Steady As She Goes

Yasujiro Ozu’s Japanese classic Tokyo Story (1953) presents us with a contrasting change of pace compared to some of the other modern films we have studied throughout the semester. Indeed, known for his ability to craft calm, beautiful and artistic works, Ozu does exactly that in this film. It is the pace (or lack there of) in Tokyo Story that I am intrigued by. Despite being an extremely emotional tale, the film is characterized by a strong sense of serenity. So I started thinking, how does Ozu achieve this?

The opening sequence of Tokyo Story provides us with an early indication of what to expect from the rest of the film in terms of its gentle pace. The credits, for instance, are literally displayed on the screen with no movement or other ‘exciting’ features usually found in modernist films of the fifties. Furthermore, in the first few shots we see a motor boat puttering slowly across the river, children walking peacefully to school and a high-angled shot of a train making its way through the town. Here, it lacks the imposing nature of other trains we have seen such as Rutmann’s depiction of a powerful machine in Berlin. Due to the fact that we are looking down upon the train in Tokyo Story, it merely blends into its surroundings rather than dominating the screen.

Throughout the film the camera takes on a fairly submissive role, acting as an ‘observer’ of the story. What I mean by this is that it is rarely used elaborately by Ozu. His pans are slow and there are very few quick cuts from one character to another. Along with this, the characters are fixated on each other. They never have eyes for the camera and are often looking away from it when they are talking. Because of this almost ‘documentary’ style of shooting, the film’s leisurely pace becomes magnified.

Sticking with Japanese culture, when in their home, Shukichi and Tomi are often seen sitting on the floor. Ozu emphasizes this with his use of ground-level shots, giving the audience the same viewpoint as his characters. Such shots give the film a sense of richness and tradition.

Finally, Ozu often uses an ellipsis to tell Tokyo Story. This is a technique in which important events are not shown on screen and are usually revealed later through dialogue. For example, Tomi’s death is left out by Ozu. In more traditional cinema, such events which are left out by Ozu would usually be the focus of the film. Nevertheless, having to hear what happened via the characters’ speech is yet another way in which Tokyo Story continues at a comforting pace.

I viewed Tokyo Story as a welcomed change from the many highly-charged and quick-paced films I have seen recently. It contrasts the energetic nature of consumer culture and bustling cities often associated with the fifties and leaves you reflecting on an emotional, beautiful piece of cinematography. This is a credit to Ozu’s abilities as a film maker.

Thanks for reading.

Buy Me

Cinematic modernism truly is a flexible, multi-pronged phenomenon. For instance, through Charles and Ray Eames’ series of short films, we have shifted our focus from the grand landscapes of urban cities and exotic pre-historic jungles to the more everyday domestic sphere. This is evident in the Eames works we have looked at such as House: after Five Years of Living (1955), Lounge Chair (1956) and Kaleidoscope Jazz Chair (1960). Such domestication fosters the idea of consumerism; the topic for this blog.

House: after Five Years of Living was constructed using a series of back to back still shots. These shots depict the house’s picturesque Californian surroundings and unique interior. Throughout the film, objects of possession and individual worth are captured on screen. For example, we see a mid-range and a close-up shot of some kachina dolls. Drawing on my resounding knowledge for kachina dolls I can tell you that they are stylized, religious Native American icons, traditionally used to teach children about their religion. Today, however, they are more often used as decorative figures in one’s home. They are a commodity in which their prime function is to be displayed. So, the kachina doll is perfect symbol for the modern consumer culture. While this may be so, the kachina dolls are certainly portrayed on a miniature scale compared to the grandness of the house itself.

The next Eames film I want to look at is Lounge Chair, a quirky, short film which entails the construction and deconstruction of a classic Eames chair. Again, we find ourselves as viewers of a domestic scene and, in this case, the film acts as a clear advertisement for the Eames product. For instance, the task of putting the chair together is made to seem extremely simple through the sped up speed of the film along with its light, up-beat musical accompaniment. Furthermore, the chair is shown to have numerous functions. Relax in the chair. Relax in the chair with your feet on the chair’s footrest. Read the paper in the chair. Read the paper in the chair while your wife sits on the chair’s footrest. The possibilities seem endless. Finally, packing the chair away into its box seems just as simple as its assemblage. After seeing this, who wouldn’t want to buy the chair?

Kaleidoscope Jazz Chair follows in a similar manner to Lounge Chair as it too, is promoting an Eames commodity. On this occasion it is the Eames stacking chair. The film opens with a series of kaleidoscopic images which saturate the screen, ever-changing. The music which plays is a form of jazz, picked very intelligently by Eames. Together, the visual shots and audio sounds combine to reflect change and different ways of seeing and hearing to those of the past. Automatically, these ideas are linked to the Eames stacking chair when it makes its way onto the screen via a stop-motion effect. It is a product of ‘The Now’. A product of change. The chairs embody a sense of wonder as they transform into different colors and dance around the room.

The stop-motion effect works perfectly in this film and is still a popular technique used today. Once again showing off my love for music and film clips, for a more contemporary stop-motion clip, search Youtube for ‘You’ve Got A Lot of Nerve’ by the Red Riders. Despite being separated by almost fifty years you’ll see that there is virtually no difference between this and Kaleidoscope Jazz Chair in terms of technique.

Overall, these three Eames films explore the domestic sphere. Whether it’s through a depiction of the home, or objects within the home, they each convey a certain consumer culture which was prevalent at the time and which I believe still categorizes our society today.