Updates, Live

Saturday, November 28, 2015

Setsuko Hara Passed Away

Setsuko Hara in Late Spring (1949)
(source: comicbookmovie)
no copyright infringement intended


She has been for me the best actress ever. I choose here a scene from The Ball at the Anjo House, a movie made in 1947. It is about an aristocratic family from Japan who after WWII loose their status. They offer a last ball, before leaving their estate, confiscated by the new authorities. The father, overwhelmed by the whole situation, of his country, of his family, intends to commit suicide. Setsuko Hara is in this movie his daughter, and will know how to act with determination and elegance. Great scene! There are no subtitles, but, believe me, it's no need.





An obituary appeared in today's NY Times:




(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

Labels:

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Setsuko Hara in a Kurosawa's Movie from 1946

Photo of Setsuko Hara from 1946
with her rōmaji signature
(source: Ernie K. in Mary and Leo)
no copyright infringement intended

I found this story in a blog that I came upon looking for more info on Setsuko Hara. It was 1946. Ernie K. was by that time in the Army and was touring Japan with a group of fellow G.I.s. One of the days they came in front of a film studio, it was by pure chance. A movie was shot inside. They waited for a break in the filming, and then Ernie, who spoke a bit of Japanese, as he had studied it at the University, started to talk to a young actress, who in turn knew a bit of English, as she had briefly visited the Hollywood before the war. Ernie was from L.A., the capital of the movie world, so there was a .little bit of what to talk about, and the discussion lasted ten minutes or so, with him trying his broken Japanese, to be answered in her little English. Eventually she did what actresses do in such occasions, she gave him a photo and signed it on the back. As she was very nice and very polite (the way she would remain for all her life), the signature was in rōmaji. The actress was Setsuko Hara, and the movie on the make was No Regrets for Our Youth (Waga seishun ni kuinashi). Director was Akira Kurosawa. So it goes!



No Regrets for Our Youth
clip of filming
(video by Leo Wong)


The movie was shot in black and white, and it is interesting that this clip of filming is in colors. I didn't have the chance to see the movie (neither did Ernie, by the way), so I could speak here based only on some very mixed reviews from the web. I found a very informative text on a blog dedicated to Japanese films, history and more (Vermillion and One Nights). I found then eighteen reviews on imdb, and some on Amazon. Then four reviews on Rotten Tomatoes.

The movie was following very loosely two political events from the Japan of the thirties and forties, building upon them a love story. It was the Kyoto University Incident from 1933 and then the Sorge Ring Incident from 1941. In 1933 a professor Takigawa had been expelled from the Kyoto University after lecturing about Tolstoy's Resurrection. That had been enough to be considered a Communist! The irony was that actually Takigawa was a staunched conservative and he manifested himself as such after the war, when he came again at the University. As for the Sorge Incident, the movie considered one of the ring members, the Japanese Hotzumi Ozaki, arrested in 1941 for espionage in favor of the Soviet Union. Eventually Ozaky was condemned to death and hanged, in 1944. The two events had no connection at all in reality, while in the film a young woman made the conjunction. She was the daughter of a University professor portrayed after Takigawa. And she also was the lover, then the wife, and then the widow of a radical anti-war activist portrayed after Ozaki. The young woman was played by Setsuko Hara.

Here is in short: Yukie, the spoiled daughter of Professor Yagihara, is courted by two students, Noge, an absolute idealist, and Itokara, an idealist having the sense of the relative; the militarist regime comes to power, Yagihara is expelled from University, Noge is briefly arrested, and Itokara decides to serve the new masters, eventually becoming a prosecutor; after some years Yukie meets Noge again and they become lovers; this doesn't last long, because Noge is arrested for being in a spy ring; he dies in prison and Yukie moves to the village of Noge's parents, where she works hard along them; with the end of the war, freedom is restored in the defeated Japan and the flowers blossom again (Claudio Carvalho).

Most of the reviewers criticized this movie for a too heavy political tone, a too linear, too Manichean approach. A movie with an obvious agenda. It was made in 1946 when an American censorship reigned supreme over the Japanese movie industry: the almighty SCAP (Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers), through its Civil Information and Education section, was severely censoring the films, not only eliminating any content considered inappropriate in the new epoch (Samurai films were simply no more allowed), more than that imposing what to say and how. The goal was to re-educate the Japanese public to the democratic values.

The list of banished topics was actually very long: any criticism of Allied countries and of SCAP itself, any form of Imperial propaganda (here were included the Samurai films), defense of war criminals, defense of any undemocratic regimes (i.e. regimes other than those from the Allied countries), any reference to the atomic bomb, any reference to the black market, any reference to eventual tensions between Allied countries (i.e. between US and Soviet Union) (wiki). No wonder then that  this movie was so politicized, it couldn't be other way.

For Kurosawa this was one of his first movies: he had made his debut as a director in 1943. As for Setsuko Hara, it was her 33rd film: she had started to play in 1935 at the age of fifteen. The great works of Kurosawa would begin in a couple of years: Drunken Angel in 1948, then Rashomon in 1950, and all that followed. Thus No Regrets for Our Youth should deserve a watch at least as a document about the beginnings of a great director, to find there in nuce the traits of his genius.

It's more than that. All reviewers agree that Setsuko Hara played here a great role, very different than the roles from the movies of Ozu.


We witness Yukie's personal development from a spoiled girl to a woman willing to risk incredible hardship to be independent.
(review of Gerard D. Launay) 


I could hardly believe the actress playing the mercurial Yukie would soon be playing the serene and self-effacing Noriko in Yasujirō Ozu's home drama classics such as Early Summer and Tokyo Story. Such was Setsuko Hara's versatility and malleability that she could move easily between Ozu's saintly goddess and Akira Kurosawa's passionate, reluctant heroine in this 1946 anti-war melodrama.
(review of Ed Uyeshima) 


Setusko Hara, known in Japan as the Eternal Virgin, is simply incredible in No Regrets for our Youth I am more accustomed to seeing her in Ozu's films, playing the light-hearted and affectionate daughter. Here, she shows incredible strength in body and spirit, finding her heart by hard labor in a farmer's field. Kurosawa obviously saw something in her that Ozu did not, and brought out a surprising side to the lovely and popular actress.
(review of Zack Davisson)


To say about Setsuko Hara that she was the Millennium Actress would be no exaggeration, and from all that I've read about this film, she showed  in No Regrets for Our Youth some sides of her amazing talent that haven't been used in most of her other movies. I wouldn't say in none of them, as she played also in The Idiot, in 1951. But that was directed also by Kurosawa!


(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

(Kurosawa)

Labels: ,

Friday, March 30, 2012

Yasujirō Ozu and Setsuko Hara

Setsuko Hara in a cast photo (?)
(Bôrô no kesshitai - Watchtower Suicide Squad)
New Year 1943, Yingpu (North Korea - Mandchuria border)

no copyright infringement intended
(http://httpmyblogblogspotcom-ambrose.blogspot.com/2011/07/new-year-1943-actress-setsuko-hara.html)







(Japanese Cinema)

Labels: ,

Saturday, April 03, 2010

Millennium Actress

no copyright infringement intended
(http://dan42.com/millennium.actress/)



Maybe the greatest movie actress of Japan - some considered her the Century Actress - born at the beginning at the twenties, starting to play in her teens, spanning a prodigious career over three decades of movie history, to vanish at her peak! She gave weak reasons (or no reasons at all) for her decision to leave the public life; her anonymity has been total ever since.

Decades have passed, new generations of public came and little by little the great actress was forgotten. Of course, film critics are still mentioning her name when analyzing the movies of the forties and fifties; but they are talking at the past, as of a person who lived in a bygone era.

Has everybody forgotten her? No, of course not, there will be always people passionate for her movies and fascinated by her personality: people dreaming to find her and to tell her their fascination.

And here is the place where Sennen joyû (Millennium Actress) starts: a devoted fan succeeds to find her and she accepts to be interviewed by him. As they start talking, the past comes back in force and overwhelms the present. Scenes from all her movies, and what happened behind the scenes: she was playing the lead role, he was just a young assistant by then. The present is no more, their memories join in a unique flow. The old star and her fan live again the past, this time the meaning of those moments comes enriched: she is now aware of his presence on the plateau. Actually the past is not repeated: the force of their memories makes the past a continuous moment, time looses any significance. There is no more a succession of moments; there are only moments charged with emotional value, that remain forever.

Kon Satoshi is an Animé film director,which was fortunate for this movie, as he kept this way total control over the story and was able to blur past and present, life on the plateau and life outside it; more than that, he was able this way to change completely the image style of each reenacted scene in accordance to the specific period; Jidaigeki movies from the twenties and early thirties, propaganda movies from the period of Manchurian occupation, dramas from late forties and fifties, Sci-Fi movies from the sixties on. What resulted was a fascinating history of Japanese cinema in its most significant moments!

Is the feminine personage in the movie an allusion to Setusko Hara? The director did not confirm this suggestion. Nevertheless I would say yes, for many reasons, the main reason being that for me it is only Setsuko Hara who deserves to be named the Millennium Actress.

I would like to dedicate this post to Yoko Shibata. She is a young Japanese video artist, passionate of the movies with Setsuko Hara, and of all great Japanese cinema.



(Kon Satoshi)

(The Thousand faces of HANAFUBUKI)

Labels: , ,

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Bikes Seeking For the Spring To Come



I am so sorry this video is no longer available! It was puting together two famous bike scenes from two Japanese movies made in 1949 (Late Spring of Yasujiro Ozu and The Green Mountains of Tadashi Imai). Setsuko Hara is the main personage in both. The author of the video uses as musical background the score of the second movie.

The mood in the two scenes is slightly different. In Last Spring, the two are very good friends and maybe love each other, without being aware. It would be an impossible love: he is engaged to another girl and about to get married. But, in the moment they ride their bicycles, their eyes express the enthusiasm, the happiness of their true feelings that they don't dare to recognize. In The Green Mountains everybody's free for love. So while in Late Spring the mood is discreetly sad, the second movie is full of optimism and joy.

Well, I can give you a video with the scene from The Green Mountains:


Though different in mood, the two scenes share the same desire for love, and also in both scenes the bikes seem to know more than the people who ride them: it's like Bike Race Seeking For the Spring To Come.




(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

Labels:

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Setsuko Hara in One of Her First Movies



Setsuko Hara in one of her first movies (the fifth, to be very precise): it's Atarashiki Tsuchi (The New Earth), made in 1936 - 37, and this movie has quite a story. I'm not speaking about what happens in the movie; it's about what happened to the movie: overloaded by a heavy political message, its fate followed all political turmoils of that epoch.

The New Earth was a German-Japanese co-production aiming to symbolize the power of the alliance between the two countries, based on shared values, the Volk ohne Raum and all that stuff. The title (The New Earth, or The New Soil) was referring to Manchuria: the plot presented in the most idyllic way the colonialist ambitions of Japan.

Setsuko Hara was playing the role of a girl (descendant of an old samurai family) whose heart was filled with a chaste love; the chosen one was a young Japanese just returned from studies in Germany.



As it is the case in all love stories the heart of the young man vacillated for a while between Misuko (Setsuko Hara) and Gerda (played by Ruth Eweler), a German young lady who (as it happened) was traveling to Japan right then. But (of course) Gerda had a high understanding of political correctness imperatives (well, as they were understood in Berlin and Tokyo those times), so she convinced Teruo (that was the name of the hero) to marry Misuko.

Setsuko Hara and Ruth Eweler


So, the wedding followed and the new family moved to Manchuria (where else?), to bring there the Japanese lights. As simple as that! You'd say it's creepy, but look at some war movies made in the epoch in other countries as well.



The movie had two directors: the German Arnold Fanck (famous for his Bergfilms that made known the name of Leni Riefenstahl), and the Japanese Mansaku Itami, a specialist of jidaigeki (the word used in Japan to designate period dramas).

The issue was that each director had totally opposite views about how to make the movie. Fanck was fascinated by Nippon feudal traditions (the way Europeans knew about them), while Itami had enough of all that stuff and liked to mock the traditions: his jidaigeki movies were actually kind of satires, with personages trying to continue revolute behaviors in modern Japan.

No wonder the two directors went each on his own way with filming and finally two versions emerged. Even the title was not the same. A movie with a plethora of titles! Die Tochter des Samurai, and Die Liebe der Mitsu were used in Berlin, while The New Earth or The New Soil were intended for English speaking countries.

More than that: it could sound weird today, but in 1937 Nazi Germany had still diplomatic relations with the Republic of China, and the Chinese Embassy issued a strong protest against the way the movie was presenting the Japanese occupation of Manchuria. Thus any reference to this was censored in Berlin!

I found a very interesting essay on the web, telling the history of this movie.

Well, you like it or not, this was the first movie where Setsuko Hara had a leading role. You could say that in Germany as well as in Japan Arnold Fanck proved really a good eye in discovering great talents!



For me, searching materials about The New Earth was also the occasion to find info about an earlier film with Setsuko Hara: Kochiyama Soshun, made by Sadao Yamanaka; the history of the movies made by Yamanaka is fascinating and I promise to come on them as soon as I can!

(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

Labels:

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Late Spring - The Authority of Nietzsche



When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the lake of his home...


Let's discuss one of the scenes from Ozu's Banshun (Late Spring): the last night in Kyoto. Father (Chishu Ryu) and daughter (Setsuko Hara) are preparing their baggage as the following day they would leave for Tokyo.

They had taken for the trip a lot of books and now they are packaging them. So sometimes they hand books one another, as his books should go into his baggage and her into hers.

And suddenly the daughter said one of the most touching sentences ever, father, even if you get married I'd like to remain with you; I want to be always on your side.

This is too much for him: how could he possibly say no? He is just a father, just a poor being, and he knows very well that he would actually not get re-married, that he would remain alone for the rest of his life.

However he must say no.

It happens that exactly in that moment he has the book of Nietzsche in his hands, Also Sprach Zarathustra. And what follows is like the father takes his forces from that book. He speaks much longer than he did for all the rest of the movie; and he speaks with authority. It is about her duty to build together with her future husband their happiness; it will not be easy, it never was; it will take long, long years, and it will be hard; that is her duty in the world.

How can he speak with such determination?

It is not his will, it is the will of Nietzsche! Unconsciously, he places himself under the moral authority of the great philosopher and he finds there the courage to say what needs to be said.




(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

(Nietzsche)

(Richard Strauss)

Labels: , , , , ,

Friday, February 20, 2009

Micro-stasis in Ozu's Movies


I have talked about the transcendental structure of Ozu's movies: banality of everyday, cascading disruptions up tot he point of explosion, stasis. He also uses sometimes transcendental micro-structures, within the global frame, just to balance the cinematic tension.

Here is a fine example: in Banshun (Late Spring), after Noriko was convinced to get married, she and her father make a farewell trip to Kyoto. One of the last evenings starts with a warm discussion between them. Noriko is commenting the events of the day, her father is listening with his usual smile, mix of sophisticated politeness and sincere kindness. From a moment on, her talk is sliding in a direction her father would rather avoid, about her desire to remain unmarried to continue to take care of him, even if he would get re-married. He cannot tell her the truth, that he doesn't think at a new marriage. He cannot insist in lying either: it would be too painful for him, to stand her reproachful eyes. The only outcome for him is to fake falling asleep.

So Noriko hears his quiet snoring and you can read on her face a slight frustration: it is the moment of disruption.

The camera focuses immediately on a superb China vase in the background: the moment of stasis. Her worries would not find a resolve, and daughters leaving fathers to start a new family have been since the beginnings and will be to the end, while that perfect artwork stands there defying time.


---



And here is another example of micro-stasis in the same movie: Noriko's father is talking to his friend and complaining about the fate of fathers - it's pointless to have a daughter, when she grows up someone other will take her as wife, and you remain alone. But we did the same, observes the friend and both of them start smiling. In that moment the camera moves to the yard in front of them: the yard of a temple, with sand and stones. What are worth our sorrows in face of eternity?



(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

Labels: , , , ,

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Transcendental Experience Captured in a Movie

(Setsuko Hara and Yôko Tsukasa in Ozu's Kohayagawa-ke no aki - The End of Summer)

There are three categories of transcendental experience:
  1. direct experience
  2. indirect experience
  3. active search of the transcendental
Mystical movies dream at the contact with the Holly One. Actually direct experience of the transcendental is each contact of us with something that transcends our immanent. Milorad Pavić gave a crazy example in his Dictionary of the Khazars: the fly ignores humans till one of us flicks it on his palm. Well, this sounds funny, but think at the Dead Man of Jarmusch: a parable about our entrance in the transcendent!

Transcendental movies follow the indirect experience: an image suggesting the transcendent (while the active search of the transcendental is the realm of religious movies).

Paul Schrader uses in his book about Transcendental Style in Film the Eliade - Wölfflin model. Let's note here that it is a sui generis model. Eliade and Wölfflin never met.

But their association in the book of Schrader makes sense: in order to describe accurately the transcendental in a movie there was need of an historian of religions (Eliade) along with an art historian (Wölfflin).

Eliade used the term of hierophany (the appearance of the sacre) in opposition with theophany (the appearance of divinity). Which gives actually the difference of meaning between direct and indirect contact with the transcendent.

Wölfflin used the term of closed (tectonic) form in opposition to open (a-tectonic form). The term of tectonic was used by Wölfflin to designate a self-contained composition where everything pointed back to itself, the typical form of ceremonial style, while the a-tectonic was used to designate a composition where everything tended to reach out.

Wölfflin coined this oppositional pair to describe the evolution from Renaissance to Baroque (the four other pairs coined by him were linear - painterly, plane - recession, multiplicity - unity and absolute clarity - relative clarity).

But the term of tectonic (characteristic, as we saw, to the ceremonial style) greatly applies to the work art that suggest the indirect experience of transcendental, i.e. the hierophany.

Schrader uses the term of stasis: a frozen image that suggest the atemporal: the sea waves riding over the shore, an ancestral ritual, an art object defying us by its classical perfection, the slow motion of clouds, the immaculate white of the snow... all these create in us a Zen mono no aware, a Virgilian lacrimae rerum: our sad revelation of the difference between temporal and eternity.

(Filmofilia)

Labels: , ,

Friday, February 13, 2009

Ozu the Craftsman



We should be aware that any movie made by Ozu, despite all his mundane images of Tokyo in the fifties, belongs to a universe that's radically different than ours. Not only because of the hieroglyphs (mixed as they are with American signs), neither of the kimonos (mixed as they are with European dresses). There are other differences, absolutely radical, expressed by subtle signals.

Before talking about them, let's make it clear: the movies of Ozu carry a meaning that surpasses any barriers among civilizations, as remote as they could be. In any language, in any culture, the tragedy of the generational gap within families speaks the same words. We find it in the Noriko Trilogy of the Japanese Yasujiro Ozu, in the Apu Trilogy of the Indian Satyajit Ray (that is at least on the same level as Ozu's movies), in Rembrandt's rendering of the Return of Prodigal Son. I saw the painting at Hermitage, years ago, and I have tears in my eyes always when I think at it. The old father, close to blindness, close to death, and his son, infamous, downtrodden, penitent. He suffered all cruelties of life, and now he is back, desperate and finding in the old father the pillar of support. And I'm thinking, what if everything is only the dream of the old father?

Ozu is universal while he is putting the universal in the Japanese frame.

Banshun (Late Spring) begins with some kimono wearing ladies who have gathered for the ritual of tea preparation. Actually it is a signal from Ozu: my movie is equivalent to a ceremony of tea preparation. At the middle of the movie, the Noh performance: Noriko (Setsuko Hara) is moving the muscles on her face the same the main actor is doing on the stage. She is unaware, of course: she is alarmed by what seems to be a change of regards between her father (Chishu Ryu) and the beautiful widow. Actually Ozu sends us another signal: my movie is equivalent to a Noh performance.



So, coming back to an earlier question: is Ozu an artist or a craftsman? Think at the Byzantine icons, at the Japanese gardens: the formalism is strict, the canon is ruthless, the personality of the creator is severely arrested, only his mastership is allowed.

(Zen Garden)

The same as Noh artists, Ozu remains strictly in the canon, absolutely faithful to the formalism; his movies resemble each other because Ozu is an artisan who comes back again and again to craft his work towards perfection.

Let me make here a digression: Sōseki, in his Sixth Dream, is telling us about an artist from the thirteen century, Unkei, who is carving a huge statue (a Niō) from the trunk of a tree.


(Niō Guarding the Temple Gate)

In the story of Sōseki, Unkei, who lived hundreds of years ago, is emerging in Meiji era, and no one from the attendance notices this discrepancy: the moment one becomes a Master, time has no more meaning for him, past and future disappear.

But here's the point I'd like to emphasize: in the story Unkey does not carve the nose and eyebrows of the Niō; he finds them within the wood. He became part of the Universe of gods, that he had been carving for all his life.

The same with Ozu. He had been carving his movies for tens of years, till it was no more need for him to invent the situations of his stories: he was finding them in the Universe.

Is Ozu alive? On his tombstone, that unique hieroglyph, MU, tells us about void, about nothingness, heavy of the meanings of all his movies, loaded with all forces of Cosmos.

(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

Labels: ,

The Silences of Ozu

Ma Yuan (1160–1165 to 1225) - Mountain Stroll in Spring

As I said earlier, Ozu is considered the most Japanese among Japanese filmmakers, though the Nippon specificity is hidden behind mundane contemporaneity.

One can draw a parallel between the movies of Ozu (with heroes from the middle-class of fifties' Tokyo) and any form of traditional Japanese art, let's say, ikebana, Noh, the ceremonial of tea preparation, or haiku.

Let's talk a tinny bit about haiku. Here's the famous one that comes from Bashō:

an ancient pond / a frog jumps in / the splash of water

(I understood it much more after watching Kiarostami's Five Dedicated To Ozu).

Between the verses there are silences; verses loading silences with heavy suggestions.

The music of Arvo Pärt: the prepared piano creates the bell sound; between two bell sounds, silence; music expressed by silences; but the silences are prepared by the sounds that precede them.

Ma Yuan (who lived in the twelfth century, and in the first quarter of the thirteen one) was painting his landscapes only in one corner of the canvas. Without that painted corner, the sheet of paper would have remained just a sheet of paper; now it was carrying the void, the silence, loaded by the painted corner.

This silence, this void, full of suggestions conveyed by rare sounds, tinny images in one corner, disparate verses: this MU from the tombstone of Ozu, loaded by all that his life has conveyed.

I will comment here only one scene from Bakushû (Early Spring) to show there the relationship between words and silences.

Noriko (Setsuko Hara) is announcing her family that she would marry a friend her age. All family is unpleasantly surprised. They had found for her such a good prospect, and now she would make her way! Her brother (Chishu Ryu) is the most upset, but all others are complaining, except for the father, who's not saying anything.

Noriko is not in a comfortable situation, only she's very determined.

The discussion is going on while suddenly mother says to her husband, let's go upstairs to sleep.

So they leave the room. You'd say that mother realized that's nothing to do any more; however she goes on complaining, now alone with her husband, who doesn't say anything, only a periodic mumbling, Hm.

In the end mother gets silent. At that moment Noriko passes their bedroom, without a word. And father is mumbling again, Hm.



(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

Labels: , ,

Thursday, February 12, 2009

The Ellipses of Ozu


Was Ozu an artist or a craftsman? The question seems weird; it has a point. It's like with Vivaldi: did he compose 300 concerts, or one concert 300 times?

Let's take only the Noriko Trilogy. Are there three movies, or is there only one, crafted three times with slight variations? So the question is: did Ozu create 58 movies, or only one for 58 times? As his first films are now lost (no more originals, no more copies, nothing), you could find here a reason :) Just kidding.

The answer is that Ozu was interested in certain aspects of the Japanese cultural space, he was exploring ways to express these aspects in the movie art and he aimed to improve them continuously.

With each new movie the setting becomes more precise, the position of the camera becomes more precise, the faces of the actors become closer to the archetypal.

And the story becomes more and more elliptic. Any non-essential accessory disappears. With any new film, Ozu is more and more minimalistic.

Let's take Tôkyô monogatari. The old parents are getting ready for the trip to Tokyo and tell a neighbor who's passing by the window that they will meet one of their sons at Osaka.

Their stop at Osaka is not in the movie; their railroad trip neither: they are not necessary in the economy of the story, while the preparations of their son from Tokyo to bring them home and the reaction of his kids are shown: they are essential and they carry somehow the ellipses (the parallel events from Osaka and from the railroad trip).

When they come back from Tokyo, the parents have to stop at Osaka for a few days, as the mother is ill. The movie shows only their son, complaining at office of his troubles with the old guys. Again, his complain carries somehow the ellipses (mother getting ill, their unexpected stop at Osaka).

The old guys come back at home and mother collapses. The movie shows only the son from Tokyo getting the news and his discussion with the sister, her proposal to go both to their parents, and to take also with them the mourning dresses just in case.

So nothing is useless in the story; the economy is total; Ozu has ruthlessly cut anything non-essential.

(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

Labels: , ,

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Tokyo Twilight (1957)



Tôkyô boshoku (Tokyo Twilight) - filmul pe care Ozu l-a facut imediat dupa Early Spring, in 1957.

Se indeparteaza dela stilul celorlalte filme. Povestea devine aici in mod explicit mai dramatica, nu mai are acea retinere minimalista care ii face filmele celelalte atat de cehoviene.

Un tata (Chishu Ryu) si-a crescut singur cele doua fete. Acum ele sunt mari. Sora cea mare (Setsuko Hara) este maritata si are un copil de numai cativa ani. Sotul ei, profesor universitar, a inceput sa bea si merge pe panta ratarii. Asa ca ea isi ia copilul si se muta acasa la tatal ei.

Problema mare este insa cu sora cea mica, care ii priveste cu suspiciune pe amandoi, si pe tata, si pe sora mai mare. A abandonat facultatea si a intrat intr-un cerc dubios de prieteni. A ramas gravida, iar iubitul ei se poarta ca un om de nimic. Este decisa sa avorteze, dar trebuie sa faca rost de bani pentru asta, asa ca umbla sa se imprumute. Fireste ca nu le spune nimic nici tatalui, nici surorii.

Ca sa se complice lucrurile si mai mult, mama, care si-a parasit sotul si fetitele cu multi ani in urma si a fugit cu un iubit, apare pe neasteptate. Nu pentru a-si face cumva datoria de mama (nici nu prea mai e posibil, dupa atatia ani), ci pentru a crea tensiune intre ceilalti.

Pentru ca sora mai mica stia ca mama ei murise. Acum nu mai este sigura de nimic, nici macar daca de fapt tatal ei adevarat nu e cumva amantul de demult al mamei. Isi face avortul si, coplesita de mizeria vietii ei, se sinucide.

Filmul se termina in nota Ozu: sora cea mare se decide sa se intoarca la sot (pentru ca isi da seama, din tragedia surorii, ca un copil trebuie crescut de amandoi parintii), iar tatal ramane singur.

Dramatismul povestii imi pare excesiv pentru un film de Ozu. Jocul actorilor este insa la fel de sobru ca intotdeauna, iar atmosfera acelui Tokio al anilor 50 este creata cu aceeasi maiestrie. Toate acele amanunte, acele localuri mititele in care se bea sake si se mananca supa cu fidea, masinile americane din ce in ce mai prezente pe strazi, reclamele in japoneza si engleza, cladirile impozante si impersonale ale bancilor si societatilor de asigurari, casele japoneze dela periferie.


(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

Labels: , ,

Monday, January 26, 2009

A French Documentary on Setsuko Hara

(Unfortunately both videos are no longer available)





Setsuko Hara started to play in 1935. She was only fifteen by then. Her legend dominated sometimes over the real life. They say she played only in Ozu's movies; actually she played also in movies of Kurosawa and Naruse, among others. For us she remained for ever Noriko, from Late Spring, Early Summer, and Tokyo Story, the eternal virgin of Japan.

She disappeared from public life entirely, in the early sixties, and refused to play any more. She was only 42 by that time. Her reason was that she wanted to live her own life. Nobody understood her, nobody approved her.

It was however a decision of profound dignity: Noriko proved, in real life, that she was the one to decide independently on her own destiny.

She has been living since then in Kamakura, the small quiet town from the movies of Ozu; she is now in her late eighties. And I am sure she walks now and then to the train station, watching trains that come and go and living again the world of her movies that we have always loved.


(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

Labels:

Setsuko Hara in a Movie by Sadao Yamanaka from 1936



The movie (Kochiama Soshun - Priest of Darkness) was made in 1936, by Sadao Yamanaka. It is based on a kabuki drama (Kochiyama to Naozamurai). Setsuko Hara is here at her third role.

She was sixteen by then.

(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

(Sadao Yamanaka)

Labels: ,

Saturday, January 24, 2009

All About Setsuko Hara

It's time to speak more about Setsuko Hara; some consider her the greatest. What is sure, she played unforgetable roles. And she gave each role all her generosity.

Look at this video: it is the final scene from a movie made in 1947: Anjo-ke no Butokai (The Ball at the Anjo House). The director is Kozaburo Yoshimura.

The war was lost, and the cultured and liberal Anjo family is stripped of all aristocratic titles and fortune. They give a last ball before leaving their mansion. Will they survive to all that happens? Setsuko Hara plays one of the daughters.

It is a scene where you can learn all about the roles played by Setsuko Hara: beauty, purity, tolerance, generosity, determination, and something that is over all these and cannot be defined easily; French folks name it je ne sais quoi.


(video authored by jahmorinz)

I did not see the whole movie and so I don't know, it could be good, it could be mediocre. But I consider this the greatest scene ever played by Setsuko Hara. There are no subtitles; it doesn't matter: no need for them.

(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

Labels:

Friday, January 23, 2009

Late Spring: The Bikes


Two bikes and two traces in the sand. Noriko and Hattori have ridden the bikes and just left them to go further on the shore. And they, the bikes and the traces, know what Noriko and Hattori do not.

Or perhaps Noriko and Hattori know it too, only they lack the courage to acknowledge. It came too late, Hattori is already engaged.

Ozu, the director of Banshun (Late Spring) knew how to make bikes and traces in the sand play in his movies, like humans. Tian Zhuang-Zhuang would have also this huge talent to make active players from objects (Springtime in a Small Town), only Tian had learned it from Ozu.


I saw this scene long before watching the whole movie. The scene with Setsuko Hara (playing Noriko) and Jun Usami (in Hattori) riding the bicycles, their eyes full of indescribable enthusiasm.

I was watching a movie of Hou Hsiao-Hsien (Hao Nan Hao Nu - Good Men, Good Women): there is a scene taking place in a small modern apartment. A TV monitor, a movie played on TV. Noriko and Hattori riding the bicycles, their eyes full of indescribable enthusiasm.

It was my first encounter with Ozu. I wanted badly to see the whole movie. I did not know the title. I only knew that it was a scene from a movie of Ozu. Hou, the great Taiwanese artist, was bringing a touching tribute to the great master of all times. Later, Hou would make a whole movie dedicated to the style of Ozu: Kôhî jikô (Café Lumière).

One year passed. I watched Late Spring, and the scene was there: Noriko and Hattori riding the bicycles, their eyes full of indescribable enthusiasm.

I watched Late Spring again, a couple of days ago. And I noticed the bikes and the traces in the sand. Telling about love with such restraint! What a great scene!

---------------------------------------

Another Japanese movie made in the same year, 1949: Aoi sanmyaku (Green Mountains), by Imai Tadashi. There is a scene with youngsters riding the bikes, Setsuko Hara among them! What a joy!



I found the video by pure chance, just browsing the YouTube. The title was with hieroglyphs, it took a bit to find the title on IMDB. I just browsed for movies made in 1949, with Setsuko Hara :)

(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

Labels: , ,