Art movies, especially the slow burn ones, are a test of a viewer’s patience. So, when I was contemplating whether to watch Tokyo Story, a 2-hour, 17 minute film consisting of mostly dialogue, I was a bit hesitant. I need not have been. The movie fully deserves the accolade of a masterpiece. The acting is utterly natural throughout and the dialogue (with English subtitles) flow so smoothly from frame to frame that I watched the entire film in one sitting, with nearly unblinking eyes.
So, what is the draw of this 70-year old vintage film, shot in black-and-white and all but devoid of Hollywood drama? For starters, Tokyo Story is the work of the renowned film director, Yasujiro Ozu (1903-1963) who has been compared to other legendary film makers like Akira Kurosawa. Out of the 36 surviving films directed by Ozu, this profound study of family life is arguably his most acclaimed and beloved. In 2012, it was voted by Sight & Sound as the third-greatest film of all time by critics world-wide.
Second, the acting is superb and so natural that the viewer is drawn into the story as it unfolds, as though you are part of the cast. Thirdly, althrough the film appears to be a simple tale of family reunion, Ozu unfolds a universal story that resonates with everyone: the existential pain of being lonely despite having children and the unavoidable disappointments and impermanence of life.
The plot couldn’t be simpler: An elderly couple, Shukichi and his wife, Tomi, travel from their country home to visit their children and grandchildren in Tokyo. There they find that their children have their own busy lives in which they don’t quite fit anymore. Inevitably, the old couple feel guilty of imposing on their children; inevitably, the children cut corners and neglects them. Inevitably, Shukichi and Tomi feels compelled to return home and resume their isolated lives.
On the train ride home, Tomi is stricken, and shortly thereafter, she dies, leaving the children to wonder whether they should have made more time for their mother. This event is ripe for melodrama, but Ozu subverts melodrama for restraint. He presents Tomi’s death as it is, without manipulation. The children gather to send their mother off. Each say their piece, but viewer is left free to discern their sincerity.
Through this simple arc of a story, Ozu unveils a wealth of nuanced emotions, some expressed, and others repressed, yet palpable to the perceptive viewer. In sketching the parents’ cool yet touching relationship with each other, their disappointment with their children’s selfishness and their sense of their own mortality, he shows us the reality of everyday existence: life isn’t made up of grand gestures or impassioned speeches, just resigned acceptance that with time, everything changes, and things have a tendency to change for the worse rather than better.
The technical side of Tokyo Story also plays a big role in cementing the film as a masterpiece. Throughout the film, Ozu placed the camera low on the floor, at the same level that Japanese families typically sat on their tatami mats. By keeping the camera at this level, the conversations become intimate, and the viewer almost becomes a silent member of the family; you sense their gestures and body language; you feel what they feel.
Tokyo Story can be watched in Youtube with English subtitles.
Stills from Tokyo Story
