In the past two weeks, there has been a special screening to commemorate Setsuko Hara, and I chose three films, "Autumn Harmony", "Late Spring" and "Tokyo Story", so I quickly booked the tickets. Squeezed the Central Line for half an hour today and rushed to the cinema five minutes before the opening. "Marunouchi ピカデリー" Cinema No. 3 is a bit hard to find, with only a twenty-row screening hall. After choosing the seat in the eighth row, I found that I had to tilt my head slightly to see the entire screen, and I secretly regretted buying it too early. Most of the people sitting around in twos and threes were elderly people over fifty years old. Maybe they all grew up watching Ozu and Setsuko Hara when they were young. They must have come here with more complicated emotions than me. "Autumn Harmony" is a work of Ozu's later years, all the elements of Ozu are clearly recognizable: the increasingly stable low angle, the empty shots of the entrance, corridor, landscape and izakaya as the main objects, the original names of actors and characters, breaking the dialogue The close-up of the characters on the axis, and the joys and sorrows that will never change. When the lights dimmed, the screen lit up, as if he had gently opened the door and called out "I'm back." When he looked up, he saw the spotless Japanese room, the brightly smiling Hara Setsuko and the pursed smile. Kasaichi stood up from the futon and greeted him. Everything is like breathing, kind as usual. Sitting down with his knees crossed, his eyes began to follow their figures, only to realize that the front row seat he had chosen had the right line of sight. Watching them chatting at the table, having a drink at the izakaya, and chatting in the office, I looked a little sleepy, squinted for ten minutes, woke up in a daze, and saw the expected people, things, and things. An indescribable sense of reassurance swayed up. In the end, Si Yezi with pursed lips and Hara Setsuko with her head bowed and smiling have already been drawn in her mind several times. Beautiful people will look good in Western clothes and kimonos. Ozu will never let Hara Setsuko cry and send her daughter to marry. It must be a smile, the sadness is just hidden in the slightly shaking empty lens, and there is not much to say. The Japanese life under Ozu's lens is like rice with tea, white tofu, and saury. It is simple, tasteless, and even slightly astringent, but it is also like air and water. Compared with the previous films, the function and purpose of the empty shots in this film are more obvious. The scenes that undertake the transfer of structure and function, or the characters go into silence and use them to set off the atmosphere, are written like a boring machine in high school. The language reading question is really just right. Each frame of the empty mirror is very delicate, but it is not deliberate. It will not deliberately pursue symmetry or centering, and the shaking seems to be reduced. The only dynamic elements are the shadows cast by the sun, and the curtains swaying with the wind. The character who will break the empty mirror in the next second. same house The long shot of the corridor, the black and white film era has the coldness of grayscale, the color film era also has the warmth of the sun, Ozu's film language also has a layer of "wabi-sabi". I can't help but think of the feeling of sitting under the corridor and looking at the dry landscape in the Kyoto High German Institute. Therefore, if I were to design an Ozu Museum, the auditorium would definitely be designed as a four-and-a-half Japanese-style room with three or two futons in the middle. Because looking up from the futon is the authentic Ozu style. The survival model of Ozu-esque characters is certainly a microcosm of mid-20th-century Japan, but it seems to remain the same in modern times. In Ozu's survival game, everyone has only one dead end. Each generation repeats the joys and sorrows of the previous generation, gathering and separating, as if it were an endless cycle with no end in sight. Inability to execute free will, no desire to ascend at all. After getting accustomed to this way of thinking, people will become easily resigned, focus on every detail of life tremblingly, and strive to maintain their own existence, but never dare to take a step out of the thunderous pond and cut off the endless cycle of fate. . Like watching an Ozu movie, I spent three months as an outsider in Tokyo. The intuitive feeling is that the Japanese still have not escaped the Ozu-style survival dilemma. On the one hand, they use production, entertainment and consumption to numb the pain of daily life, on the other hand. Young people are not interested in politics, and the situation of the "missing society" under the declining birthrate has intensified. There are endless personal accidents on trams. I am afraid that the whole society has not gotten rid of the mentally closed and high-pressure state. But these are all irrelevant afterwords. Wheel of Fortune. Like watching an Ozu movie, I spent three months as an outsider in Tokyo. The intuitive feeling is that the Japanese still have not escaped the Ozu-style survival dilemma. On the one hand, they use production, entertainment and consumption to numb the pain of daily life, on the other hand. Young people are not interested in politics, and the situation of the "missing society" under the declining birthrate has intensified. There are endless personal accidents on trams. I am afraid that the whole society has not gotten rid of the mentally closed and high-pressure state. But these are all irrelevant afterwords. Wheel of Fortune. Like watching an Ozu movie, I spent three months as an outsider in Tokyo. The intuitive feeling is that the Japanese still have not escaped the Ozu-style survival dilemma. On the one hand, they use production, entertainment and consumption to numb the pain of daily life, on the other hand. Young people are not interested in politics, and the situation of the "missing society" under the declining birthrate has intensified. There are endless personal accidents on trams. I am afraid that the whole society has not gotten rid of the mentally closed and high-pressure state. But these are all irrelevant afterwords.
The word "End" appeared, the lights gradually brightened, and there were sparse applause from all around. When I went out, I found that there was a place to lay flowers for Setsuko Hara at the entrance. I stood there silently watching Setsuko Hara's brilliant smile for a while, and kept replaying her on the screen as Noriko and Akiko in my mind. In this world, there may be one less person who really understands Ozu.
View more about Late Autumn reviews
