Yasujirô Ozu‘s ‘Tokyo Story‘ was made in 1953, the year of my birth. 67 years have passed since then, the film is the same age as me. It addresses a recurring theme of Ozu‘s creation – the disintegration of the family structure under the pressure of the evolution of modern society (some call it progress). It is a film about the relationships between parents and children, about caring for the elderly and caring for those who come after us, about the time we dedicate to the family, about love and loneliness. Today, when I also have in care my 90-year-old mother, when I am a father and a grandfather, this film is perfectly actual for me and talks about situations that I experienced and feelings and emotions I went through in my life, which started in the year the movie was made. At the same time, it is a film that describes more eloquently than a library of historical books the situation of Japan eight years after the end of the war that changed the course of history and reshaped the character of the nation. The characterization of ”Tokyo Story‘ as one of the best films ever made is not exaggerated.
The story. Shukici and Tomi Hirayama live in a remotevillage located a day train ride away from Tokyo. They are old, they have raised five children, three boys (one of whom died in the war) and two girls. Only the youngest girl remained with them, life and careers took the other away to Tokyo and Osaka. We are in 1953, people were still writing letters and sending them by mail, long distance telephone calls or telegrams were the means of rapid communication used only in emergencies. The elderly couple go on a trip to the great metropolis to visit their children and meet their grandchildren. They are received with apparent respect and Japanese ceremonial, but in reality the children (the physician son, the beautician daughter) don’t have much time for them and they don’t even know how and what to communicate. The differences of generations, of lifestyles and environments have their say. Shared traditions and memories are not enough to create true cohesion. Feelings exist, but the priorities of the active and busy life of the townspeople take precedence, at least until the mother’s health proves to be fragile and the children will be the ones to make their way back to the village where they started their lives.
Ozu‘s style is perfectly polished in this film. The frames are fixed most of the time (only once I think, the camera moves) and the world is seen from the height of the eyes, like in paintings representing mostly indoors. Each scene becomes a refined visual composition, a setting with geometric frames in which each object adds functionality, balance, beauty. Within these frames the characters move and live, communicating with each other but also with the spectators represented by the camera. The acting interpretations are magnificent, I think I could write a whole story about each character, that much I got to know them at the end of the two hours of watching. I will mention two actors who I think are making top creations here: Chishû Ryû, the actor who accompanied Ozu throughout his career and who featured in 52 of his 54 films in the role of the father, and Setsuko Hara, the muse and Ozu‘s favorite actress in the final part of his career, who plays the luminous role of Noriko, the elders’ daughter-in-law, and the widow of their fallen son, who turns out to be closer and more devoted to them than their true children. When the camera is taken outside (maybe about 10% of the film’s duration) we get a glimpse of a Japan in transformation, a Japan after the storm, with obvious social and landscape changes, a world where family, tradition, and human feelings struggle to survive. ‘Tokyo Story‘ is a film that is very japanese and very universal at the same time, one of those cinematographic works that is destined for eternity both as a document and as a perennial human message.