“Can your dads take out their teeth like my dad?”

Jostlings for superiority, shufflings for power, and contests of strength – flurries of action that settle into hierarchies – these games are played out in the neighborhood spaces where boys vie for sparrows’ eggs and in the workspace where men vie for the biggest laugh from the boss. Who eventually becomes general, who becomes lieutenant general, and who becomes the one slain by an invisible bullet firing forth from the finger of another is as arbitrary and ridiculous as it is terribly serious.

The revelation that a father’s position relies on such arbitrary and demeaning ridiculousness disrupts two boys’ own sense of position and self. Indignant and grand, the boys…

There was tragedy in coming of age, days of realizations of unknown facts around their nose. Looking at the world around them with such extreme angles; so below, upside down, hiding behind their naivety. We were once one of those brats. Facing bullying, thinking that our dad was the big deal, our family was so adjusted with no lacking. And then the universe gave us hints of conversation; an introduction of social stratum topic that could make us go, "Why can't we afford these things when our neighbor could afford them without thinking?" and "I thought we were rich?" and "Why does dad do so much uncool things to please his boss?" and other questions about the position they hold…

I was born, but then I grew up and learned that hero worship is a bitch of a thing. I was born, but then I grew up and discovered that real power is not acquired by what I learned on the playground and schoolyards. Power and hero worship are the twin pillars of Ozu's domestic, coming-of-age, cross-examining tale between old and young generations. Keiji and Ryoichi, two young brothers bullied by a gang of neighborhood kids, have a very specific image of how power is gained. 

If the bullies beat them up, they must find an even bigger bully to beat them up. Power is brute force. Power is outfighting your enemies. Even mythically, power for these boys means eating raw…

For those who have seen enough movies, especially by those considered auteurs, know not each of them hits it out the park immediately. Before Kubrick was the perfectionist, obsesive and brilliant director we all know and love, he had some far from good and decent movies, especially "Fear and Desire." However he grew and started to come up with his signature that will define and place him in the pedestal he deserves.

The same goes for Ozu.

For those who have read my reviews or have seen any of his films, know he has such a style, a finnese and way of being and treating individuals that's just amazing to see. From the way he shots shot-to-shot conversation, to the…

Sixty in September: 29/30

I love how much of this is shot outside, in fields or back lots. I love the wild running of childhood. Give the sign, fall, give the sign, rise. Eating sparrow eggs for strength.

I wonder -- it's all a kind of jockeying for position. The bravura tracking cross cut, from students at their desk to salarymen yawning down the line. God, if it doesn't feel that way. An image that will linger in my own office warped mind. Not working, yawning. Always yawning. Yearning, too.

"Will they lead the same sorry lives we have?"

"You're a weakling." To cut right to the heart of adult fears. And 1932 might as well be now for all…

☆"You think Dad's an important man?"
"I guess so…"☆

After two satisfying trios of films from renowned Japanese directors of very different eras and styles -- the wild Yakuza absurdity of Seijun Suzuki and the satirical adult comedy of Juzo Itami -- it's time to finally rectify one of the most glaring omissions in my film list. That is, the one of Yasujirō Ozu, of whom I've seen zero pictures. I've got a good group queued up, from TV recordings and purchases, so let's try to go through them more or less in chronological order. We'll start with one of his most acclaimed silent films, I Was Born, But…

Ben Mankiewicz introduced I Was Born, But… on TCM -- the…

"Maturity is often more absurd than youth, and very frequently is most unjust to youth" (Edison). The opening shot of the truck wheel spinning in the mud showcases Yasujiro Ozu’s knack for pregnant gags, a bit later the suburban salaryman is seen exercising stiffly amid clotheslines while a trolley zips by (a change in angle reveals a cigarette on his lips). The neighborhood is Japan’s Showa period with its wrapper still on, shoji sliding screens and white picket fences and marching exercises in the schoolyard; the new boys (Tomio Aoki and Hideo Sugawara) are deadpan li’l scrabblers who ditch class and come up with their own calligraphy grades, gulp down sparrow eggs to get the strength to face the bully,…

I was Born, But... is an intimate story of family and workplace dynamics, told through a series of vignettes about suburban life that juxtapose child schoolyard hierarchies with those of the capitalist salaryman world.

At first the children see their father as an authority. In one scene he is literally changing out of his Western suit, the uniform signifying subservience to his boss, back into a traditional Japanese robe, the symbol of the authoritarian father figure that would have existed in samurai households.

There is another great shot of the camera tracking right along the line of children in the playground, and then it cuts to a right tracking shot of salarymen at their desks. The children are being groomed…