Mother’s Watch
The Sad Truth About Noriko in Ozu’s “Tokyo Story”
The Sad Truth About Noriko in Ozu’s “Tokyo Story”
Yasujiro
Ozu’s “Tokyo Story” is still considered today as the late, great Japanese
master’s masterpiece. While he continued to make films after this 1953 classic,
well unto his death in 1963, “Tokyo Story”, along with two other films in the
so-called “Noriko Trilogy”, which includes 1949’s “Late Spring” and 1951’s
“Early Summer”, are probably his best remembered films from his storied oeuvre.
What makes
these three films stand out is Ozu’s collaboration with his homeland’s
superstar actress of the era, Setsuko Hara, whom in these three films, portrays
a character named Noriko, a typically single, “new” Japanese women that was a
new archetype of an independent woman character in post-WWII Japan. While the
characters are three separate beings, in all three films, the concern for
Noriko to marry is a primary concern and drives the plot of the first two
films.
In “Late
Spring”, Noriko is the only daughter of an aging widower, who refuses to marry
as she is happy in this current family situation, in spite of friends’ and
family’s continual pressure to do so. It is only through the ruse of her
father’s remarriage, an act Noriko finds unseemly, that she does finally bow
and goes along with her family’s marriage plans. Only at the end of the film,
does the father realize what he has lost.
The Noriko of
“Early Summer” is a single daughter whose parents, older brother and his wife,
seek a suitable marriage prospect. Noriko must also navigate the rift in her
group of friends; between the married and the singles, as they begin to grow
apart. In the end, in a sign of this new independence, does Noriko make her own
choice of husband, upsetting her parents’ plans, most especially, her brother,
by choosing to wed her childhood friend, who is also a colleague of her
brother. Still, her independence inspires her sister-in-law, who has been her
best supporter throughout.
Ozu’s has
stated on more than one occasion that his “Tokyo Story” was to have been a
lark, his foray into the genre of melodrama. Instead, he created what many
critics and fans consider to be his greatest film and a great addition in
general to the medium of film as “Tokyo Story” is constantly listed as one of
the world’s greatest films ever made.
“Tokyo Story”
is the story of an elderly couple’s trip to Tokyo to visit all of their grown
children. Two of them, the oldest son Koichi and daughter Shige live in the
suburbs, with the youngest son Keizo living in a middle district between the
rural area of the parents and the city, while the youngest daughter Kyoko still
lives at home where she is a school teacher. On this trip, the parents soon
find that their children have no time to spend with them, with the oldest son
being a neighborhood doctor and the oldest daughter running a beauty salon.
They also discover that their children are not as successful as they had hoped
leading to many discussions about generational expectation.
Eventually,
the older siblings pool their resources and send the parents to a spa to relax
and to generally get them out of the way. Much to their consternation, the
elderly couple finds the spa overrun with young people that stay up late and
party, so no relaxation is to be had. While thinking about this situation the
next morning, they decide to leave the spa early and, also, that it is time to
return home.
The Noriko of
this story is a widowed daughter-in-law who was married to the couple’s middle
child Shoji, who was lost during the war. Noriko, despite having a job with a
shipping company, drops everything to visit with her in-laws and to help the
couple enjoy their visit to Tokyo. She even tried to be there upon their
arrival, but getting there late, she meets them at the eldest son, Koichi’s
home. Next, at the urging of Shige, the eldest daughter, Noriko takes the day
off from work to take the couple sightseeing and later, in her singles apartment;
she hosts them with sake and dinner.
Due to their
early return from the spa, the parents are promptly put out as the mother goes
to stay with Noriko for the night and the next morning Noriko even gives her
mother-in-law a bit of spending money, much to her mother-in-law’s dismay.
Meanwhile, the father visits old colleagues from their village that have moved
to Tokyo, instead of getting a place to sleep, the Father ends up getting drunk
and returning to Shige’s salon for the night, much to her chagrin. The next
day, Noriko and the two eldest are present to see them off at the train
station. The only bright spot on this trip has been Noriko and her selflessness.
While they express their happiness with the trip, we know from their talks with
each other and the father’s talks with his colleagues, they are masking their
disappointment.
On the trip
home, tragedy strikes. While stopping to visit Keizo again, the mother falls
critically ill, which has been neatly foreshadowed throughout with the mother
having a dizzy spell at the spa and her constant rubbing of her left arm. Once
she gets home she falls into a coma. The children are then forced to return to their
home village for what could possibly be the last visit with their mother. When
Noriko is told about the situation at work, she goes from happy and busy to
visibly upset and brooding. This contrasts with the eldest son, who upon
getting a telegram that their mother is “critically ill”, he informs his wife
to tell Noriko, we see him at first looking forlorn, but then you realize he is
simply looking at his flower garden, more concerned with the appearance of some
of the blossoms.
Noriko stands
in clear contrast to the couple’s children with the exception being the
youngest daughter Kyoko. Noriko went out of her way to make the elderly couple
welcomed and were helped when needed. Many viewers see Noriko’s actions as
gracious and selfless in contrast to the behavior of the other siblings. They
would be correct in doing so. When, after the Mother passes on, her children do
not stay long with their Father, the eldest daughter Shige even suggests that
their father should have died first. When Shige callously asks for her mother’s
clothing Noriko stays silent.
Noriko is
visibly distraught at several points in the film. The first comes when they
first meet in Tokyo and they mention that it must be hard to live alone but her
reaction is one of surprise, no, she is not having a hard time alone. Another
time is when she hosts her in-laws at her home. They once again bring up her
husband Shoji and his drunken antics that mirror those of the father’s, she
again shows this distraught look when asked to remember those times, but is
saved by the arrival of their food via delivery. Lastly, we see Noriko react to
her mother-in-law’s pleas to remarry, to which Noriko agrees: “…if I can.” But
as they bed down for the night, anger plays across Noriko’s face. Why anger?
There seems to be a touch of anger beneath much of Noriko’s hidden reactions to
such things.
Then after
the funeral and after the older children leave, it is Noriko that stays a bit
longer with Kyoko and her father. She excitedly invites Kyoko to Tokyo for a
visit during a school break. Kyoko expresses sadness at not being able to see
Noriko off at the train station. Kyoko then admonishes her older siblings for
being selfish. Here they both take time to talk over the behavior of the older
siblings with Kyoko being angry with them and feeling sorry for her mother over
their demands and abrupt departures, “Strangers would have been more
considerate.”
Surprisingly,
Noriko defends them, Shige in particular, “A woman her age has her own
concerns.” That, “Children eventually drift away from their parents.”
“Even you?”
asks a surprised Kyoko.
“Yes,”
responds Noriko unhesitant, “Even I may become like that despite myself.”
To which
Kyoko concludes “Isn’t life disappointing.”
Noriko agrees
it is. There seems to be something beneath her answers. They exchange farewells
and Kyoko leaves for school while Noriko tidies up. Here, the father comes in
and Noriko informs him that she will be leaving on the afternoon train. Then,
father thanks her for staying so long and she demurs, saying she really did
nothing to which he disagrees. He then tells her about how mother told him how
nice it was when she stayed with Noriko. Noriko then states that she did not
have much to offer as a deflection, as if that mattered. She was there when
they needed her.
Father goes
on to say that mother said it was her happiest time in Tokyo and thanks her
again. Noriko nods but you can see the remark has made her distraught, visibly
uncomfortable with this. Father, maybe realizes this and after a short moment
of uncomfortable silence, he changes the subject to the dead son Shoji and
Noriko possibly getting remarried. He tells to get married again and “don’t
worry about me.”
He tells he
to forget Shoji, that it hurts him to see her carry on like she is. He
mentioned the picture of Shoji they saw at her apartment and its almost shrine
like positioning. Noriko insists that that is not the situation at all; that
Noriko holds Shoji in such high esteem that she almost refuses to remarry. That
is what it may look like to her parents-in-law but it may be deeper than that.
Then, when father tells her then that mother thought her to be the nicest
woman, Noriko’s reaction almost seems horrified, that no one should think of
Noriko as “nice”. Noriko says that to be thought of in such a way is
overestimating, and embarrassing. Why would she think that?
“I am not the
nice woman she thought I was,” she says, and then insists that she is quite
selfish, which seems a deflection of the praise. She goes on about Shoji and
how she does not think of him as often as they thought she did, despite
father’s insistence that he would be “happy if you forget him.” In this
vulnerability she does admit to loneliness and uncertainty if she continues on
as she is. Yet, this never sat right with me as an explanation of her
selfishness and unworthiness of such gratitude and therefore felt more
deflective. Then, this exchange follows:
“I’m
selfish”, states Noriko, matter-of-factly.
“No, you’re
not,” replies Father.
“Yes, I am,”
she states, “I could not tell this to mother.”
Father
replies, “That’s all right. You are truly a good woman. An honest woman.”
This
statement seems almost an absolution of sorts, one that Noriko clearly feels
she does not deserve.
“Not at all,”
she declares before turning her face away from him. This statement clearly
hurts Noriko. Why?
Father then
gets up to retrieve a watch mother had used and then gives it to Noriko as a
gift of gratitude for taking care of them on their trip to Tokyo and helping
during the funeral and mourning. At first Noriko rejects the watch but father
impresses on her to accept it “for her (mother’s) sake.” She quietly thanks
him. This gesture makes Noriko cry, tears begin to well in her beautiful eyes.
What makes Ozu’s
film particularly “Ozu” is that he loved to examine Japanese societal norms in
his films. How the post-WWII Japanese people deal with the westernization of
their culture and customs. In particular, how the newfound need for western
independence affected cultural tropes like arranged marriage, which is a common
theme among all of Ozu’s film. In many of his films, the elder generation is
always trying to force marriage on the lone, single Japanese woman who is at
odds with the custom, either by wanting to remain single or choosing her own
fiancée. In any case, the cultural custom is usually brought to bear and in the
end, the woman bends to and marries.
Another
custom is subtler but no less important in the context of this scene and
surprisingly no other viewer or critic has picked up on it. Ozu places in many
of his films the custom of gift giving. It is done so nonchalantly that we
immediately dismiss it as a typical day-to-day thing, like hanging up your
coat. Every time a person arrives for a visit in Ozu’s films, they bring a wrapped
box. The box is never opened and the gift is usually put aside immediately.
Film historians will remark that the custom is meaningless, which it probably
is, that it is just another trope of “polite society”; empty gestures politely
accepted due to Japanese social norms. Put into this context, mother’s watch
takes on a deeper meaning than a token of appreciation from a grateful
father-in-law. What it means I will explain in the closing paragraphs.
Father tells her
then that he wants her to be happy, that he means for her to be happy. This
remark causes Noriko to sob into her hands. While she sobs, he remarks on how
helpful she has been despite not being a blood relative. No, she has just been
doing what is expected of her by social norms. The reason they see Noriko as
selfless is because they have been the recipients of her kindness.
He then
thanks her one more time.
This time,
there is no consoling Noriko. She continues to cry into her hands, never
lifting her face to look at her father-in-law again, her hands hiding her face
and shame. We hold on Noriko crying into her hands until we cut to Kyoko’s
closing thread at the school.
Many critics
and viewers think she is holding herself up to an absurdly high standard when
she speaks with her father-in-law at the end, when she calls herself 'selfish'
and 'embarrassed' when spoken of as an honest woman. Which makes her the model
of the New Independent Japanese Woman. That is how the audience sees her as
well. Because we too, as an audience have been the recipients of her kindness
and beauty. Since the beginning of her partnership with Yasujiro Ozu, Setsuko
Hara has been mythologized into a beacon of new Japanese femininity. The
majority Western audiences (including your humble author) buy into both
Noriko’s film and Setsuko’s public images. Hara herself has been the subject of
long admiration for her image, at one point being labeled Japan’s Eternal
Virgin. We attribute Noriko’s qualities to Hara and our love for both deepens.
Yet,
realities are never what we wish them to be as Hara quit the film business at
the age of 46, shortly after Ozu’s death. You can read about the relationship
of Ozu and Hara in this excellent essay on the Criterion website.
It states in better terms of why she chose to leave. Setsuko Hara is more than
Setsuko Hara, as we learn in that essay. But we as fans of hers refuse to see it that way. We would rather
selfishly hold on to the golden image of her culled from her roles as Noriko than
to realize that Hara is indeed a flawed person. (As some of her detractors
would point out her early propagandic roles.) This is the case of Noriko in
“Tokyo Story”, she is more than the selfless daughter-in-law totally devoted to
her husband and who holds herself to such a high standard of self-judgment. We
do not want to see Noriko as a flawed person because we love the image of her
beauty and the idea of her devotion.
But, we as an
audience are forgetting something important about the story: that Noriko
herself has her own birth parents. They are never mentioned once and they are
never spoken of in the sense of whether or not they are alive. But imagine they
are both still alive, and here we find Noriko going way out of her way to
please the in-law parents of her long-dead husband, because that is what
Japanese women of the time were expected to do. Then, her comments with Kyoko
take on more poignancy, "Children
eventually drift way from their parents… …Yes, even me."
When viewed
again through the new lens of the existence of Noriko’s own birth parents and
possible siblings, we see the nuanced performance of Setsuko Hara and the
complete and utter sadness of the woman Noriko caught at the crossroads of a
changing Japan. There is a deeper sadness to Noriko that we really do not think
about in the presentation of her selflessness. We begin to see her as a deeper
construct than that of this mythical eternal virgin, as someone as deeply
flawed as the Hariyama children. A woman who made a choice of serving the
family she married into and possibly neglecting the one she was born to.
The last time
we see Noriko in the film, she is seated on the train back to Tokyo. From afar,
Kyoko sees her off from the window of the school, which foreshadows the new, more
distant relationship with Noriko and the Hariyama’s. Noriko takes the watch out
once again and holds it in her hands. Happiness does not come to her face,
maybe a slight trepidation of the future as she has been given permission to move
on and remarry, but also one of acceptance. She did not want mother’s watch at
all for what it represented to Noriko, the failure of her duty to her own
family, but gift giving custom and her father-in-law’s insistence forces her to
accept it quietly, as a reward for faithful service to her husband’s family.
Then, her
mother’s watch comes to have a double meaning for Noriko of “Tokyo Story” it is
a reward for her kindness and selfless devotion to her in-laws, but at the same
time a reminder of her possibly neglect of her own family, the sacrifice made
to conform to the social norms of Japanese society of the times….
2015 ERNEST M
WHITEMAN III