An Autumn Afternoon — Criterion Collection — dvd review
Director: Yasujiro Ozu
Starring: Chishu Ryu, Shima Iwashita, Kiyoko Kishida, Keiji Sada
Genre: Drama
I’ve been sitting on this review for quite some time now, but I guess it’s time to get it out the door. Having not been able to come up with a suitable introduction, I’m just going to jump right in.
Yasujiro Ozu’s final film has been almost universally hailed by critics as a masterpiece, but to be completely honest, I’m a little puzzled by their unanimous acclaim. I’m not as familiar with Ozu’s body of work as I probably should be, but I’ve seen a few, and found them all enjoyable. However, An Autumn Afternoon was the least emotionally engaging, and most oddly executed work I’ve encountered.
An Autumn Afternoon’s narrative will probably be familiar territory for most Ozu enthusiasts, depicting an elderly widower (Chushu Ryu, Dreams, The Funeral) realizing the need to release his devoted and doting daughter (Shima Iwashita, Double Suicide, Red Lion) to marriage, and coming face to face with the ephemeral, and pervasively mundane nature of his own existence. Much of his enlightenment comes by way of observances of an elderly failure (the tales’ Gourd, an old retired teacher whose inability to let go resulted in an ornery old maid daughter), the promising futures of young engaged females, and the endless pressure of his peers. At first glance it’s fairly warm and fuzzy subject matter, even despite the fact it largely concerns the protagonist’s need to let go of the past. But upon further inspection, one might notice the protagonist’s motivation to marry off his daughter proves more suspect than empathetic, as he seeks to marry her off to 
someone – anyone at all – as soon as possible. The question of romance beyond an initial attraction is never raised, leading me to believe the task at hand was one of avoiding embarrassment more-so than ensuring the happiness and security of his loving daughter. It’s worth noting here that there are a few other subplots concerning second wives, May/September relationships, and Japan’s loss of the war. These I enjoyed a bit more, but on the whole they were just cursory themes in the larger, simpler story.
My second issue with the film was the way in which every single dialog was portrayed. Ozu opted for a strangely jarring and surprisingly unsettling technique of putting the audience directly in the middle of the conversation (decades before Jonathan Demme, whose implementation of the same technique in The Silence of the Lambs resulted in a half hour of gushing praise on NPR), with every character taking turns speaking their lines directly to the camera. This could be overlooked, if not for the fact that the end of every character’s turn sees a strange pause before complementary edit/perspective shift and continuation of the conversation – much like the seek time for old dialog-driven FMV computer games. As the adage says, half of acting is reacting, and with almost no chance to observe any character’s reaction, and the oddly stuttered rhythm of the conversation there was little chance to really empathize with their situations. Granted, after an hour or so of viewing the film, I grew used to the technique, but it was none the less flawed despite my eventual acclimation.
That all said, in the end I enjoyed viewing An Autumn Afternoon. I just wouldn’t place it highly on any list of classical Japanese films — even an Ozu-exclusive list. If you’re an Ozu completist, by all means check it out. If not, you might want to check out Tokyo Story of even the underrated Good Morning instead.
The DVD
It goes without saying the Criterion transfer is exemplary. Video, audio, and subtitles are all top notch. Rounding out the disc (no pun intended) are an audio commentary by David Bordwell (author of Ozu and the Poetics of Cinema), an excerpt from a French documentary regarding Ozu’s career, the film’s original theatrical trailer, and a 28-page insert containing essays by film critics and scholars Geoff Andrew and Donald Ritchie.
All in all, par for the course for Criterion, and at a surprisingly affordable price. My recommendation from above still stands, but if you’re on the edge about a purchase, you’d do well to pick it up.
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