Ozu vs. State of California

A lot of people may not have heard of director Yasujiro Ozu, and if they have they are more than likely film students. This is a shame.

Ozu could easily slip through the cracks; those seeking to be entertained will probably find his films unbearably slow, and those seeking art could easily pass him by as there is nothing bombastically out-of-the-ordinary about his style.

I can hardly call myself an expert; the only movie of his I've seen was Tokyo Story, which, though it is his most famous, hardly qualifies as a good sample size. That said, I'm going to be writing about 1) the way it deviated from classic Hollywood films and 2) why that is a good thing.

Of all the places one is likely to hear the word "economy" in reference to something completely unrelated to money, Hollywood is up on the list. Ever since the 30's Hollywood narrative has needed to justify itself through motivation; every shot must be there to progress the story. This vacuum sealed structure, while marvelously effective for certain types of stories, is not the only way to make a movie.

The first thing which probably stands out to most viewers is the pace; Tokyo Story like many other Japanese films slowly investigates each scene before moving onto something different. In Hollywood this would most likely be passed off as redundant; if we have stared at a couple walking down a street for thirty seconds, chances are we have a good idea of what's up. To explain why this isn't a complete picture we need to turn to Walter Benjamin and his fabulous essay about mechanically reproduced art forms like film. According to Benjamin the time and space, the even of exhibition in which the art is observed is a factor in its content. Not only the experience, but the content is changed by having it up on the screen for several minutes rather than a matter of seconds. This type of pacing forces the audience to start to look deeper into the simple images before them. Our naturally bored brains start to examine all the little details which, especially in a story which is about capturing a unique moment, can be crucial to the work of art as a whole.

The slow pace of Tokyo Story is also emphasized by the content of the plot. The story is about a somewhat painful family reunion. Other than the ending that is all--there are no twists and turns, no real development of the situation, just different situations where the characters express themselves differently. Again, this flies in the face of Hollywood's need for economy. In classic American cinema the philosophy is that by putting the characters in extraordinary circumstances we will see their truest sides come out (it also doesn't hurt that extraordinary circumstances sell more tickets). This film presents an alternative theory--that the truth of the characters will come out best in the banality of their everyday lives. All of the characters in the film have recently come out of WWII (which in Japan is saying something), but instead of showing us that, Ozu shows us ten years later. Like with the pacing it all comes down the the type of story. Here, the themes that the film explores include hiding the truth and lying to ourselves and our friends, so the truth cannot be burst open like an oil drum. It must be gently coaxed out like a droplet of water squeezed from the skin of a melon.

One of the most subtle differences between Ozu and Hollywood is the editing style. Hollywood loves continuity editing, where the movement of the camera between cuts is meticulously designed to preserve a smooth logical feeling of time and space. It makes the viewer feel like they are right there in that place and takes attention away from the "filmed-ness" of the scene. Ozu on the other hand, through a combination of extreme close ups and anarchistic changes in camera angle makes us feel like we are stranded in a maze. In the wide shots it is often difficult to see everyone or tell where one person starts and the next ends, and in the close ups the character at hand seems lost.

This clip is from another Japanese film, Akira Kurosawa's Dreams. Watch the first five minutes and fifty five seconds (and then watch the whole film because it is excellent). Even though Kurosawa is considered the "western" Japanese filmmaker, this is a great example of the kind of pacing I'm talking about.

At first watching these same guys hiking and listening to them gasping is boring, but after the first couple of minutes you start to notice things. You start to notice the details of their faces, and the sound of the snow. You start to notice you noticing things. It's magical really, to have to sit there living with something extraordinary for so long. And then when their voices finally sound it gives every word a kind of weight they would never have had otherwise.

I was not bored by this movie. Despite the slowness and the deliberation of the style, Ozu packed enough content into each scene to keep me fascinated. Though I have barely touched on it in this essay, the characters are fascinating, and their stories had me absolutely capitvated despite its difference from western film. I love films which reward the viewer for the patience, and this is certainly one.