An Autumn Afternoon [Sanma no aji] [The Taste of Mackerel Pike]

(Japan 1962)

“We are alone in life. Always alone.”

— Sakuma

If one film perfectly captures what solitude, melancholia, and acceptance of things for what they are feels like, it has to be Yasujirō Ozu’s gorgeous and quietly contemplative An Autumn Afternoon [秋刀魚の味]. Framing death and loneliness in such metaphors as war, alcohol, marriage, aging, and the global impact of postwar America, this one packs a punch that hits like a feather but still leaves a mark.

Shūhei Hirayama (Chishū Ryū) is a middle aged man who emits an air of defeat, as if life has disappointed him. A widower with three adult kids, only one of them, elder son Kōichi (Keiji Sada), is married — and he and his wife (Mariko Okada) have some messed up priorities, especially when it comes to money. No one seems interested in daughter Michiko (Shima Iwashita). Who knows what the deal is with younger son Kazuo (Shin’ichirō Mikami)? Hirayama bides his time between home, work, and dining with former classmates Kawai (Nobuo Nakamura), Horie (Ryūji Kita), Sugai (Tsūzai Sugawara), and Watanabe (Masao Oda) at Sugai’s restaurant. They mostly drink sake, reminisce, and make fun of each other. Horie’s new wife, who’s much younger than he, provides ample material for discussion.

A former professor, Sakuma (Eijirō Tōno), comes to dinner one night. He has way too much to drink. Hirayama and Kawai drive him home, where they meet his spinster daughter Tomoko (Haruko Sugimura). They learn he’s not doing well, operating a jank noodle joint in a low rent neighborhood to make ends meet. This gets Hirayama thinking about his own family and his obligations there.

An Autumn Afternoon is a film you see to experience its mood — not to be entertained. The narrative is engaging and plotted nicely, but it’s only half the story. Ozu uses composition to convey his points as much he uses words and characters. Long shots. Hallways, stairs, and windows. Army green and brown hues, a very ’60s sitcom look. Colors, solids, patterns, and textures. All of this is just as important as the narrative. More important, actually.

Roger Ebert offered the best description of Ozu I’ve seen to date: “He is a man with a profound understanding of human nature, about which he makes no dramatic statements. We are here, we hope to be happy, we want to do well, we are locked within our aloneness, life goes on.” (http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-an-autumn-afternoon-1962). Amen. This is the essence of An Autumn Afternoon, and it’s beautiful.

With Teruo Yoshida, Noriko Maki, Kuniko Miyake, Kyōko Kishida, Michiyo Kan, Daisuke Katō, Shinobu Asaji

Production: Shochiku

Distribution: Shochiku, Shochiku Films of America (USA), Criterion Collection (USA), Janus Films (USA)

113 minutes
Not rated

(iTunes rental) A-

https://www.criterion.com/films/784-an-autumn-afternoon

Bakushū [Early Summer]

(Japan 1951)

After a presentation of shorts, the George Eastman Museum kicked off its third annual Nitrate Picture Show with a Japanese drama, Yasujirō Ozu’s quiet and gracefully understated Bakushū [麦秋]. In the context of midcentury Japan, Ozu explores the generational clash between tradition and progress, and both the possibilities and the casualties brought on by the latter. Opening with something that deals with changing values was an interesting choice on multiple levels.

Noriko (Setsuko Hara) lives in postwar Tokyo with her parents, Shūkichi (Ichirō Sugai) and Shige (Chieko Higashiyama); her older brother, physician Kōichi (Chishū Ryū); his wife, Fumiko (Kuniko Miyake); and their two unruly young sons, Minoru (Zen Murase) and Isamu (Isao Shirosawa). Noriko earns her own living as a secretary and contributes to the household, maintaining her own active social life. She seems happy, or at least content. Still, her more conventional family is concerned because she’s 28 years old and still isn’t married.

Noriko is a good sport about her family members’ not-so-subtle reminders, but the heat intensifies when an elderly uncle (Kokuten Kōdō) stays for a visit. Her chauvinistic boss (Shūji Sano) plays matchmaker, introducing her to Mr. Matanabe, a business associate in his 40s (all of his interactions occur off camera, so we never see him). He proposes. Naturally, Noriko’s family pushes her to accept his offer, which she considers even though the prospect doesn’t excite her.

Enter childhood friend, Kenkichi (Hiroshi Nihon’yanagi), who returns to the neighborhood with his daughter. He’s a widow in between job assignments. Noriko suddenly develops her own idea about which path she wants to take, much to the dismay of her family.

Bakushū is not a kinetic film—it’s slow, and the action centers on mundane routine activities like preparing meals, eating, conversing, working, and getting ready for bed. Some of the plot’s significant events aren’t even shown. Ozu favors low angles and wide, distant shots. He keeps the camera pretty still. He doesn’t use a lot of sets. On top of that, it takes some effort to keep track of the many characters.

Admittedly, I found myself zoning out at the beginning. Once I settled into Ozu’s rhythm, though, I got more interested in Bakushū. Some of the plot elements make the story seem slightly ahead of its time, but the core themes are universal. This is a family drama; the family unit ultimately falls apart, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. The family portrait at the end closes things on a bittersweet note. I sensed more than a nod to the burgeoning westernization of Japanese society.

Bakushū fits nicely into the midcentury films I’ve developed a taste for. I never heard of it or Ozu, but I’ve already looked him up. I’m interested in seeing more of his work. As for this print, it was in all likelihood the very first feature film I’ve ever seen on nitrate (we’re not counting the shorts). The picture was crisp, but I must confess: its quality didn’t wow me like some others I saw after this.

With Chikage Awashima, Kuniko Igawa, Haruko Sugimura, Seiji Miyaguchi

Production: Takeshi Yamamoto

Distribution: Shochiku Company Limited, The Voyager Company (USA), Janus Films (USA)

124 minutes
Not rated

(Dryden Theatre) B-

Nitrate Picture Show