Film Review: Ozu's Masterpiece, Tokyo Story

Yasujiro Ozu's Tokyo Story is a film of plot simplicity to the point of near monotony from a modern standpoint. To paraphrase an adage about American film making, if in the first frame there is a cloud, in the second there should be a plane, and in the third frame the plane should be shot down. Ozu wanted to make a story about clouds-a phrase applicable to the majority of his work, yet here with Tokyo Story, he took the principle to an extreme. While decidedly mundane in subject matter, Ozu's characterizations are ultimately a masterful study in family interplay that climaxes in a heartwrenching finale.

The technical aspects of the film first deserve a close look, as they frame the action-or lack of it-on screen. Ozu utilized most of his trademark bare-bones technical style in Tokyo Story and only sparingly used shots such as the pan. The scene in which Shige and her brother fan themselves is a typical example of Ozu's parallelism. However, Ozu brazenly defied the 180-degree line rule in this film, particularly in one scene in which the family gathered around for a talk early in the movie. The angles are almost disquieting to a viewer accustomed to the rule-and yet, the action is just as easy to follow, and the new perspectives altogether refreshing. Now unconfined to one half of the room or so the viewer may perceive the complex interplay of character from multiple and opposite perspectives, a welcome change in technique.

Musical touches in the film are further a subtle reflection of the state of mind of the characters on screen. While visiting their oldest son, Koichi, the elderly parents hear the sounds of a Shinto shrine festival outside the house. Even in suburban, modern Tokyo the traditional has its place. At the raucous Atami baths, however, the parents suffer the sounds of the accordion and guitars at all hours of the night, the modern music practically blaring you're a long way from home.