May 17th, 2012
The masterpiece of post-war Japanese cinema
In Noriko Smiling, published by Notting Hill Editions, Adam Mars-Jones explains the intricacy of Japanese film through a single movie.
Late Spring, directed and co-written by Yasujiro Ozu, was released in 1949, which makes it an old film, or a film that has been new for a long time.
I first saw it in 2010, when it was already past its sixtieth birthday. I’d seen a couple of other Ozu films before it, perhaps a dozen Kurosawas, some in cinemas on first release, and a small handful of Mizoguchis. I saw a few contemporary releases, such as Tampopo, as a working critic, but I can hardly be accused of being an expert on Japanese film. A box set of Naruse waits serenely by the DVD player, its shrink-wrap reflecting the light without any crinkle of reproach.
So what are the odds of finding new things to talk about in so elderly a product, staple of so many film-studies curricula? Pretty much a hundred per cent, I’d say. I’m quietly confident. This is partly because of the nature of the film itself, glancing, wayward, and partly because of the way Westerners look at art works from Eastern cultures, rather passively assuming their mysteriousness.
The masterpiece of post-war Japanese cinema
Late Spring, directed and co-written by Yasujiro Ozu, was released in 1949, which makes it an old film, or a film that has been new for a long time.
I first saw it in 2010, when it was already past its sixtieth birthday. I’d seen a couple of other Ozu films before it, perhaps a dozen Kurosawas, some in cinemas on first release, and a small handful of Mizoguchis. I saw a few contemporary releases, such as Tampopo, as a working critic, but I can hardly be accused of being an expert on Japanese film. A box set of Naruse waits serenely by the DVD player, its shrink-wrap reflecting the light without any crinkle of reproach.
So what are the odds of finding new things to talk about in so elderly a product, staple of so many film-studies curricula? Pretty much a hundred per cent, I’d say. I’m quietly confident. This is partly because of the nature of the film itself, glancing, wayward, and partly because of the way Westerners look at art works from Eastern cultures, rather passively assuming their mysteriousness.
Loading next issue...
