Now universally regarded as a master of world cinema, Ozu Yasujiro began directorial his career at the Shochiku studio in the late 1920s making mostly comedies. The Japanese film industry was still in the silent era – Ozu did not make his first all-talking picture until 1936, and local comedies were heavily influenced by Hollywood models.
Ozu felt this influence as well – he was a dedicated student of Ernst Lubitsch’s sophisticated comedies, but from an early stage his films reflected current social conditions in Japan, as well as incorporating the signature stylistics that came to be known as “Ozu-esque.”
One often-cited example is I Was Born But…, Ozu’s 1932 comedy about two boys who lose respect for their salaryman (company employee) father when they see him playing the clown for his boss. After arguing with him over what they perceive as the unfairness of it all (including the unfairness of deferring to the boss’s wimpy son) they go on a brief hunger strike.
While its kid-centered humor is quite funny, the film realistically depicts the precarious situation of the era’s middle class, as well as the pain the boys feel on discovering that their father is not the superman of their childish imaginings.
Nearly three decades on, Ozu revisited this story in Good Morning (Ohayō, 1959), his second color film. By this time he was a renowned director whose films had won every big domestic award.
Also, by the late 1950s Japan was quickly becoming an economically dynamic, middle-class society, with ordinary Japanese starting to enjoy a lifestyle, including consumer goods such as washing machines, televisions and cars, unimaginable in the impoverished , chaotic early postwar years.
Working with Noda Kogo, his frequent scriptwriting partner since his early silent comedies, Ozu reworked the story of Good Morning in something quite different from its 1932 model. In place of the scrappy brothers of I Was Born But…, bossing around the local children soon after moving into a new neighborhood, the two boys of the new film get along peacefully with the other children in their housing development.
After they discover the delights of television watching sumo (Japanese-style wrestling) bouts at a neighbor’s house, the boys demand that their parents buy a set of their own, but are bluntly refused, with their father (Ryu Chishu) telling them angrily to be quiet. The older boy, Minoru (Shitara Koji), protests the injustice of this loudly, with his younger brother Isamu (Shimazu Masahiko) chiming in. Telling his parents he is disgusted with the polite-but-meaningless words and phrases adults are always using (including the title of the film), Minoru takes a vow of silence, as does little Isamu, though he struggles to keep it.
This situation-comedy story line is rather thin, but Ozu fleshes it out with a myriad of small-but-sharp observations on the lives of the housing development residents, from gossipy housewives who blow up minor misunderstandings into reputation-damaging accusations to weary older men sharing drinks in a bar and musing gloomily about the future.
But for all its serious, even somber notes, the film’s overall mood is light and playful, with one running joke being farts signaled with musical toots.
Featuring Ozu’s characteristic low angles and fixed camera positions, Good Morning is bustling with life, as characters pop briskly in and out of its meticulously composed, deep-focus exterior shots. Meanwhile, the dialog scenes weave the polite phrases Minoru finds so objectionable into naturalistic exchanges that reveal character and advance the story with a subtle but lively rhythm.
In short, Good Morning is accessible Ozu for those find the thought of his major films, with their weighty themes and high critical acclaim, a bit forbidding. But it’s enjoyable Ozu for anyone.
Mark Schilling