Sixty in September: 7/60.
These aged, neglected prints. There's a quiet, faded grandeur to them, unfolding in silence. They feel almost forgotten. And the bittersweet story adds a melancholy weight.
It opens on shots of docks, tremendous boats looming in the background. I love this. The film is perhaps about being dwarfed by surroundings, circumstance. Yasue is told by her mother: if you lose your job, you know it will be difficult for us. Lascivious bosses, tedium, almost poverty.
Then there is the neverland of perpetual gangster adolescence. The way the gangsters are always tapping their feet, dancing in sync is surreal. It reminds you how filmic they are. They've convinced themselves about how they're living. They have a new…