TOKYO STORY (1953)

Film of the Day #210

TOKYO STORY
1953 • Yasujirō Ozu

Cast: Setsuko Hara, Chishū Ryū, Chieko Higashiyama, Kyōko Kagawa, Haruko Sugimura, So Yamamura, Kuniko Miyake
Writers: Kogo Noda, Yasujirō Ozu
Cinematography: Yūharu Atsuta
Music: Takanobu Saitō
Producers: Takeshi Yamamoto

Shochiku

I won't ever be like that. Then what's the point of family?

An elderly couple, Shukichi and Tomi, embark on a journey from their rural home to Tokyo to visit their grown-up children. However, upon arrival, they find that their offspring are preoccupied with their own lives and seem to have little time or inclination for their parents. The couple's daughter, Shige, and son, Koichi, are caught up in the demands of urban existence, leaving the elderly pair feeling neglected and out of place. Despite this emotional distance, the widowed daughter-in-law, Noriko, stands out as a compassionate figure. She goes out of her way to make the elderly couple feel welcome and valued, exemplifying warmth and consideration absent in their own children. As the story unfolds, the couple comes to realize the stark realities of changing family dynamics and the emotional distance that has developed between them and their grown-up children.

In Tokyo Story, director Yasujirō Ozu masterfully exemplifies his minimalist filmmaking approach, a signature style that distinguishes his work. Ozu isn’t flashy, he opts instead for a quiet and contemplative story that delves into the subtleties of human relationships. The film unfolds at a measured pace, allowing the audience to absorb the nuances of the characters' emotions and the intricate dynamics within the family. Ozu's minimalist approach is reflected in his use of static shots, often positioned at the eye level (or just slightly below) of a person seated on a traditional Japanese tatami mat. This deliberate choice creates a sense of intimacy and observational distance simultaneously, drawing the viewer into the lives of the characters while maintaining an objective perspective. Ozu favors simplicity in composition and avoids unnecessary embellishments. Ozu's emphasis on everyday moments, like the characters sharing meals or engaging in mundane activities, shows the beauty in the ordinary.

Yasujirō Ozu's camera serves as a contemplative observer, offering audiences a unique perspective on the internal drama unfolding within the family. Ozu's minimalist approach remains unobtrusive, allowing viewers to immerse themselves in the subtleties of the characters' lives without the distraction of ostentatious visuals. The film adopts a detached analytical lens, objectively scrutinizing the familial dynamics as they navigate the complexities of changing relationships. The emotional weight of the story is deliberately placed on the viewer, who becomes an active participant in deciphering the unspoken tensions and unexpressed emotions that permeate the scenes. Ozu refrains from utilizing forced emotional triggers, opting instead for a more nuanced exploration of human connections.

Tokyo Story serves as a meditation on the passage of time and the inevitable changes it brings to family relationships. The film delicately captures the universal theme of children growing up and forging their own paths, often geographically distant from their roots. Along with the children's departure, the film also confronts the harsh reality of mortality, as parents inevitably age and face their own mortality. The cyclical rhythm of life is a central theme, underscored by the continual ebb and flow of generations. Parents, once the caretakers, now find themselves in need of care, emphasizing the interconnectedness of family life and the reciprocal nature of caregiving. The film subtly underscores the relentless march of time, capturing the bittersweet reality inherent in the evolving relationships between parents and children. Tokyo Story transcends its cultural context, its story is universal.

Tokyo Story subtly raises a question: are our lives genuinely as busy as we perceive them to be, or do we, perhaps, deliberately make them bustling to sidestep confronting the realities of the passage of time? The film prompts viewers to reflect on this, suggesting that the hectic pace of modern life may serve as a convenient distraction from acknowledging the inevitable changes that come with the ticking of the clock. It invites you to ask whether the constant whirlwind of activity is, in part, a coping mechanism, shielding us from the truths of aging, the dynamics of family, and the cyclical nature of existence.

Yasujirō Ozu's mastery in Tokyo Story lies in his ability to convey a rich tapestry of emotions that characters often keep beneath the surface. The dialogue in Tokyo Story is simple but laden with meaning, capturing the unspoken tensions and unexpressed emotions that permeate the family interactions. The emotional weight is carried not through explicit dialogue but through the profound subtleties of facial expressions, body language, and the spaces between words. Throughout the majority of the film, a profound emotional undercurrent flows beneath the tranquil surface of the narrative. Ozu's characters seldom overtly express their feelings; instead, the director employs a subtler approach, allowing the audience to discern the unspoken emotions that linger in the silence. It is not until the third act that the characters finally articulate their sentiments, providing a cathartic release after a prolonged period of restrained emotions. The film's quiet and calm exterior belies the intensity that simmers within.

A pivotal moment in Tokyo Story occurs when Sukichi, the elderly patriarch, displays a remarkable depth of understanding and compassion. Noriko is clearly torn between being a good daughter-in-law (beyond what anyone would expect of her) and her loneliness since her husband’s death. Sukichi chooses to let her off the hook, tells her that her kindness has been more than enough, and tells her to seek happiness for herself. At this point in the film, Sukichi and Noriko are almost competing in who could be more selfless. Sukichi's decision embodies a rare generosity of spirit. Setsuko Hara's portrayal of Noriko in Tokyo Story is marked by a compelling blend of grace and resilience. Her character assumes the role of a compassionate caregiver, and Hara brings a luminous quality to the screen. There's a subtle strength in Noriko's optimism, almost as if it is a duty she carries with grace. Hara's performance adds nuance to the film, highlighting the resilience required to navigate family relationships in the face of changing times.

Tokyo Story shares thematic parallels with the classic film Make Way for Tomorrow. Both films delve into the complexities of family dynamics, exploring the challenges that arise as parents age and the younger generation grapples with the responsibilities of caregiving. While Make Way for Tomorrow primarily focuses on the plight of aging parents separated from each other, Tokyo Story widens its lens to examine the broader impact on the entire family. The films resonate in their tender portrayal of generational shifts, emphasizing the enduring relevance of these timeless stories in exploring the intricacies of family.

What are you going to be when you grow up? A doctor like your father? By the time you become a doctor, I wonder if I'll still be here.

Notable Awards & Accomplishments

• IMDB Top 250: #210 (as of this writing)

• British Film Institute Winner: Sutherland Trophy

• Sight and Sound Greatest Films of All Time: #4

Streaming: MAX, Criterion Channel, Tubi, Kanopy
Digital Rental/Purchase: Amazon, Google Play, YouTube, Vudu, Apple
Physical Media: Available on Blu-Ray and DVD; Part of the Criterion Collection