Tokyo Story is a quintessentially Ozu film. The story about the dissolution of a family was emotional without being dramatic. Every frame was composed with the utmost care as if evoking a painting. Shot from the mat, the camera never moved, only the people, drawing the viewer in for an intimate window into this troubled family’s life.

“Be a good son while your parents are alive. None can serve his parents beyond the grave.”
Retired couple, Shukichi and Tomi, make the long, arduous trip from their southern fishing village to Tokyo to visit their children. Due to the distance it has been years since they’ve seen each other. Instead of greeting their parents/grandparents with open arms, everyone seems put out that their lives and households are being disrupted. Shige, the eldest daughter, pawns them off on the couple’s widowed daughter-in-law, Noriko. Unlike their flesh and blood children, Noriko takes the day off and shows them the town, treating them with great care and respect. Afterwards, Shige and her brother Koichi, pool their money and send their parents to a seaside spa. The spa ends up being a loud hangout for young people causing the elderly couple to return to Shige’s the next day. She’s upset that they returned early because she has a party planned leaving the couple literally out on a curb. Noriko takes in her mother-in-law while Shukichi has a reunion with old friends and goes out drinking and reminiscing. Realizing they are a burden on their children, the couple boards the train the next day to go home. They are able to see their middle son who works at the Osaka railroad when Tomi becomes ill on the train and has to disembark there. Satisfied they have seen all of their children for possibly the last time, the parents state that their children may not have lived up to their expectations, but they are better than most leaving them satisfied.

“To lose one’s children is hard, but living with them isn’t easy either.”
Ozu never truly goes into why the children are not only distant but disrespectful as well. The father drank heavily when they were younger, whether that caused a lingering anger he wasn’t telling. Despite Noriko being a dutiful daughter-in-law and widow, her short marriage to Shoji eight years ago was a difficult one for he also drank heavily. Shige grated from beginning to end, always finding fault, never giving an inch. When her husband brings home expensive cakes for her parents, she scolds him that the delicacies are too good for them and then eats the cakes herself! Yet Ozu and the characters simply accept her as she is, never calling her out for her rude behavior. It is what it is.

“Isn’t life disappointing?”
The grown children’s lives are busy as they hustle to make a living in a town with too many people after the war striving for the same thing. Their children reflect the same attitude as their parents, they are rude and disinterested as well. Every generation of the family is disintegrating, held together by memories and tenuous traditions. The father states, “Life is like that.” Death happens. People forget. People move on. Relationships are always in a state of constant flux as people change, suffer, succeed, fail, grow older. Families, like marriages, require emotional upkeep to stay together and relevant, something this family has neglected. Life was also taken for granted, the thought that their parents would always be around. When death visits, the children still can only think of themselves and their lives with only Noriko going out of her way to help. Stay busy, stay moving, and you don’t have to think about the difficult things in life.


“Isn’t life too short?”
Tokyo Story is one of Ozu’s more beautifully shot films, and one that took the viewer beyond a small world. From the parents’ fishing village to Tokyo, we’re taken along with the parents to discover new sights. The music is subtle, just like Ozu, perfectly setting the tone when used. School children sang just as the story needed a bolus of hope. Often only the rhythmic sounds of nature were used or mechanical as with a ticking clock when a character realized all he had was time left. Despite the larger world the characters inhabited his meditative rooms and pauses still reigned supreme. Ozu’s beloved train began the film as the parents journeyed on their last trip to see their children and a train ended the film as a character was freed from her guilt and allowed to embrace a new future.

Everyone ages. Relationships change. Children become parents and then grandparents themselves. Life involves death, irrespective of age. Loneliness is a harsh mistress. I hope Ozu’s assessment that life is disappointing and everyone will eventually not only suffer from alienation but also cause it isn’t inevitable.

2 February 2024