Ozu: Transient things, and lasting memories.

Ozu truly wanted to show the man’s perspective, for it is always through the men’s conversations, (often at the table), that they discuss women. Nevertheless, in both Tokyo Story and An Autumn Afternoon he does not cease to depict many of the women as loving and devoted, yet independent and very bright. I find this non-traditionalist when fitted both in context and time. Yet, the more salient things from Ozu was his delicacy in approaching profound and ephimeral themes such as family relationships and marriage.

Many scenes seem reduced in space, yet not confined, for Ozu has a way of demarcating the frame as if it were a picture. Many shots include lines of doorframes and unfocused objects in the foreground, reminding the viewer that we are observing into someone’s house. It allowed the viewer to sit close to the group of chatting men, on the other side of a table, in another room, almost as if we were a child. Many low camera shots open the space of the often small rooms. Particularly in An Autumn Afternoon, any place other than the father’s house seems reduced. Yet, the theme of the film is to give the children “space.” The eldest brother and his wife are learning to inhabit the space they occupy as human beings, together and as individuals. However, these are glimpses Ozu gave us, for the rest are conditioned in relation to the father. We never see any scene from the perspective other than the father. We especially never see the perspective of his daughter, who occupies so much place in his life. However the space his daughter occupies only increases in magnitude after he realizes he must encourage her to leave. Before that, the servile role the daughter assumed was similar to the angle shots from which the viewers observed the men drinking and eating at the tables: meek, docile, subtle, shooting from next to a coffee table or from the next room…similar to the child that is there yet not there, for he does not occupy as much space and does not intervene. The grand space the daughter occupied in the father’s life is able to take its real dimension when, towards the end, the camera finally shoots the breadth of her entire room. The father observers, internalizes, and deals with what seems Ozu’s main themes in both movies, the inconstancies of life.

Life’s impermanence is truly demonstrated in a Tokyo Story. It can be the story of all family’s. Therefore, some film-makers could be tempted to “spice” it up by adding melodramatic elements. Ozu on the other hand, chooses to focus on the undertones of very profound moments that are often washed away with the banalities of life. A common occurrence in today’s society is to exchange ones elders, who are already transient, with even more transient things in life. The day to day occupations are incapable of holding memories the same way the dynamics between a parent and their children do. The connection between the past and the present must be bridged with memories created between both generations, which serve to simultaneously continue to give life to the other, in the face of impermanence. Who are the memories for? Perhaps to aid the last few breaths of a dying parent, perhaps to give the child a renewed force when the parents are no longer there. The act of creating memories between parent and child is a simultaneous attempt to create something lasting through space and time. Memory and appreciation are the only things that truly occupy “space” or significance in Ozu’s two films, and the only “permanent” characteristics of the transient relationships. They are the only things we can hold on to when nothing else rests, if we choose to of course, and that is the option Ozu is giving us.

He also chooses to portray this by purposely leaving out those melodramatic elements that could serve to “spice up” the story. For example, the fact that the wedding scenes in An Autumn Afternoon are purposely left out bring the focus once again back to the main character, the father. I felt Ozu’s selection of scenes contributed to the subtleness of Japanese film-making, and consequently to the closeness with the main character. By eliminating sensationalist parts, the audience focuses more on the undertones of the feelings, and brings Ozu’s subtle and ephemeral themes to permanent life.