"Late Spring" - Film Review

Yasujiro Ozu mostly made films that were about family. They were about the things we do to eachother and to ourselves in the name of family. They’re quiet melodramas. Austerely, minimalistic films that are unassuming. The camera rarely moves, and the story moves along at a slow but assured pace. It's hard to not make this sound textbook or to cheapen the impact and craft of this. Best put, he's observing these people, not telling a story about them. Ozu’s simplicity is deceiving; the tales he spins are specific and yet highly universal.

Late Spring is about marriage and father-daughter relationships, and out of such subject matter we might expect a watered down and overly familiar story about the value of family and the meaning of marriage. But the real genius of Ozu is how he paints out the perspectives of multiple characters, all differing, and then never states which should be the one we take home with us. These perspectives are all the more affecting as they come from people of different generations (another Ozu thematic favorite).

There’s an understated generational conflict at the center of this film. The daughter Noriko (Setsuko Hara) doesn’t want to marry. The father Shukichi (Chishu Ryu) wants her to get married. But the father doesn’t want her to marry because he’s being paternalistic and patriarchal (he never forces her to get married, only makes the suggestion). Certainly he’s doing it because of the values of traditional Japanese society, but he’s more importantly doing it so he’s no longer a burden to his daughter. She’s taken care of him her whole life, to the point where being his caretaker has become her life. She doesn’t mind this though; she loves her father and is upset that she won’t be able to help him anymore. 

Here we see a generational gap. The daughter is part of a generation moving away from traditional values, in this case in regards to marriage. Her friend is a stenographer, living for herself. She considers entering this line of work.  

Everyone in the film throws out their opinion on marriage and its importance. It’s telling that nearly everyone who gives an opinion isn’t married. They’re widowed, divorced, or single. But they’re all quick to speak the praises of marriage and its virtues. Everyone keeps attempting to set her up with someone. They’re looking for it to happen so much that they mistake an engaged man as a potential suitor. 

She does end up marrying by film’s end, but it’s on some level a great sacrifice for both her and her father. There’s a lot of undeniable love and affection between these two and they’re giving up something they care about dearly to ensure the happiness and betterment of the other.   

Her father convinces her to marry when he tells her that he himself is getting remarried (He's lying). This is something that startles, and slightly repulses, Noriko. Despite her shift away from tradition, she's still traditional in this regard. These are humans; selfish, jealous, sometimes thoughtless, sometimes too thoughtful. They contradict, they compromise, they hurt, they settle. And life keeps moving along. 

Ozu really makes the story hit home. It feels so true to life that it's emotions are deeply felt. Ozu has this inexplicable, mesmerizing power to slowly draw us into the story; the first half is leisurely, languid, while the second is driven, eventful, drawing in events from earlier on. We sympathize with these characters because we all know someone like this. Late Spring quietly and movingly makes you consider your own family, your own life. This father and this daughter try to make eachother happy, and in the end they tear eachother apart.

Grade: A