Saturday, February 28, 2015

Mother's Watch


Mother’s Watch
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 fiancĂ©e. 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