Yasujiro Ozu's timeless reflections… Tokyo Story (1953), BFI Blu-ray

After seeing so many of Ozu’s films, although their focus was family life in Japan, the characters in his films are very universal. … I can see my father, my mother, my brother and sister, and sometimes myself too. It’s like reflections in a mirror. Director, Stanley Kwan

One of the extras in this superb BFI issue, is the 1993 documentary, Talking with Ozu, a tribute to the legendary director featuring diverse filmmakers such as Lindsay Anderson, Claire Denis, Hou Hsiao-hsien, Aki Kaurismäki, Paul Schrader and Wim Wenders. Hong Kong based Stanley Kwan lost his father in his early teens and credits Ozu’s films as helping him grow up after watching them at film school. Kwan recognised his loss from the first time he saw Tokyo Story through to early silent films such as I Was Born, But… where the children only come to realise the reality of their father’s work pressures gradually; they thought he was a superman but now they appreciate his love for them in a new way.

Ozu cuts quietly and deeply across the ages of film and it doesn’t matter where you’re from, you will still be affected by his humanity.

Setsuko Hara

The BFI has been running an online season of Japanese films on the BFI Player and this release is part of that effort to celebrate the unique qualities of one of the country’s greatest directors. Amazingly, Tokyo Story was Ozu’s 48^th film, give or take a few shorts, and whilst his early films showed some Hollywood and wider influences, by this stage his was taking longer to make his statements and he was continuing to get better. The script surprisingly drew from Leo McCarey’s Make Way for Tomorrow (1937) about grandparents being shuffled off between their offspring, Ozu had never seen the film but his co-writer, Kôgo Noda, had seen it though and relayed the theme.

Ozu had always dealt with family and with The Brothers and Sisters of the Toda Family (1941), had already created a similar multi-generational drama which hinged on the same motif of grown-up children not being respectful enough to their older parents. It’s included on this release so you can see the thematic similarities for yourself.

Chishū Ryū

But Tokyo Story stands alone and proved to be a gateway film for western audiences being both very emotional direct as well as dealing in a very didactive way with some of life’s great compromises, some of its greatest disappointments too. Claire Denis quotes from the ending of Late Spring as Setsuko Hara’s daughter tries to get her father, Chishū Ryū, to let her stay with him rather than get married. He can’t, reasoning that she has to live her own life and that he is nearing the end. Ozu himself, lived with his mother for almost all of his life, dying within two years of her in 1963.

Tokyo Story has been restored before but as the original negative was lost in a fire, until now prints have come from a duplicate negative, now this new 4k restoration, takes advantage of the latest technology and the film has never looked better or at least, not for some 67 years. In lieu of the NFT re-opening anytime soon, this is the best opportunity to watch this story in the best quality – it is jaw-droppingly clean!

Tokyo contrasts: old and new, clean and dirty

For those who don’t know, the story revolves around two elderly parents trying o find their place in their children’s’ evolving lives. They plan to visit their children in Tokyo, a rare excursion for them and the father, Shukishi Hirayama (played by Ozu stalwart, Chishû Ryû, who appeared in all but two of his films) and mother Tomi (Chieko Higashiyama) make their preparations, excitedly discussing the reception they will receive. They live a long way from the capitol and Ozu shows the slow and orderly existence of their provincial town. Their youngest daughter leaves for the school she teaches at, being greeted by her pupils as they tread the familiar paths to class. Ozu deftly shows us the culture and pace of life through sparse use of music and external shots bookending quiet, politely loaded conversations.

Eldest son Koichi (Sô Yamamura) is an over-worked general practitioner in one of Tokyo’s more hard-pressed suburbs. He is married to Fumiko (Kuniko Miyake) who struggles with their two wilful sons one of whom complains after his desk is moved to accommodate his grandparents’ stay… it’s a foretaste of what is to come. Shukishi and Tomi duly arrive and after their day out with Koichi is cancelled after a medical emergency for one of his clients, it’s clear that he will struggle to find time for them.

Shukishi and Tomi travel in hope.

They are greeted cordially by their daughter Shige (Haruko Sugimura) who runs a beauty parlour and lives with husband Kurazo (Nobuo Nakamura), an easy-going chap who she criticises for spending too much money on her parents. Shige’s apartment and her life are too crowded to easily accommodate her kin and you wonder how such polite old people have produced such a misery of a daughter.   

The warmest welcome comes from Noriko (the sublime Setsuko), the wife of their eldest son who died in the Second World War. Noriko still cherishes her dead husband and thinks nothing of putting herself before his parents. She takes a day off to look after them and willingly gives them her time. Yet, Shukishi and Tomi worry that Noriko has spent too long mourning and urge her to move on and re-marry even though she is seemingly content.

Parental planning: Kuniko Miyake and Sô Yamamura

Shige and Koichi send their parents off to a resort for a few days respite. It’s ostensibly a nice gesture but, whilst the beach is lovely and the food is good, the walls are thin and the couple can’t sleep for the sounds of young people enjoying themselves late into the night. They return to the city to find Shige and Koichi unprepared. Tomi stays in Noriko’s tiny apartment, whilst Shukishi goes off to catch up with some old friends and get very drunk. This sequence was another Ozu trademark and allows the older generation to let down their guard and say what they feel. Here they bemoan the shortcomings of their offspring. They are all disappointed with their children’s modest achievements but they are still proud… they could be worse.

It is revealed later that Shukishi’s job had been as head of education, he was a high-flyer and this could explain his drink problem and the distance of some of his children… as well as his view of their positions. Ozu was so aware of the pressures of work on quieter personalities and the toll it took and the props that were used.

Haruko Sugimura

Eventually the parents return home leaving relief behind. But here the story takes a gear shift as Tomi is taken seriously ill. After a series of steadily worsening telegrams Shige, Koichi, and Noriko head north. There they find Tomi near to death with Koichi quickly realising she is in her last hours. They are saddened, especially at the suddenness and after a trip that Shige at least, remembers as being far more convivial than it was. But maybe that’s the way of things: being taken for granted is a privilege of parenthood. Ozu doesn’t judge and he leaves it for the viewer to reach their own verdict.

Will grief melt the family squabble and who will put duty ahead of self-interest, as if things were that simple. The scenes of Noriko with Shukishi are the heart of the film’s closing sequence as she reveals her feelings of unworthiness but father-in-law wants only for her to move on; am echo of Late Spring… He gives her Tomi’s watch as a keepsake – a more meaningful memento than Shige asked for or was given.

You’d have to have a heart of stone not to be in tears by this stage and for all the right reasons, yet Tokyo Story is a film full of real characters who are all flawed and weighed down by life and responsibility. Ozu called it his most melodramatic film and this possibly appeals more to western audiences. It still operates around a relatively narrow emotional band and the depth of feeling is all the stronger for that. It is an ordinary story but those are, ultimately, the most resonant.

The performances are superb with Chishû Ryû being especially impressive – a 50-year old playing a man 20 years older. Setsuko Hara is, of course, a wonder, managing to convey so much with such calm economy and the subtlest changes of expression using what must undoubtedly be, the kindest face in all cinema.

The reward is enriching and haunting and, as is usual, I’m still on Ozu time days later. Mind you, it is a very hot day and the house feels like one of Ozu’s; the windows are all open and we sit in quiet contemplation, casually fanning ourselves as the children watch TV and play computer games.

In addition to Ozu’s Brothers and Sisters of the Toda Family (1941) and Talking with Ozu (1993), there’s a host of special features, including a surprising trip to Sheffield!

An Introduction to Tokyo Story (2020, 26 mins) from Asian-cinema expert Tony Rayns. Furnival and Son (1948, 19 mins): recounts the difficult choice a recently demobbed serviceman has to make between an unexpected job offer elsewhere, and resuming his pre-war position as his father's right-hand man in their small cutlery firm, Furnival and Son

There’s also an image gallery and a fullsome illustrated booklet, including an essay by Professor Joan Mellen, archival writing by John Gillett and Lindsay Anderson and a biography of Yasujirô Ozu by Tony Rayns. This is with the first pressing only, so get in quick!

The disc is available direct from the BFI Shop (online only) and other home entertainment online retailers.

It is absolutely essential, and this will be my third copy. You know it makes sense.

Buy one, get Toda free!