Tokyo Story (Blu-ray) [2020]

Very serious, very beautifully acted, very well worth watching!

It has taken some time for me to get round to checking out Ozu and go beyond my first Asian cinema loves, Kurosawa, Miyazaki, Shaw Brothers Kung Fu and Korean drama.Ozu's touching Tokyo Story needs no big sell or introduction since it has appeared on all time top film lists since its release in the 50s, but he is the kind of film maker who is so calm in his delivery that he's far too easy to look over. I wish I had not because I could not take my eyes off of it. Anyone like me who thought they understood their Japanese family after many years of marriage should watch this. But also anyone else who is not quite sure what people mean when they are called selfish.Yes selfishness is at the heart of this story and the window into the true soul of any family is beautifully portrayed here by a master observer of people.In pure film making terms I'd say Ozu's style is like running water. The screen despite lack of panning or much movement is placed before you like a monumental boulder stuck in a flowing stream. Each angle is mostly looking up or across, the framing squared by the calm interior style of papered walls meets often chaotic bustling views or open landscapes in far side open windows. Westernised industry pulses at the edge of post war Japan and this film for me much like Grave Of The Fireflies and Barefoot Gen encapsulates a self portrait of Japan that oozes quiet passion and a dignified sadness.It is as good as many say and this BFI edition contains fabulous bonuses.....including great documentaries, interviews and a bonus Ozu movie!! Yay.

Decades later the story is still relevant and relatable. I'd recommend it to anyone who enjoys a moment of reflection.

The quality of this particular BFI offering is superb, in visual and audio aspects.Included a detailed booket too.The story line will resonate even more so today in very continent where family unity has fragmented and siblings sheer focus of getting ahead at any cost in a city leaving your aged parents behind to cope on their own.If after watching this film, you don't reflect on your own experience with your parents, then you have missed the entire movie so well scripted and directed by true cinema makers.Watch it, you will appreicate what you have.

This is a review of the older BFI package which had Tokyo Story on both DVD and BD and Brothers and Sisters of the Toda Family on DVD only. Here both films have now been re-released on a single BD and with extra content. I thought I'd post my old review here again as it deals mainly with films as opposed to the packaging and the transfers. Ozu was a genius and I want to give his films all the help I can...***************************************************BROTHERS AND SISTERS OF THE TODA FAMILY (Todake no kyôdai)(Japan, 1941, 100 minutes, b/w, Japanese language - English subtitles, Original aspect ratio 1.33:1)This was a landmark film for Ozu. His 38th feature, it was his first box office hit and together with the following hugely popular There was a Father (Chichi Ariki) (1942) it cemented the trust that Shochiku studio had in him following his return from fighting in China, paving the way for an extraordinarily fertile post-war period. Ozu wrote the story with his regular collaborator Ikeda Tadao, but this was the first time cinematographer Yuharu Atsuta and actors Saburi Shin and Takamine Mieko worked with him. All would be Ozu regulars from this film onwards.The film charts the disintegration of the rich Toda family introduced at the beginning by a family photograph session taking place in their imposing back garden to celebrate the birthday of Mrs. Toda (Katsuragi Ayako). She and her husband Shintaro (Fujino Hideo) have five grown up children, two sons and three daughters. It takes time for the film to introduce these characters, and at the beginning it is only the second unmarried son, Shojiro (Saburi Shin) who stands out because of his bad manner. His tardiness for the photo and his immediate disappearance to go fishing would appear to mark him out as a bad egg, but actually in typical Ozu fashion he undergoes a redemption and turns out to be the only offspring/sibling worthy of the name. The evening of the photo session, the patriarch of the family has a heart attack and in a trademark ellipse we cut straight from sibling reaction to the otsuya (the ceremony performed on the eve of the funeral) shown with a camera shot of an array of the guests' bowler hats on a tatami floor, the ceremony taking place in the next room. Shojiro's tardiness is again emphasized. The siblings gather later to digest the news that their father has died leaving massive debts that must be paid by selling off family property and artifacts. This leaves the widowed matriarch and the youngest unmarried daughter, Setsuko (Takamine Mieko) in a state of penury and totally reliant on the charity of the older married siblings.Ozu demonstrates the cold selfishness of the second generation over the events of the next year. With Shojiro working in China, at first the two ladies live with the eldest son, Shinichiro (Saito Tatsuo) and his self-obsessed wife Kazuko (Miyake Kumiko) who uses them as servants, getting rid of them when she receives guests and ordering them to go shopping for her. Unable to stand the humiliation, the two victims try their luck with the eldest sister Chizuru (Yoshikawa Mitsuko) who is even worse than Kazuko. A terrible snob, she forbids Setsuko to get a job for fear of embarrassing the family and attacks her own mother for conniving with her truant-playing son. The downward spiral reaches rock bottom when the two `exiles' visit the second sister, Ayako (Tsubouchi Yoshiko). In Japanese culture it is rude to ask for anything. You have to wait to be asked by the other person who hopefully is sensitive to your need. So when the pair tell Ayako they plan to move back into the dilapidated old family home the sister is supposed to recognize her responsibility and offer them her house. Instead, in crass violation of basic Japanese courtesy she seizes the chance to get rid of them by supporting their proposal.Ozu's treatment of the story is typically simple and direct. There are no arguments, no histrionics, just quiet defiance and the spirit of `gaman' (toleration) shown by the victims. And yet their plight is rendered so terribly moving through subtle means - Setsuko complaining to her friend Tokiko (Kuwano Kayoko) in very mild terms, Mrs. Toda's resigned tolerance of Chizuru's selfish bullying of her, and in simple cutaways to the picture of the dead husband on the wall presiding over events and the caged bird symbolizing their owners' caged existence. The sadness of the film is leavened by the happy conclusion, Shojiro returning from China for the father's ishuki (first year death anniversary) to tick off his siblings. He sends them all packing and agrees to look after his mother and Setsuko by taking them back to China with him. He even agrees to an arranged marriage with Setsuko's dull friend Tokiko. The caged bird also gets to join in the fun. The idea of a Japanese family escaping to a country against which they had been fighting an aggressive war for over a decade might raise a few eye-brows in today's western audiences, but the film's concluding lightness and satirical touch is entirely typical of Ozu's pre-war style. As Tokyo Story reflects, things in Japan were about to take an altogether darker turn.TOKYO STORY (Tôkyô Monogatari)(Japan, 1953, 136 minutes, b/w, Japanese language - English subtitles, Original aspect ratio 1.33:1)With so many glowing reviews and articles on the net celebrating this glorious film, it is difficult for me to know what else I could possibly add. It is one of my favorites and indeed it's difficult to imagine a more perfect film. As always with Ozu the subject is family, specifically the relationships between parents and children and the generation conflict that rages between them. This conflict is on one level entirely natural, but in his post-war films there is a second level of enforced melancholy imposed by Japan's defeat in World War II.The film opens on a quiet coastal town scene (a place called Onomichi in southwest Japan) with images of transience and impending change - boats move in the harbor, a train is seen and a whistle is heard. Watch carefully here as the images are echoed right at the end giving the film a miraculous sense of balance. We cut to an old couple, Shukichi and Tomi Hirayama (the wonderful Ryû Chishû and the no-less perfect Higashiyama Chieko) who are packing for an impending trip. The film's `drama', if it can be called that, revolves around their trip to Osaka and Tokyo to visit their four grown-up children, leaving the fifth unmarried youngest daughter Kyôko (Kagawa Kyôko) behind. Following the pattern of Toda Family they visit their offspring in descending order of age and find that each one of them is so involved in their own lives that they have no time to treat their parents properly. The oldest son Koichi (Yamamura So) is a pediatrician who with his wife spoil their two children rotten and fail to acknowledge their responsibilities. Feeling like intruders, the old couple move on to the eldest daughter, Shige (Sugimura Haruko). Shige runs a hairdressing salon and is reluctant to give over space and time to the couple. She and Koichi decide to get rid of the old couple, splitting the cost and booking them into a noisy inn at the seaside where they spend a very uncomfortable night - the scene where they are disturbed in bed by the noise with the camera simply pointing at their slippers outside their door is heart-breaking.The next morning Tomi complains of a slight pain in her back. That's all we need in an Ozu film to know that tragedy is not far away. They return to Tokyo and don't know where to go. Both Koichi and Shige have shown little signs of welcome and they bide their time in Ueno Park (a place known in Japan as a place where derelicts hang out). The couple decide to split up, Tomi imposing on Noriko (Hara Setsuko), the widowed wife of their son Shoji who was killed in the war, and Shukichi going drinking with two old mates. These two scenes are very interesting, the first dwelling on Japan's loss in the war, the sacrifices Noriko has had to make and the feeling that she must stop dwelling on the past and think to the future by searching out a new husband. The second depicts the disappointment of the old generation in the lack of ambition of the new. Again, the transformation in Japanese society is subtly dealt with by the acknowledgment that children can never grow up to satisfy their parents enough. A very funny drunk scene (you would never guess Ryû Chishû is playing a character 20 years older than his real life age) where he and his friend crash in on Shige is followed by the next morning's brief farewell scene at Tokyo station. Ozu inserts one of his astonishing ellipses which omits the train ride, shows the couple briefly in their youngest son Keizo's (Osaka Shirô) apartment with a brief reference to Tomi's sickness on the train, and the next thing we know they are home in Onomichi and the siblings are making preparations to visit Tomi who is now critically ill.The film's pulsing heart lies in the absolutely staggering performance of Hara Setsuko as Noriko (this film is part three of the so-called `Noriko Trilogy', the other two being Late Spring and Early Summer where Hara plays two other - unconnected - characters of the same name). She is the only one who displays love and consideration to her parents-in-law as she takes them sight-seeing around Tokyo and puts up Tomi, her dark dingy apartment demonstrating that though she has suffered greatly she gives much more to Tomi than any of her richer siblings in-law. In a sequence which says everything about the heart-breaking subtlety of Ozu's style, when everyone convenes in Onomichi it turns out that Noriko hasn't brought her mofuku (funeral kimono) with her. She has come only thinking her mother-in-law will live. Shige however arrives with her mofuku at the ready and after Tomi passes away she demands to take Tomi's kimono and obi (the kimono's belt) in a very cold fashion. One lady has come to Onomichi thinking about life and what she can do to help her mother-in-law while the other lady has come only thinking about death and how she can make something out of it.And yet, the beauty of the film lies in Ozu's even-handed treatment of the characters. Even the worst characters are shown to be sympathetic as shown in the wonderful final dialog when Kyôko is leaving Noriko for the last time. She complains bitterly about how cold and selfish her siblings are, but the worldly wise Noriko advises that their behavior is simply normal. In the straightened condition of post-war Japan people really only have time to think about themselves and it is right to prioritize the concerns of their own offspring over their parents. As Noriko says, that is the nature of life. And really if we look closely at the behavior of the older siblings, both Koichi and Shige are trapped by their circumstances. Koichi can't take care of his parents because he has patients to tend while as despicable as Shige's behavior appears to be (especially to western eyes) when she breaks down into tears on hearing her mother is about to die, she is completely redeemed (we must remember that Sugimura Haruko was deeply beloved of Japanese audiences). Ozu is even careful not to make the old people completely `good'. There are references to Shukichi's past heavy drinking and his comment that he regrets not having been kinder to his wife while she was alive. The film is full of very real tangible emotion, but it never overflows into sentimental soap as the same story would in a Hollywood version. The ending of this film is the most moving ending in all of cinema and it's achieved with the most delicate restraint.Tokyo Story is always singled out for huge praise, but this is because it was the only one of Ozu's films to be released overseas during this period. There are two reasons for this. The first is that it's slightly more melodramatic (and therefore `accessible') than usual for Ozu, while the second is that the story of an old couple being spurned by the younger generation is something western audiences can easily relate to, the film being less `Japanese' than other masterpieces from this period like Late Spring and Early Summer which carry cultural references which might seem opaque to foreigners. Lovers of Ozu will know though that a number of his films are indeed on the same exalted level as Tokyo Story. To ask which one is Ozu's best is rather like asking which Beethoven symphony (or should I say `Bach cantata'?) is the best. The question is redundant - all his films demand to be seen.

Rightly considered Ozu’s masterpiece and rightly so. This is a fine version of the film and some great extras included.I’m not a fan of BFI products, but this one is one of their best.A lesson for film makers and a must see for film buffs.

It touches on the human condition better than any work of art I have ever seen. I guess only life can give you the full experience, yet this comes close. A perfect film in every single way.