Here's what he said:


Either way, I'll probably end up rewatching it, just not at the time being. I'm trying to make my way through the entire Criterion Collection, and see how many I can watch during my nearly two month summer break. I'll have to finish Tokyo-ga because I'm a completeist, and since I rented the set from the library, I'm going to watch that tonight, because I have five other Criterion titles from the library to watch including Seven Samurai which I've never seen.

With all due respect, James, I fear you are emphasizing quantity of viewing over quality of viewing. Racing through the Criterion Collection won't gain you much beyond check marks on a list.

I agree with Michael. Plus, if you watch Late Spring again with commentary, you'll have all your questions answered (at least the ones you posted here). Do the same with Early Summer and Tokyo Story, and you'll have a nice little cohesive triumvirate of Ozu titles under your belt, instead of random DVD notches on your bedpost, as it were.

You're probably right and perhaps it's daft to say I'm trying to see how much I can watch over the summer. Honestly, I'd just like to see them all, because I think it would be a cool accomplishment. I will take my time however. I'll try to rewatch Late Spring as well to write a decent review (I imagine my writing will only get better as I get older; for now I'm having trouble articulating my thoughts).

Racing through the Ozu collection on the other hand...

Almost all of Ozu's films beg to be rewatched. While they all kind be enjoyed on first-time encounters, it is only with subsequent rewatches that you begin to pickup on certain nuances. In fact, I'd say he's the single most rewatchable director ever just because there is something new to appreciate with every encounter.

For example, I saw Late Spring five times in one week! Normally, I'd get tired of such repetitions but in this case, it worked.

So is it the fact that I'm trying to watch every Criterion rather dumb, or how I'm "racing" through them? I still want to watch all of them, and that's really all I mean with the project, as I never intended to watch too many, even though I wanted to try and watch as much as I could over summer break.

Watching all of them is a pointless exercise really. I'm sure you'll find no-one who posts here - even the most ardent film fans - has watched everything in the collection, nor would they want to. I know I haven't even come close, and I have been a Criterion collector since the early 1990s. (I've probably seen, and I own, about 300 titles, including laserdiscs, just FYI).

You can certainly look to Criterion for starting points and then latch on to things you have a particular interest in. Don't change your viewing plans based on me, though.

Yeah, maybe you're right. But now my Netflix queue is filled up with Criterion and I've written so much it seems like I shouldn't stop now.

As long as you don't pretend the Criterion Collection is the end-all, be-all, and don't let your mission to see them all get in the way from watching Non-Crit films, I don't see it as a dumb exercise. I guess it all depends on how much energy you're actually putting into seeing them all. "Racing" through the movies just for the sake of being able to say you've seen them all is rather foolish. Using the collection as a potential bee's nest of films to watch isn't.

James, if I were you, I would not devote to the summer racing through the CC. Instead for the summer I would devote completely to Ozu, only Ozu since you're discovering him. Savor every bit of Ozu, check out every Ozu film, Criterion and Eclispse. After I first saw Tokyo Story, Ozu did not escaped from my mind for months, I put my hands on everything Ozu - DVDs, books, online resources, etc. Take your time with Ozu. He is not the filmmaker to rush with. Racing through, you miss out so much.

Michael -- watch out, people might think you are me if you get too effusive about Ozu. ;~}

Michael K

I definitely want to see as much as I can by him going by Late Spring, but I think I'd get pretty tired if I limited myself to watching movies exclusively by him. So, I'm not going to watch just Ozu movies this summer break.

Also, is it important to watch Tokyo-ga?

Apart from the two interviews with Atsuta and Ryu, which are definitely interesting for people just beginning with Ozu, probably not. It's a personal, free-form set of impressions about Japan by Wenders rather than a proper documentary on Ozu. (There are interesting episodes with Herzog and Chris Marker, though.)

Also, am I alone in thinking that watching a lot of movies in a very short span of time is not necessarily a bad thing? You can always record impressions of films you want to revisit soon, but I think there's a certain amount of value in racing through genre films (like, say, Westerns) -- where the cumulative effect is sometimes quite powerful and can teach you a great deal about recurring motifs, narrative devices, etc.

The only "essential" segments of Tokyo Ga are the interviews of Chishu Ryu (long-time Ozu actor) and Yuharu Atsuta (long-time Ozu cinematographer).

I was originally going to write a review for this, Michael, but man, it seems like you like it so much, I don't know if I could do it justice for you.

Perhaps, rather than focusing on the movies' themes, I'll focus on what it meant to me and how I feel it does a good job getting across those themes.

Watch what you like. You've got a whole lifetime to revisit these films, and I'm sure you will.

I was interested in your initial confusions / questions about Late Spring, because I think it demonstrates how subtle a storyteller Ozu is (and this is one of the reasons he's so eminently rewatchable). As you noticed, and as Michael K expanded on, even small elements of body language can carry the narrative. Even when you've watched this film half a dozen or more times you can find yourself revisiting and questioning your ideas about a character's attitude or motivation, and your changing life experiences will also allow the film(s) to strike you in new ways.

Working your way through the Criterion Collection is a good start, but don't forget that it's only a teeny-tiny, somewhat arbitrary window on the wonders of film history, and let the films direct the way you view them. If you feel you need to take more time with one or re-view it, don't shortchange yourself.

Thanks for this wonderful post. It's really good advice.

Okay, I'm listening to the commentary for Late Spring now.

My review for the movie is up. I hope you all like it.

Ozu is famous for his "pillow shots" - while this might have a pornographic connotation (ha!) it really just refers to the short, almost decorative transitional shots separating one scene from another: grass, clouds, empty streets, passing trains, etc. The caps I've posted here aren't quite pillow shots; most are the beginnings or ends of scenes, just before or after the characters enter or leave the frame...

Got "Late Spring" and "Tokyo-Ga" from the library last week. The last 20 minutes (along with the Noh theater scene midway) hit me the hardest yet of the handful of Ozu films I've watched. What's remarkable is that, for its first hour, I felt "Late Spring" was positively lively and even cheerful compared with the perpetual, palpable dreariness felt throughout "Tokyo Story" and "There Was A Father." Despite the lack of raised voices or any visible action (my pulse spiked when Ozu dared to have his camera do a couple of tracking shots! ) the tension builds nicely and the emotional payoffs at the end are huge. Even though there are shades of post-War influences sprinkled throughout the film (the Coca Cola sign, Yumeji Tsukioka's happily divorced character, etc.) Ozu's laser-like obsession with the 'minutiae' of family life anchors the film on solid footing. My heart was truly aching for poor Noriko when her family and friends' conspiracy to push her into an arranged marriage takes her away from her poor, heroic father. Setsuko Hara, Chishu Ryu and the many other Ozu veterans, under the master's complete control of his style, push "Late Spring" way above cheap sentimentality and into the realm of universal truths.

The day after seeing "Late Spring" I couldn't get the movie off my head (Ozu has that effect on first-timers to his work) so I had to rewatch Criterion's DVD again with NY Lincoln Center director Richard Pena's commentary track on. Despite Pena (a) sounding an awful lot like TCM's Ben Mankiewicz and (b) constantly pointing out the obvious (i.e. what we are watching) he's also good at decoding the Ozu style/trademarks for movie buffs that might be new to the late director's style. On second viewing and already knowing the twist at the end (that the father is only pretending to re-marry) the movie's class and simplicity stand out even more. The scene in the Kyoto hotel when Noriko begs her father to let her continue living/serving him made me cry the first time I saw it. Knowing the ulterior motives of Chishu Ryu's character his speech (and their last scene together when Noriko wears her wedding outfit) made this scene connect and resonate even more on repeat viewing. Those Eclipse Ozu box sets ('Silent Ozu' and 'Late Ozu') are looking more desirable than ever before if their prices ever come down.

Then it was time for Wenders' Tokyo-Ga (1985), an early 80's tribute/love letter to Ozu that is probably one of the coolest Criterion bonus features ever if you accept it as such and not a 'be all, end all' definite word on the filmmakers' life/work. While it starts awkwardly with Wenders aping Ozu's static camera style to photograph modern Tokyo day locales (which comes across as pretentious with the chosen BGM) eventually Wim lets loose and allows what fascinates him about Ozu's homeland to guide his on-the-fly shooting. Wenders' obsession with a factory that makes realistic-looking plastic food stands out. "Tokyo-Ga" also doubles as a time capsule of how the humanity Ozu captured in his movies was being lost in his homeland to the technology and Americanization of Japanese culture so prevalent in the 80's (and still going strong today) but it's nothing that hasn't been chronicled/documented in pop culture before. The highlighted interviews with star Chishu Ryu and cameraman Yuuharu Atsuta (both men passed away in 1993), along with pictures/scripts/equipment used by Ozu to make his films, gives these motion picture veterans a chance to humanize the legend that Ozu has become. When Atsuta breaks down after telling Wim he had to quit working because he couldn't deliver his best to those he worked with after Ozu's passing Wenders achieves the type of closure in his documentary that the object of his adulation could still instill on those he worked with 20 years after Ozu's passing.

All in all, I got a lot of bang from my trip to the library. "Floating Weeds" is next.