NR | 2h 20m | Drama | 1972
This memory crystallized when I revisited Yasujiro Ozu’s, “Floating Weeds” (1970). Ozu seemed to be artistic predecessor to Koreeda. While Koreeda himself has stated that filmmakers like Ken Loach and Mikio Naruse influenced him more than anyone else, it’s hard to ignore the striking similarities between Koreeda’s and Ozu’s works.
Both directors explore slice-of-life narratives. They focus on the struggles of ordinary people, with a penchant for slow-burn pacing that culminates in some heavy revelations.
An Unfortunate Break From Tradition
Ozu’s favorite actor, Chishu Ryu, portrays Shukichi Sugiyama, a calm, introspective man who is grappling with the challenges of raising two daughters on his own. No matter how much he tries to be kind yet firm with them, they seem to drift further away from him.Shukichi’s eldest daughter, Takako Numata (Setsuko Hara), returns home with her infant daughter, seeking refuge from a broken marriage. Her husband, Yasuo Numata (Kinzo Shin), is supposedly emotionally distant, leaving Takako caught between her desire for a stable home and what she perceives to be an insufferable situation.
Takako assumes the role of the steadying force in the household, offering support to her father while trying to positively influence her younger sister, Akiko Sugiyama (Ineko Arima).
Fractures and Eventual Healing
As the film unfolds, the household’s delicate balance is disrupted by the sudden return of Kisako (Isuzu Yamada), Akiko and Takako’s long-estranged mother who had abandoned her family years earlier. Kisako’s reappearance stirs up old wounds for Shukichi, who had quietly endured the betrayal of his wife’s affair and abandonment. His calm, composed exterior hides his pain, and it’s clear that the scars from their fractured relationship never fully healed. Kisako’s arrival forces the family to confront the emotional trauma she left behind.Akiko, in particular, seems most affected by Kisako’s return. While she harbors deep resentment toward her mother for abandoning her, she’s also drawn to her, yearning for the maternal love she'd lost.
Ozu’s exploration of family dynamics is further enhanced by his depiction of post-war Tokyo. The city, with its bustling streets, smoky alleys, and neon lights, becomes a character in its own right, reflecting changes in the world that the Sugiyama family inhabits.
As always, Ozu’s direction is minimalist and elegant. His trademark static shots and restrained compositions focus on the emotional core of each scene. There are no dramatic camera movements or flashy cinematic techniques here. Instead, Ozu captures his characters’ inner worlds through their interactions with their environment. The sights and sounds of everyday life—the clink of dishes, the shuffle of slippers on tatami mats—give the film a sense of realism, allowing the viewer to experience these moments alongside its characters.
“Tokyo Twilight” is a thought-provoking film about the intersections of love, regret, and the complexities of family life. Ozu’s film is a portrait of family members struggling to reconcile their past with their present. The film explores the human condition and the crucial importance of traditional family values. Its message lingers, not through grand gestures or melodrama, but through its delicate handling of ordinary moments.