Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Speed + Sound

An Autumn Afternoon (1962)
directed by Yasujiro Ozu
rating: 4 out of 5 cravats
on DVD from Netflix

I admit it. Sometimes I read design blogs and think of what it would be like to live inside a Yasujiro Ozu film. It embarrasses and shames me; I imagine my dog walking through three paper walls for a Milk Bone. When I watch Ozu's movies, I try to be careful with my navel-gazing materialism. All great directors pay attention to their surroundings, but Ozu in particular wants to see where his characters go: where they drink, where they sleep, how they get to a wedding.

Famous for his static camera, he is nonetheless able to convey all the motion and change of a daily routine in the details of a few select transitions. More than just a series of establishing shots, Ozu takes advantage of the silences between scenes to retrace his characters' steps. What do they think about while they wait for the train? For the elevator? What about the driving range at the top of a high-rise, where the wind blows breezy and cool? If the emotional shifts matter, the physical space does, too.

In An Autumn Afternoon, practical jokes are as common as pregnant pauses. Backlit bar signs and Tokyo neon provide more light than table lamps, and men spend more time drunk than sober. These are well-meaning people with minor failings, and Ozu is careful not to stack the deck against them. It is a beautiful film and a lively one - a modern tale for the modern world.