Last weekend I
visited a market where a seller was offering cups of drip coffee. Her set-up
was simple and the coffee was strong and rich. Shortly after finishing my cup I
purchased my own set of accessories in order to make this style of coffee
myself. I found there was a homely satisfaction that one can take from making a
truly delicious cup of coffee; the smell of the beans, the sound of the grind
and that first rewarding sip all make the end result worth the extra time and
effort.
In many ways I
found myself comparing my relationship with coffee to Ozu Yasujiro and his approach to film-making. There is a concept used
in all Japanese art known as mono no
aware. While being notoriously difficult to translate fully, Donald Richie defines
it as, “putting up with things and taking satisfaction in your putting up with
things”. It is my understanding that this simple phrase defines life and this
is exactly what Ozu manages to do in many of his films and most certainly
accomplishes in Late Spring.
While taking
many narrative structural influences from Hollywood before
The Second World War, as well as deftly combining his own experiences and personal
influences, Ozu Yasujiro was able to become one of the leading filmmakers in Japan. Although
after the war, during American’s occupation of Japan, Ozu
rebelled against this form of film-making and set out to create something that would
be seen as purely Japanese. Rather than settling on a traditional film plot
such as a love story or action movie, Ozu focused on the characters themselves;
on their attitudes, their emotions and the feel of the world they inhabited.
Late Spring itself tells the story of a
woman in her late twenties, Noriko, who comfortably lives with her father
Somiya, a widower. The two of them live happily side by side until Noriko’s
aunt suggests that Noriko should get married soon and settle in a household of
her own. She rejects idea and declares she is perfectly fine where she is now,
taking care of her father and living an innocent lifestyle. Thus begins a
series of slight suggestions, manipulative ploys and hidden agendas that force
Noriko into the modern world through traditional means.
When
the movie camera was first introduced to the West it was seen as an extension
of the photographic camera. Its ability to depict life as a document was
exploited in the filming of a factory during closing time and a train pulling
into a station. Japan took a different approach, it saw the movie camera as an extension
of the stage, offering the opportunity to distort time and space to create seemingly
genuine emotion through storytelling. Ozu returns to this idea and much of his
work is reminiscent of the theatre.
The world that is
depicted in Late Spring is a bright
and sunny place, powerfully lit and combined with the low camera shots that show
the entirety of the characters’ bodies nothing is hidden from us. The action
that is presented is as if it is performed on a stage with the camera filling
the role of audience. This is further demonstrated with the positioning of the
characters during one of the many two-person conversations. The character don’t
face each other but rather stand or sit side by side, directing their focus on
empty space toward the direction of the camera. The characters are in harmony with
one another and the composition of these scenes show the intricate detail of Ozu
directorial talents.
All of these
techniques allow for the emotional context of Late Spring to shine through. There is a notable scene where both
Noriko and her father are sharing a hotel room in Kyoto and Noriko is
talking about her future with a characteristic smile lying listlessly on her
face. Her father falls asleep and her words fall on deaf ears. A shot then
directs the audience’s gaze to a vase in the corner of the room. When it cuts
back to Noriko the smile has faded and she appears on the verge of tears. After
another lengthy shot of the vase the scene cuts to the next day. There has been
much discussion over the meaning of the vase in many texts concerning Ozu
Yasujiro. Many believe it to be symbolic of Noriko’s impending nuptials; others
think it to mean a void that dominates not only Noriko’s life but all the
characters in the film and indeed our own lives. Now perhaps I’m over
simplifying things, but I took it be a wonderful use of a point of view shot for Noriko. She’s a character that we have utter empathy for. She does no wrong and
her only vice is that she wishes to stay in the life she knows, living with her
father. She’s a character trapped in tradition, fated to serve those that
believe they know best and it in this scene that her obedience wanes and she
succumbs to her true feelings.
Late Spring is a beautiful film; it
depicts the pain of passing from one stage of life to the next. Noriko, under the
pressures of tradition and obedience, is compelled to enter the modern world by
becoming a married woman. A father is left alone as a result and each character
feels abandoned in their own way. The time and effort that was poured into this
film becomes completely apparent if you have a little patience and put up the
little things in life.
No comments:
Post a Comment