In his opening narrative the director Wim Wenders speaks his thoughts about
Yasujirô Ozu. Rather than trying to summarize, I will let him speak
for himself.
"If there were still sanctuaries in our century… if there was something like
a holy treasure of cinema, for me, that would be the work of Japanese director
Yasujirô Ozu. He made 54 films. Silent movies in the 1920s, black and
white films in the 1930s and 1940s and finally color films until his death
on the 12th December 1963, on his 60th birthday.
Although these films are distinctly Japanese, they are also global. In them
I recognized all families, in all the countries in the world, as well as
my own parents, my brother and myself. Never before and never again was film
so close to its essence and its purpose. Showing an image of the human in
our century. A useable, true and valid image, one in which he cannot only
see himself but rather learn something about himself.
Ozu’s work doesn’t need my appraisal. And such a “holy treasure of cinema”
is just imaginary. So my journey to Tokyo was no pilgrimage. I was curious
to see if I could discover something from this time, whether something was
left of his work, images perhaps, or people even… Or if in the 20 years since
Ozu’s death so much changed in Tokyo that there was nothing left to be found."
Wenders goes looking for Ozu in modern day Tokyo about 20 years after Ozu's
last film, An Autumn Afternoon. He discovers there is very little Ozu to
be found. Few cities have transformed as much as Tokyo did during that period.
Still I think he could have found more than he did as he spent much of his
time in Pachinko Parlors, roof-top golf hitting ranges and a manufacturer
of the plastic food that you will see on display outside of restaurants all
over Asia. I don't think he meant it to be but to me it is a very sad and
perhaps shallow Tokyo that he sees - middle aged men playing Pachinko and
hitting golf balls or sitting in a lounge watching baseball on TV - kids
dancing to American rock and Roll in the park. Tokyo is a fascinating city
- one many of us have come to love through film - and for me a few
work visits there. It still has some of the old about it, still has women
sometimes wearing kimonos, still has small shops and bars, still has students
in uniforms. But certainly much of Ozu has gone - not just the structures
but the heart too of the family that he explored extensively. That could
be said of much of the modern world.
The best parts of the film were when he interviewed an actor Chishû
Ryû who was in many of Ozu's films (and many Tora-san films as well)
and Ozu's cameraman for many of his films, Yûharu Atsuta. Both of their
reminisces are interesting and Atsuta's very moving and informative about
how Ozu shot. Ozu & Noda Year: 2019
Documentary short (17 minutes) by Daniel Raim about the working relationship
between Yasujirô Ozu and his often used scriptwriter Kôgo Noda.
They were to collaborate on the scripts for 22 films - including many of
Ozu's classics - An Autumn Afternoon, Tokyo Story, Late Spring, Tokyo Chorus.
From the silent films to Ozu's last film. Ozu said they worked together so
well because they were so much alike and they enjoyed staying up late drinking
sake and talking about the film they wanted to make. On one film Noda mentions
that they were out walking when the title came to mind and by the time they
got back they had the main plot and the characters already sketched out in
their minds. They would just go to Noda's country home and stay there till
the script was done and Ozu would visualize it as they went along. Noda's
wife in the documentary I Lived, But said that by the time the script was
finished they would go through 100 bottles of sake. Raim uses cartoons of
them in a charming way to depict their relationship. A few clips from their
films as well. But there is only so much you can fit into 17 minutes - I
wish it had been longer.