Very nice reading of this moment - I think that's precisely how it comes across in the film, and I like the idea that this scene is emblematic of the process the father must now go through, of resigning himself to the conclusion of this phase in his and his daugther's life. Maybe the fruit imagery connects to the earlier association between Noriko and the 'iris spirit'? Or maybe that's over-analysing things...Michael Kerpan wrote: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.
I watched the film again, with your comments in mind, and again I realise I was over-stating the negative side of things before. It had never occurred to me to think of Noriko's family as 'not particularly nice', but I think I see where you're coming from - it is delicately suggested that the relations between her brother and his wife (and his sons) are not ideal. But I couldn't agree more about the complexity of these relationships, and any attempt to pin them down seems reductive.Michael Kerpan wrote: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.
However, I do think there's a distinct sadness to the scene where Kikichi comes home and his mother tells him the good news. Perhaps a gentle smile begins to play across his face towards the very end of the scene, but for the most part the emphasis seems to be on his, apparently rather depressed, resignation to what has happened. He tells his mother to stop crying since she is so happy; and when he claims to be happy, she tells him to show it more. The next day, the mother tells Noriko that Kikichi was overjoyed, and Noriko says that her parents approved of the match; and we know very well that neither of these statements is quite true. They're very white lies, of course: Kikichi will probably be as happy as he can be with Noriko, and her family will reconcile themselves to the idea.
But I think that here, as in Late Spring, Ozu is drawing a distinction between the ideal and reality. The process of getting Noriko married is supposed to mean getting her a husband who will be rich and always make her happy (as I think Noriko jokes to her uncle), but the reality is that she leaves her 'home sweet home' (and despite her family's flaws, they are clearly happy together for the most part) for a life that may well be difficult and poverty-stricken, lacking those home comforts she is used to - shortcake, for instance! In a way, Noriko seems to have a more pragmatic sense of her own marriage as a necessary 'next step', in that she uses the opportunity to help a neighbouring family 'move on' as well, despite the son's apparent unwillingness to pull himself out of the rut he has been in since his wife's death. The marriage she concocts for herself makes sense in a brilliantly pragmatic way, but is, for the moment, devoid of romance. Her family's reaction to the news indicates that they were hoping for a more 'ideal' solution, a match with a richer and handsomer man (and hopefully a younger one than the man Noriko's boss had picked out), and that they had not faced the reality that Noriko's marriage would necessarily break up the family, and possibly entail a good deal of hardship for her as well.
It is certainly going too far to call these situations 'tragic' as such, or to say that Kikichi is merely 'indifferent', but Early Summer still seems to me to conclude on a note of sadness - with Noriko weeping and her mother agreeing with her husband that they've had a happy life, but then becoming despondent as she realises that this happiness is in the past. Ozu steps back from this a little in the miraculous final shot, so perfectly expressive of simultaneous (and interdependent) change and stability, but overall it strikes me as a film which takes a situation you would expect to be, and is to a great extent, an occasion for joy, and shows in unsparing detail the pain that is inescapably mixed with that happiness. In other words, the joy is real but overt, whereas the pain is what lies under the surface, and it is the latter that Ozu seems especially concerned to draw out. But again, I'm sure there are many ways of reacting to the film, and no doubt I'll react differently on a tenth or twelfth viewing.
