Tokyo Story: Some Responses

Kelly wondered why Noriko served Tomi dinner while still pouring sake for Shukichi, and why she was contorting herself to look at Tomi while pouring the sake.  Basically, the traditional rule in Japan was that you don't eat rice while drinking sake.  In fact, this is taboo.  May have something to do that they are both made from rice.  Rice is also a "sacred" plant.  Anyway, the food that was delivered was donburi, which has meat and stuff over rice.  So as long as Shukichi was drinking, he wouldn't start his donburi.  Tomi, on the other hand, was not drinking, so Noriko was urging her to start eating, since Tomi would have restrained herself out of politeness.

Morgan asked "how we can know" that Noriko is ultimately a stranger.  Well, the Japanese audience (including Yoshida) knows this because of their knowledge of social ideology, and perhaps most importantly, through language.  Noriko always addresses her parents in law with very respectful terms.  The biological children are much less polite.  And, as Yoshida indicates, biological children have biology, so they don't need to get self-conscious about how they relate to their biological parents.  Noriko, on the other hand, is "deceitful" (zurui)--she is perhaps more polite than she would ordinarily be (among other forms of deceit).

This brings me to another concept: uchi (inside) and soto (outside).  In Japanese society, with its "group consciousness," there is a lot of awareness of people who are "uchi" (that is, part of one's group), and "soto" (that is, outside one's group).  Noriko is definitely "soto."

I should also note that we don't know about Noriko's own family.  They are irrelevant to this narrative.  Or, I should say, Ozu makes them irrelevant.  In the "real world," there would have been some indication of Noriko's family--either that they exist, or that they are dead, or whatever.

Caroline and Allison: With regard to the "san" in Ozu-san, I think I mentioned this in class, but not emphatically enough.  In a scholarly text, one would never refer to a director, or author, or historical figure as "Name-san."  It's respectful, yes, but it's too personal, and not "distant" enough.  In typical writing, Ozu would be written simple "Ozu," or perhaps "Ozu-shi," where "shi" is a less personal version of "san."  By referring to Ozu as "san," Yoshida is implying a strong personal connection to Ozu that borders on the personal.  His use of "san" is transgressive in this context (of course, Yoshida is a transgressive kind of guy), and it really stands out as non-standard usage.

Hale notes "a lack of sound reasoning" in Yoshida's text.  I understand Hale's frustration.  That's why I tried to prepare everyone for this by telling you that Yoshida will be making some outrageous seeming claims, etc., but he should be given some leeway.  Hale's mention of the "apocalyptic" thing is something I looked over quite a bit. I wish I had the Japanese text.  I have concluded that it's most likely an awkward translation of the first use of "apocalyptic," but it's also possible that it was simply Yoshida being Yoshida.  I have asked people to try not to be too judgmental about the films or, by extension, the readings of the course.  Remember: I really don't care whether or not you like or dislike anything in this course.  I simply ask that you approach it with an inquisitive sense, a thoughtful attitude, and a desire to understand.  I should note that Yoshida's approach is kind of thinking out loud, presenting and testing hypotheses, etc.  I hope we can cut him some slack, because he has many insights worthy of consideration.

Genki: a shout-out to him for his very thoughtful reflections on Shukichi's "habitual phrase" Iyaa.  As I told the class, I want to try to accommodate non-Japanese-speaking students as much as possible, and only bring up language when I think it makes a huge difference.  Frankly, I have found inadequacies in the approaches taken by such people as Desser (brilliant though he is) since they don't understand Japanese.  And thus I mentioned "iya" (a different word from the one Genki mentioned--this one is the one misleadingly translated as "disappointing") and "zurui" (which, I was pleased to see, Yoshida translated as "deceitful).  I sincerely hope that non-Japanese -speaking members of the class will not feel excluded by such discussions.  If anyone does feel excluded, I hope you will find a way to get word to me.

Andrew: one point I think I got from your comments was that Desser made you think differently about the ellipses, but you still felt that they were "natural."  Is this right?  I find it significant that the ellipses felt natural to you--as they do to me.  This is the most important point here, I think.  Nevertheless, it's interesting to read Desser's scholarly take because he is indeed right.

Rachel: I don't pretend to have deep expertise in Film Studies as a discipline, so I may be wrong, but I think it's interesting to consider Ozu in terms of the "master shot."  It seems to me that he has a tendency to use master shots when there are many people in a scene, such as that nighttime gathering early in the film (at Koichi's house), or the scenes in which Tomi is dying.  But I think we may not get as much of a sense of a master shot when two people are involved--for example, in the famous "air pillow" scene, where, as Desser points out, Ozu seems to be violating certain "rules" of Hollywood-style filming by breaking the 180-degree rule, etc.

Sungwoo: I agree with Yoshida about the maid scene, but I think that there is something more there--something about what happens with the newlyweds (especially in terms of expectations and  reality) that reflects back on the film in a substantial way.  As for the scene with Minoru, after reading Sungwoo's comments, I realize that I had never bothered to really try to "think through" this scene.  Is Minoru presenting a kind of childish selfishness that connects with the "selfishness" of the biological children?  I'm not sure.  In any case, it certainly introduces a sense of disorder--and especially, disorder that can be attributed to the visit by the grandparents.  Thanks for making me think about this.

As a final note, I regret that Yoshida and I were not very successful in attracting many of the members of the class to this idea  of objects (and places) having "gazes."  I think that if you can give Yoshida a bit of leeway, his discussion of Tokyo Story is one of the most impressive--and indeed, provocative--things that I have ever read about film (and even literature).  I have studied a bit of Buddhist thought, which probably helps understand Yoshida, but what he is trying to do is to create a total shift in the way we  look at the world.  This is a shift that is beginning to develop as a result of environmental sensitivity, for example, and is also accessible to those who are used to mystical thought and even certain forms of lyrical or symbolic poetry.  It is also the reason why, in class, I discussed my experiences with my schizophrenic friend.  In any event, I am grateful to the class for humoring me and reading the text with an open mind.  If it still seemed like nonsense, I can accept that.