Synopsis
A woman and her daughter are each forced to contend with an increasing pressure to marry, particularly from three men who knew her late husband.
A woman and her daughter are each forced to contend with an increasing pressure to marry, particularly from three men who knew her late husband.
Setsuko Hara Yōko Tsukasa Mariko Okada Keiji Sada Miyuki Kuwano Shinichirō Mikami Shin Saburi Chishū Ryū Nobuo Nakamura Kuniko Miyake Sadako Sawamura Ryuji Kita Fumio Watanabe Yuriko Tashiro Toyo Takahashi Hisao Toake Yoshie Minami Shima Iwashita Tsûsai Sugawara Kôji Shitara Masahiko Shimazu Ayako Senno Fujio Suga Mutsuko Sakura Norikazu Takeda Tomoka Hasebe Koji Shirotani Isao Suenaga Yukari Yamashina Show All…
Akibiyori, Giorni sereni d'autunno, 가을 햇살, 만추, Fin d'automne, Otoño tardío (Fin de otoño), Tardo autunno, Spätherbst, Dias de Outono, Őszutó, Поздняя осень, O Fim do Outono, Sent om hösten, Αργοπορημένο Φθινόπωρο, Tardor tardana, Późna jesień
The laughter of the old men as they discuss how much fun they had arranging (ineptly) a marriage rings coldly as they sit, all camaraderie, without any awareness of the hurt they've caused. As a portrait of the cracks in traditional structures, this film is a fitting mirror image to Late Spring. The film captures the masculine presumptiveness that drives the men to get involved in relationships they don't need to be involved with, and the feminine frustrations of a life without a man in a patriarchal society. While I think Ozu's compassion is evident, I believe his focus is broader than merely the divide between men and women; he is exploring tradition (as always) and its complex affect on…
"It would be ideal if love and marriage always went together, but even if not, life is still worthwhile."
To begin with I have no firsthand knowledge of Japanese culture, added to which I am very much a Yasujirō Ozu novice—counting Late Autumn (秋日和) I've now seen three of his films. Though perhaps devotee would be a more apposite descriptor since what little I've seen has inspired great interest. To this end I recently sourced and devoured legendary screenwriter/director Paul Schrader's Transcendental Style in Film, an astounding critical survey—undertaken prior to Schrader's Hollywood career—which meticulously analyzes Ozu's films (as well as those of Robert Bresson and Carl Theodor Dreyer) in relation to their cultural and metaphysical origins. Though I will spare…
I am sheepish to admit that Late Autumn is my introduction to Yasujirō Ozu, yet I somehow experienced a vague comfort watching this film. Nestled by the divine symmetry of his anchored compositions, I was quickly seduced by the sublime mise-en-scène and ethereal actors depicting a reworking of social satire and family drama I know intimately as a Jane Austen devotee. Ozu is famous for his narrow focus on evolving domesticity, marriage and generational disconnect, probing those themes in microcosmic detail while offering an overarching commentary on Japanese society at large. Austen, too, wrote exclusively about love, marriage, family, community and socioeconomics through critiques of the landed gentry in late-18th/early-19th century England, often exploring the dependence of women on marriage…
✅ Low, fixed camera
✅ Naive and perpetually smiley girls
✅ Old schoolmates drinking sake
✅ Setsuko Hara, being wonderful
Welcome to the culturally fascinating world of Yasujiro Ozu.
As a long time fan of his early work I was a little nervous about Late Autumn, a full colour reimagining of his classic 1949 film 'Late Spring', one of my personal favourites from Ozu's Noriko Trilogy. No need to worry though, as this was warm and cuddly as ever, with plenty of Ozu character to deliver the carefully measured dose of Japanese-ness that I was looking for today.
A tale of family loyalty and love, at a time when getting married was one of life's obligations and the prospect of…
In this world, people love to complicate the simplest matters. Things may appear complicated, but who knows, the essence of life may be unexpectedly simple. That's what I aimed to express. - Yasujirō Ozu
Is there anything better than Ozu in color? It does more justice to the seasons specified by the title, at least those in English. And watching a film called Late Autumn only feels appropriate for this time of the year in N. America.
The mood of the film however isn't entirely austere, though the film slowly but surely veers in that direction. It revisits the premise of Late Spring, one of Ozu's best known films. But instead of a father being concerned about a marriage-age daughter,…
Coming to Ozu now feels like coming to an old friend. And seeing his actors and actresses, like seeing old friends. When I saw Chishu Ryu, I couldn't help it -- tears came. The final expression on Setsuko Hara's face is sublime. Quiet and tentative, it is such a fitting, triumphant look. It sends me all the way back to Chishu Ryu peeling his apple in Late Spring. I felt suddenly cast back. I remember how deeply I wept at that moment. How it has stuck with me for so long. The subtlest, quietest movement signalling the deepest, profoundest emotions. I think that is when I truly fell in love with Ozu. And so I unfold…
Watching characters making choices about whether to going on a date with a stranger or not based on a photo and a very reductive synopsis of their personality, employment, and interests started sounding a whole like modern dating from what I’ve heard…
"Who knows what makes for happiness in this world?"
With the changing of the seasons, I always find myself thinking of Ozu. True, this is now the beginning of autumn rather than the end, but still there is probably never a wrong moment to revisit the director's variation on his own earlier masterpiece Late Spring. Now Setsuko Hara is the parent, not the child; black-and-white cinematography has given way to full color. It is gentle, it is funny, it is poignant... it is Ozu.
Right away, there's something tragicomic in the idea of arranging marriages with pictures and résumés, offering prospective "candidates" as if for a job application. It's no wonder that 24-year-old Ayako (Yôko Tsukasa) is so wary of…
”She ought to marry.
The men get worse the longer you wait.”
When three gentlemen decide it’s time for their deceased friend’s daughter to get married, it proves to be more complicated than they imagined.
It’s always such a pleasure to relax and lose myself in the beautiful compositions and gorgeous framing of an Ozu picture.
”Even if I did fall in love,
there might be reasons why I couldn’t marry him”
Not Another Director Binge
Ozu Marathon: Part Eleven
"Forget about other people's daughters. Worry about your own."
With each new Ozu I watch, I think, okay, surely this is his darkest work, this is his harshest critique of Japanese normative cultural traditions, to such an extent that I think it must be more that I'm just getting better at reading him with each successive movie. It took me a while because he's such a humanist, but that doesn't mean he looks away from the darker side of humanity. Here his critique is aimed at the way the patriarchy sticks its nose where it doesn't belong, meddling in affairs that are none of its business, but even here, "critique" feels like…
Another bittersweet remix from the Ozu canon, a story that reworks LATE SPRING (1949) and EARLY SUMMER (1951) from a humorously strange angle. Daughters are still resisting the efforts of men trying to sculpture them into arranged marriages, but here Ozu gives us an entirely new (and frankly bizarre) perspective on how this plays out. Rather than have the generational-marital pressure originate from within the central family unit, the effort springs from three meddling strangers (all brazenly male) who really only know the women of this story as acquaintances to a deceased friend.
In other words, Ozu is telling a story about the tradition of arranged marriages from the invested interest of outsiders, men who have no business snooping into…
SOMEONE leaned over and whispered "what if this exits in the Audition cinematic universe," ruining an otherwise perfect movie.
35mm. Metrograph.