me, going right to my heart and laying me out flat. To Late Autumn I'm a bit more...subdued. I never connected to the characters or the situation in any tangible or meaningful way, and my response to the film was less "Holy crap" and more "ho-hum".

{Grade: 6.5/10 (B-/C+) / #24 (of 34) of 1960}