Original subtitles

COMMEMORATING THE 90TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE BIRTH OF YASUJIRO OZU

YASUJIRO OZU December 12, 1903 - December 12, 1963

A SHOCHIKU FILM

I'm director Stanley Kwan of Hong Kong.

I remember it was in 1976.

My college professor suggested I see a movie,

which was "Tokyo Story."

It was the first Ozu film I'd seen.

It deeply impressed me.

It reminded me of some old Chinese proverbs:

"The wind never lets trees rest calmly."

"Observe filial piety."

I think it was because my father died when I was 13.

"Tokyo Story" reminded me of him.

I was born toward the end of the 1950s.

I grew up during Hong Kong's economic growth.

Though I was just a child,

I could see the rich were very rich and the poor, very poor.

My family wasn't wealthy.

We lived in a very small house.

I had very mixed feelings toward my father.

First of all, when he was home,

he seemed under a lot of stress from his work.

He had a lot of brothers and sisters,

and the problem was my father was sort of shy.

He felt a certain pressure because his relatives didn't think

he would grow up to be a success.

That made him feel worse,

but, since he was timid, he seldom mentioned his mental burden.

In any case, I think he loved my sister and brother more than me.

I bore a grudge against him.

I rememberl didn't cry at his funeral.

At his cremation, I was the one to turn on the incinerator.

It was considered the eldest son's job.

At that moment,

I realized for the first time that he was gone.

I wept out loud.

So just seeing that scene in "Tokyo Story"

where the parents are seated on the riverbank,

my tears wouldn't stop.

Actually...

Ozu's films helped me grow up.

I found them enlightening. I remember another movie of his:

"I Was Born, But..."

The children in that movie see their father as a great man.

They respect him.

But later they see him

kowtow to his boss.

They see their father cowering, and they're disillusioned.

As a child, I felt the same way,

because my family wasn't well off.

As a junior high student, I would stop off

at my aunt's on my way home.

She was kind to my father.

She helped our family financially.

I was still a child, but I remember

even her employees eyed me with suspicion.

Judging from that,

I guess my father was

regarded as a shady character back then.

"My heart is too full for words. Give me some time."

After seeing many of Ozu's films,

although their focus was family life in Japan,

the characters in his films are very universal.

In Ozu's films I can see my father,

my mother, my brother and sister,

and sometimes myself too.

It's like reflections in a mirror.

Ozu-san.

I'm Aki Kaurismäki from Finland.

I've made 11 lousy films, and it's all your fault.

In London in 1976,

my brother forced me to visit the Film Institute,

where I saw "Tokyo Story."

After that, I gave up my dreams about literature.

I decided to begin my search for a red kettle.

I grew up under the influence of American movies.

What I respect most

is that Ozu never needed

to use murder or violence

to tell everything that's essential about human life.

So far I've made 11 lousy films,

and I've decided to make another 30...

because I refuse to go to my grave...

until I have proved

to myself

that I'll never reach your level, Mr. Ozu.

I chose this old factory for shooting

because I have a tendency...

to look to the past.

I'm not a person who presses forward

with confidence in the future and in technology.

I prefer to look back.

I think Ozu was like that too

during his time in Japan.

The epitaph on my grave will be “I Was Born, But...“

"Arigato."

My name is Claire Denis.

I too am a film director. I live in France.

The first time I saw one of Ozu's films -

What I have to say is very simple. lt's just that -

I'd already heard a lot about his films from American and French friends.

And I have a bit of

a distaste for worshipping any particular film director.

Besides, I was strongly drawn to lmamura's and Oshima's films,

which I had seen at the Cinémathèque.

So I let time pass.

I didn't run right out to see Ozu's films.

Besides, they were shown more often in France back then.

Then a cinema in the Latin Quarter held a retrospective of Ozu's films.

I don't remember if it was summer or winter.

Almost by chance,

I wandered in and saw

"An Autumn Afternoon."

That was the first film by Yasujiro Ozu that I ever saw.

I think from that point on -

I knew that the film had spoken to me

and addressed me in a way

that had nothing to do with being a film buff.

I'll tell you a story - though it isn't all that significant -

since Ozu's picture is right here in front of me.

I have a grandfather who's not French.

He's dead now. He was Brazilian.

He was olive-skinned, with a little moustache.

He always wore a light-coloured shirt and a cloth hat.

Which is why when I first saw Ozu's picture,

I had a strong feeling that perhaps he -

There was nothing foreign about it,

even though he was from Japan, a country I'd never visited.

I felt close to him.

Much later, I saw "Late Spring"...

which is a movie I like very much and a wonderful story,

and also one that has connections to my own life.

Before leaving you, I'd like to read a scene from "Late Spring"

with Chishu Ryu and Setsuko Hara.

It's from the end of the film.

The daughter doesn't want to leave her father for her husband.

"I want to stay here with you, Father. That would make me happy."

I don't want to go away.

I want to stay here with you, Father.

That would make me happy.

Marriage couldn't make me any happier.

This is enough.

That's not right.

Yes, it is.

I don't mind if you remarry.

I still want to stay with you.

I'm fond of you, Father.

I'm happiest staying here with you like this.

Please, Father. Let me stay with you.

I don't think getting married will make me any happier.

You're wrong.

That's not how life is.

I'm already 56.

My life is nearing its end.

But yours is just beginning.

You're about to start a new life,

and you must build it with your husband.

I have no place in it.

That's the cycle in the history of human life.

“That's the cycle in the history of human life.”

Good-bye, then.

"Konnichi wa."

My name is Wim Wenders.

I'm a filmmaker from Berlin,

and you're here in my office.

I have a picture of Yasujiro Ozu in front of me,

and I'd like to speak a bit about him - and to him.

If you take the Yokosuka train line from Shinagawa

towards Kita-Kamakura,

you come to a large cemetery.

And when you get to Engakuji Temple

and tum right and go up the hill,

with a little luck, you 'll find a grave.

It's the grave of the Japanese director Ozu,

who was born 90 years ago

and died on his birthday almost exactly 30 years ago.

lt's the grave of a filmmaker who for me -

and I can only speak subjectively -

elevated film, the art form of the 20th century,

to its most beautiful form,

one that cannot be imitated or repeated.

For me, his work is something of a cinematic shrine.

For that reason, visiting his grave has always been like a pilgrimage for me.

People think, especially these days, that it's the Americans

who make universal films.

You can go anywhere in the world today

and see all the same American movies.

So more and more you get the impression that American cinema

can claim it's universal

and, so to speak, tells the universal story

of the family.

But since coming to know Ozu's films, that's no longer the case for me.

His is the most universal film language that I know.

I had the great fortune

of speaking and even working

with two men who knew Ozu themselves.

One is the cinematographer Yuharu Atsuta,

who told me a great deal about Ozu's way of working

and about the exactitude and precision

with which Ozu himself arljusted every detail in the picture

and the actors' every word and movement.

Especially with what precision he would move objects here or there,

and how objects were just as important to him

as the dialogue and characters.

And in this precision and exactitude

I came to notice an affection

or a love that was visible in his films

that was simply a love for life itself,

for whatever was in front of the camera.

Atsuta gave me this sake bottle, which Ozu himself used.

I keep it in my office here. It's my shrine.

I usually keep it where it can't be broken, but for now I'll set it here.

Then I got to know Ryu Chishu,

who, like Atsuta, was involved in nearly all of Ozu's films.

It's unbelievable how we can watch a man's entire life unfold.

He appears first as a young man,

then gradually grows into the role of a father,

and then finally becomes a grandfather

and an old man.

So we can follow a person's entire life on the screen.

And in Ozu's gaze,

his soulful, affectionate gaze -

I don't believe there's an actor in the whole world -

unfortunately, Ryu died this year-

there's never been an actor in this world whose entire life

was captured from a single point of view and in such a loving way.

For that reason, Ryu Chishu has become for me

a sort of universal father.

If I were to tell the story of a father or a grandfather,

I couldn't imagine any other actor.

For me, he has become the father in cinema.

And the universal family is the one that appears

in every possible variation in Ozu's work.

I''ve seen my own family reflected there,

and families in America and Australia and France.

For me, "family" throughout the world

has become imaginable and understandable only through Ozu's films.

I'm director Hou Hsiao-hsien of Taiwan.

Yoroshiku.</i>

"Tokyo Story" impressed me greatly.

Shochiku is making a documentary to commemorate

the 30th anniversary of Ozu's death.

I took this opportunity to watch many of Ozu's films.

The ones I liked best were

"Late Spring," "Early Summer,"

and "Tokyo Story," which I watched again.

I think

Ozu is like a mathematician.

He knew the lives of Japanese people very well

and depicted them in his work.

It's as if he analyzed them in a detached way.

That's why I called him a mathematician.

He always used the family as a backdrop.

He depicted the relationship between two generations.

I saw many of Ozu's films,

and in most of them, a daughter gets married.

These events take place in different periods,

and each is shown from a different perspective and in a different context.

That's a very difficult challenge for an artist,

because you can't film the same theme repeatedly

without great self-confidence.

I've watched a lot of Ozu's films recently,

and I'm about to make

my own films depicting contemporary Taiwan.

Ozu's films were a revelation to me.

I used to think

my observations and insight into the human condition

were very objective,

but I can't compare with Ozu.

So...

I think we 're fortunate that a director like Ozu

lived in Japan when he did.

"Mu" (Nothingness)

General Producer TORU OKUYAMA

Executive Producer SHIZUO YAMANOUCHI

Director of Photography TAKASHI KAWAMATA

Produced by 5HOJI YAKIGAYA and TOSHINOBU OMINE

Music by KOJUN SAITO

Photography by YOSHIMASA HAKATA

Sound Recording by YASUO HASHIMOTO

Edited by TOMOYO OSHIMA

Produced by SHOCHIKU CO., LTD.

Directed by KOGI TANAKA