BFI: 32 Ozu Films

[Tommaso]

Okay, so the Digital Fix reviewer probably mistook the greater clarity of the BFI blu compared to Crit SD for an additional bit of contrast boosting. So far, so good. And don't get me wrong, what I saw on the disc and from the screen caps from various reviews looks certainly superb. The question is whether it looks correct.

The problem remains that the masters that the BFI got from CC already had the CC trademark boosting of Japanese b&w-films. I found it really annoying on the CC "Early Summer" transfer, and if the BFI looks identical in this respect, I still think it's a lost chance to improve on the CC in that area. It may well be that further fiddling in order to reduce the contrast again would have only made the image worse; but then one might ask why the transfers were licensed from CC in the first place, and not from Shochiku directly. I'm sure it won't happen, but just imagine that the BFI licenses the Criterion transfer of "Good Morning"....

[Michael Kerpan]

Early Summer was actually the _least_ contrast-boosted of Criterion's mainline DVD releases -- the only one that I didn't feel I _had_ to re-adjust contrast for.

Since "fiddling" with my own contrast settings gives me images that are pleasant to look at (and approximate the Shochiku look, albeit with more detail), I don't see the need to sob too loudly. But I wonder, am I the _only_ person here who adjusts contrast (etc) on a case-by-case basis -- whenever it seems like doing so will provide a more pleasing viewing experience? It doesn't take that long (though I usually have to skip through the disc to see if an adjustment at one spot mucks up things in another).

[Tommaso]

Early Summer was actually the _least_ contrast-boosted of Criterion's mainline DVD releases -- the only one that I didn't feel I _had_ to re-adjust contrast for.

It definitely annoyed me more than on "Story of Floating Weeds", and I can't remember the look of "Tokyo Story" at the moment, apart from the generally problematic nature of the image quality there (not CC's fault, of course), so probably that wasn't my main concern at the time. But it's good that you say these were mainline releases: the problem doesn't occur on any of the Eclipse sets. These look like they should do.

Since "fiddling" with my own contrast settings gives me images that are pleasant to look at (and approximate the Shochiku look, albeit with more detail), I don't see the need to sob too loudly. But I wonder, am I the _only_ person here who adjusts contrast (etc) on a case-by-case basis -- whenever it seems like doing so will provide a more pleasing viewing experience? It doesn't take that long (though I usually have to skip through the disc to see if an adjustment at one spot mucks up things in another).

No, I sometimes try to do that, too. But as you say, a setting might not work for the whole film, especially with CC discs, as CC seems to do their fiddling on a scene-by-scene basis, not with the same setting for the whole film. And sometimes they only boost the blacks, and this cannot be helped with the limited options your regular TV set offers you.

[MichaelB]

I'm sure it won't happen, but just imagine that the BFI licenses the Criterion transfer of "Good Morning"....

I'm happy to confirm that the BFI will not be using the Criterion transfer of Good Morning.

[Michael Kerpan]

I'm happy to confirm that the BFI will not be using the Criterion transfer of Good Morning.

Wipes brow. ;~}

[Finch]

The Digital Fix on Late Spring.

clydefro's an excellent reviewer but 6 out of 10 for the Late Spring image seems a bit harsh (unless the rating reflects both Late Spring and The Only Son). Re Good Morning: the film looked very good on the (OOP?) Tartan so this should come along very nicely on BD.

edit: Not sure, Tommaso, that every title in the Late Ozu Eclipse set looked "as it should". I thought that The End of Summer looked a touch too saturated compared to the print I saw theatrically. As for Early Summer: it may well be that it's supposed to look darker but if it was contrast-boosted it wasn't distracting to me (the blown out whites on their Late Spring disc and the first half of their High & Low reissue on the other hand...)

[Michael Kerpan]

The most problematic disc of the Late Ozu set was Higanbana (Equinox Flower). The Shochiku release of this blew the Criterion one out of the water (this and Late Autumn were probably the two best-looking discs in its Ozu series). End of Summer was slightly off -- but getting a perfect color balance on this film might be close to impossible (probably the Toho DVD is a bit better overall).

Given the Digital Fix's high overall rating for the LS/OS BRD, the score for video quality (which probably DOES factor in Only Son) isn't egregious.

[Tommaso]

Sorry, should have said that I had only the b&w Eclipse films in mind when I said that they looked like they should (not just Ozu, but also Mizoguchi and Shimizu). I don't dare to comment on the colour Ozus apart from saying that I never found the colours distracting, but that doesn't mean they are correct.

[Finch]

Given the Digital Fix's high overall rating for the LS/OS BRD, the score for video quality (which probably DOES factor in Only Son) isn't egregious.

If the score was just for Late Spring, I personally would have only rated it slightly higher at a 7 but a 6 sounds fair if you take both titles together.

[Michael Kerpan]

I will note that I could hardly be happier with The Only Son transfer (given the state of its source material).

[Tommaso]

Watched the whole of "Last Spring" last night. It certainly looks good given the shape the source materials are in, and I do suppose the CC 'treatment' is not too distracting for many viewers. However, I tried to take down the contrast manually and only found my former observation confirmed: it's not that easy to get rid of the boosting this way. While of course you can get the image less contrasty, at least on my TV it resulted in a very visible loss of perceived sharpness, too. And even after lowering the contrast from 1/2 to about 1/3, the hair of all the characters retained their boosted pitch-blackness that I've seen in this way only in CC editions of Japanese films. After a few tries, I gave up and switched back to my usual settings, because I wanted to enjoy this masterpiece film, after all it was one of the few late Ozus I had never seen before. Without wanting to go into detail I have to say that it immediately made it into my list of very favourite Ozus. It's certainly the most 'lively' and most immediately engaging part of the Trilogy, though I'm sure others will have a different opinion.

Reading the thread for the CC edition again, I noticed a little, but completely unnecessary shortcoming of the BFI disc: the CC subs seem to translate the sung text in the Noh play, whereas the BFI subs do not. It is a very central and important scene, and the comments in the other thread seem to indicate that the lyrics to the play might be meaningful for the story. So I really wonder why they were not translated here.

[Michael Kerpan]

Not really a "trilogy" -- only real connection is the re-use of Noriko as a name for the characters played by Setsuko Hara. (FWIW, of the three films lumped together, I find Early Summer most lively). ;~}

I think it is more important to know the general outline of the story of the Noh play used in Late Spring than to get translations of the sung text (though I agree, including it would have been better). Here is one synopsis: http://www.noh-kyogen.com/story/english/Kakitsubata.pdf" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false; -- and here is another: http://www.the-noh.com/en/plays/data/program_029.html" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false; . (We got to see this play performed -- and it was quite thrilling, especially when one reached the part one already knew from Ozu's film).

[zedz]

I don't know who came up with this spurious idea of a "trilogy" (some marketing guy somewhere, I assume), but it's one of the sillier manifestations of this proliferating phenomenon. It's like pretending that every Fassbinder film in which somebody is called 'Franz' form some kind of unified entity that excludes the 'non-Franz' films.

[Sloper]

Watched the whole of "Last Spring" last night.Without wanting to go into detail I have to say that it immediately made it into my list of very favourite Ozus. It's certainly the most 'lively' and most immediately engaging part of the Trilogy, though I'm sure others will have a different opinion.

Reading the thread for the CC edition again, I noticed a little, but completely unnecessary shortcoming of the BFI disc: the CC subs seem to translate the sung text in the Noh play, whereas the BFI subs do not. It is a very central and important scene, and the comments in the other thread seem to indicate that the lyrics to the play might be meaningful for the story. So I really wonder why they were not translated here.

It's certainly become, over time, my favourite of the so-called 'Noriko trilogy', probably because it's the bleakest of the three films. This might sound a bit perverse, but I stayed up late the night before my wedding to watch it. Somehow it felt like the right thing to do! The film doesn't 'stand out' as a masterpiece quite as obviously as Tokyo Story, but I actually think it's a more profound (because simpler, more focused) exploration of the loss and sadness that inevitably come in the wake of growth and progress. For me at least, it's retained more of its emotional impact with repeated viewings than Tokyo Story has (although I have to say they both make me blub, to an embarrassing degree, every time). And that last shot of Chishu Ryu is the single greatest thing I've yet seen in an Ozu film.

I also hate it when things like songs and plays aren't subtitled - this is pretty much the only reason to get the Criterion Gertrud over the BFI, and another particularly annoying instance of this sort of thing is the AE Pather Panchali. I realise it often happens in cases where an archaic dialect is being used, but it seems kind of presumptuous to decide that this material is not relevant to our understanding of the film (which in Gerturd it very much is!) without giving the viewer the option of finding this out for themselves. Not to pile on the BFI about it - because they're wonderful - but I would have hoped by now they'd be following Criterion's example and subtitling everything. Just a little OCD pet peeve of mine.

As for the 'trilogy' thing, I guess this is a convenient way for a company like AE to present these three canonical classics together. It's not totally silly, I think: this is more than just some guy named Franz, since Hara does play a similar type of character in each film. To put it rather simplistically, Noriko is always the most polite, most cheerful, most eager to please person you could imagine, but gradually reveals humanising layers of selfishness, resentment, deep-seated grief and even perversity as the story progresses. Even though I'm sure Ozu didn't intend these films to be arranged as a trilogy as such, and even though the notion of this trilogy may come to seem redundant as you explore more of Ozu's work, it's still interesting to look at how he (and Hara) explore this figure in the different contexts of these particular films. It certainly was for me, watching them as my introduction to Ozu.

[Svevan]

I don't know who came up with this spurious idea of a "trilogy" (some marketing guy somewhere, I assume), but it's one of the sillier manifestations of this proliferating phenomenon.

I disagree (almost) completely. I'm sure you've heard the arguments, but for the sake of discussion I'll throw them out there: Robin Wood does a great breakdown in his book Sexual Politics and Narrative Film, arguing that it's not just the name Noriko but the specific plot device of "should Noriko marry?" that carries these films (plus Hara's continued presence; she never plays a Noriko anywhere else). There are Norikos in other of his films, and there are forced/arranged marriages in others, but these three films seem to stand apart in their continuities (among them other shared actors, perhaps not a surprise, but also shared plotlines of dead warriors, family members who are doctors, etc). They're spaced evenly over five years and seem to Wood (and to me) to be "variation[s] on a theme. Noriko remains essentially the same character throughout, the variations arising from the different situations in which she is placed..."

Ozu has recurring themes in his films, and some of his movies often seem like remakes (though I think Ohayu is in many ways very different from I Was Born, But... that are usually ignored). Yet here he has the same ambiguous questions of marriage, authority, fatherhood, culture, growing old, etc. asked in three different ways, all with the same actress in the same central role (admittedly a lesser role in Tokyo Story, but one that "gradually becomes the film's central focus" according to Wood). Compare Equinox Flower, which has the same sort of questions, and is no less a masterpiece, but is so very different from these three films. I think they are of a piece, and very rich when compared to each other.

[Michael Kerpan]

There is no doubt that Late Spring, Early Summer and Tokyo Story are all wonderful (and that the characters played by Hara in these contributes greatly to their impact) -- but I disagree that "Noriko remains essentially the same character throughout". I think you lose the richness and uniqueness of the films (and of her 3 great performances) by taking this approach.

That said, comparing and contrasting is fine -- but with the recognition that other late Ozu films are actually closer to variations on the theme of Late Spring than Early Summer and Tokyo Story (and that a number of Naruse's great films of the 50s also might be fitted into a wider set of mutual inspirations and responses).

I would suggest that Equinox Flower is actually linked pretty closely to Late Spring. It is an optimistic variation of Tokyo Twilight (note that these each have the same young actress, Ineko Arima), which is itself a dark (somewhat fractured) inversion of Late Spring.

The late films of Ozu make up an interesting set of puzzle pieces -- that have no one "true" arrangement.

P.S. Ohayo is not even _remotely_ a "re-make" of I Was Born But. ;~}

[zedz]

I'm afraid I'm much more skeptical of those claims for unity about these three films. They're three of the earliest Ozu films to gain critical traction in the West, so their proximity is probably as much to do with contingency (i.e. what Film B can we programme with Film A?) as anything intrinsic to them. As far as I can tell there's no evidence that Ozu considered these three films to have any special connection with one another, and there are arguably much closer connections between films in the so-called trilogy and those 'outside' it (e.g. Late Spring and An Autumn Afternoon). It's not as if these are the only three Ozus to deal with the issue of a new marriage (and is that really the primary theme of Tokyo Story?)

I actually think it would be pretty easy to find meaningful similarities / contrasts between any three randomly chosen sound Ozus (or indeed, between any three Fassbinder films, with or without a 'Franz'), and it doesn't make them any more or less valid as 'trilogies'. It may make for an interesting critical exercise, but it's dubious as any kind of official demarcation, and its promulgation is likely to obscure a lot of the other useful connections between films. I don't know why critics feel they can't meaningfully compare three films by the same director without conflating them into a 'trilogy'.

EDIT: Just saw Michael's elegantly put post and agree.

[Svevan]

P.S. Ohayo is not even _remotely_ a "re-make" of I Was Born But. ;~}

At least we agree on that.

[MichaelB]

The Digital Fix (Matt Shingleton this time) on Early Summer.

[Stefan Andersson]

Sad about the untranslated song lyrics on the BFI Late Spring. Hopefully the song in that colour film (can´t remember the title right now) will be translated. It was discussed online a few years ago re: the Tartan box sets.

[Tommaso]

The film doesn't 'stand out' as a masterpiece quite as obviously as Tokyo Story, but I actually think it's a more profound (because simpler, more focused) exploration of the loss and sadness that inevitably come in the wake of growth and progress. For me at least, it's retained more of its emotional impact with repeated viewings than Tokyo Story has (although I have to say they both make me blub, to an embarrassing degree, every time). And that last shot of Chishu Ryu is the single greatest thing I've yet seen in an Ozu film.

Yes, it's certainly an exploration of loss and sadness, but Ozu balances this so nicely with joyfulness, especially in the early part of the film, and he asks us to consider that we cannot have one without the other, or rather, that the 'stable' family situation at the beginning cannot remain as such; not so much by the social demands and interferences, though they may play their part, but because life is naturally changing; the need for marriage is also a need for becoming more mature here. That's why I don't think "Late Spring" is any way depressing, though it's sad in the end. That said, I never saw a more endearing and charming Setsuko Hara in an Ozu film than in the early scenes of this one; I think of that bicycle ride especially.

Thanks to Michael K for the links to the plot summaries of the Noh play. After reading them, I am not certain what that play may have to do with the film, though.

[Sloper]

Yes, it's certainly an exploration of loss and sadness, but Ozu balances this so nicely with joyfulness, especially in the early part of the film, and he asks us to consider that we cannot have one without the other, or rather, that the 'stable' family situation at the beginning cannot remain as such; not so much by the social demands and interferences, though they may play their part, but because life is naturally changing; the need for marriage is also a need for becoming more mature here.

I tried to say something like this in my last post, but couldn't quite find the words. This combination of deep sadness balanced by a sense of joy is exactly what makes the film so moving. Still, the more I watch Late Spring, the more dominant the sadness seems to become.

Spoiler

There is no great sense, as far as I remember, that Noriko will be happier from now on. From briefly looking at the summary of the Noh play that Michael linked to, it seems like the relevance to Ozu's film might have to do with the female spirit of the iris throwing off her robe at the end, and passing on into another realm, leaving the monk behind. In the film, by contrast, Noriko is last seen weighed down (her facial expression obscured) by her wedding garments - this is a burden she has taken upon herself, rather than one she has thrown off.

Her father, having lied to her about his intentions to marry again, remains behind in his glum little home, like a celibate monk. Remember the hints earlier in the film that he doesn't know how to take care of himself, to cook meals and so on, and Noriko's unwillingness to abandon him; at the end, all he can think to do is peel an apple for himself, and the moment he finishes that task sadness overcomes him and he inclines his head. There is absolutely still a sense that things have turned out as they should, that Noriko had to move on. But perhaps - not to make too much of the Noh play - we are meant to see this process as a tragic one, less the iris spirit leaving her monkish father behind than a flower being pulled out by the roots. That seems too violent an image, but Ozu does associate the notion of inevitable growth and progress with ageing and mortality. Noriko has left her youth behind, and her father is approaching death; call me a misery-guts, but that's the sentiment I feel we're left with at the end. During the play in question, doesn't Noriko catch her father making eyes at the woman he is thought to want to marry, after which, on the way home, she walks off in a huff? She doesn't want either of them to move on, and although this is a mentality she has to grow out of, I don't think she has yet done so at the end of the film.

There's also the fact, if I remember rightly, that we never see Noriko's husband. The bike ride is indeed a very joyful scene, but the man she takes it with is another friend she will be leaving behind; or rather, who will leave her behind, since he is engaged (doesn't she back out of going to a concert with him for this reason?). This absence of the husband seems to forestall any great sense of joy at the end; much as the indifference of Noriko's fiance in Early Summer (not to mention her and her family's grief when she breaks the news to them) put a dampener on the ultimately positive conclusion to that film.

[Tommaso]

Yes, Noriko will probably be not happier after the end of the film, nor will her father. I am not sure, however, whether we should see the change as a tragic one, although it might appear so at first for the characters. This is perhaps similar to the situation when a youngster nowadays leaves his parents' home and takes a place of his own; it's difficult for both sides at first, but eventually feels like a natural change of the relationship, and in most cases it is a change for the better for both sides in the end.

The fact that we never see the husband struck me, too, and I interpreted it as a sign that it is not important whom she marries, as if it was anonymous fate that was governing the process, or a natural 'necessity'. The 'tragic' bit here consists only in, as you observe, the resistance to this process by Noriko, who doesn't want to 'mature' in the sense of setting up a family of her own. In a wider sense, the change depicted here is also symbolic for the change of Japan after the war; the Coca Cola sign is a clear indication that a new era will begin or has already begun, and Noriko resists this too: that is why she doesn't want to go to the concert after she has learned that her friend is engaged to another woman. She seems to totally cling to a traditional image of how to behave as a Japanese woman or daughter. If I remember correctly, her father at one point mentions that she is more conservative or traditional than himself. This traditional image isn't depicted as a bad one at all, but it seems to me that Ozu's point is that, like everything else, it is by necessity changing. And not accepting this change will be detrimental both on the personal level and for the society. In this respect, the film almost has the quality of a Zen lecture.

[Sloper]

You're right that 'tragic' perhaps isn't the right word for it, and I suspect I'm imposing my own bleak outlook onto a film whose tone allows for a number of different responses - you've summed that tone up very persuasively. Interesting comments on the connection to post-war Japan as well. I had only vaguely picked up on this aspect of the story, and hadn't really connected it to Noriko's backing out of the concert. Can't wait to see this again now...

[Michael Kerpan]

I have now seen Late Spring and Early Summer at least a dozen times (and Tokyo Story even more often), and these films just get richer and richer. I see more humor in these as they grow more familiar -- yet I continually find new things to give to thought and reflection.

The peeling of the apple at the end of Late Spring could be seen as a sort of Buddhist exercise -- an activity that forced the father to "live in the present"
for at least as long as it took to complete the peeling process.

In Buddhism, attachment to things (or, perhaps, OVER-attachment) is a real problem. Noriko in Late Spring _yearns_ to hold on to a particularly pleasant stage of her life. But her father knows this would not be good either for his daughter (or himself). The situation we see at the beginning of Early Summer is, on its face, a passing phase of family life. This extended family must necessarily crumble soon. If this Noriko cries, it is because she (unduly) feels responsible for "provoking" the inevitable change.

My favorite single scene in all of Ozu, is the "proposal" scene in Early Summer (it invariably makes me sniffle and giggle simultaneously). The relationships in this film (for all its humor) are some of the most complex in all of Ozu. For instance, Noriko's own family isn't particularly nice -- and it is pretty clear that she feels fonder towards (and more comfortable with) her neighbor (Haruko Sugimura). Although still incomplete, we see much more of the process of the beginning of formation of a new family.

Spoiler

The neighbor's son -- and long-time friend of Noriko and her dead brother -- is NOT indifferent -- he is stunned. One assumes he has always considered Noriko out of reach -- as her family had a higher degree of status and prestige. I suspect, in the end, this marriage will turn out happier than any of the others we see beginning to form in Ozu's films.