dressing and undressing
by Douglas Messerli
Tado Ikeda (screenplay, based on a story by Yasujirō Ozu, writing as James Maki), Yasujirō Ozu (director) 出来ごころ Dekigokoro (Passing Fancy) / 1933, USA 2013
Passing Fancy,
Ozu’s 1933 silent film, like so many of his other films throughout his career,
is a thoroughly enjoyable film, filled with wonderful moments, whose plot is
hardly worth recounting. A poor, lazy, and slightly despicable “everyday” man,
Kihachi (Takeshi Sakamoto) lives alone with his young son, Tomio (the charming
Tokkan Kozo). Next door lives Kihachi’s best friend, Jiro (Den Obinata), with
whom he works at a brewery, and the restaurant where he and Jiro drink and eat
almost every morning and evening, run by another friend, Otome (Chouko Iida).
The film begins at a rōkyoku performance, a kind of variety show
including readings of famed Japanese texts. But most the camera’s attention is
taken up by broad comic events, as the hot and mostly undressed crowd comically
explore every aspect of behavior from petty thievery (of a found wallet), the
attacks of lice (it appears the entire crowd badly needs a delousing), and the
mockery of some of their neighbors. The whole event plays out a bit like a
rowdy gathering of adult boys being boringly entertained. Most of these
figures, particularly Kihachi, as we later learn, are uneducated and cannot
even read. This is their most fulfilling cultural event.
Soon after the theater performance, Kihachi, on his way home with Jiro,
his son hefted upon his back, encounters a destitute woman, Harue (Nobuko
Fushimi), to whom he immediately and ridiculously—given his age difference and
lack of attractive features—is attracted, and becomes determined to court.
Despite his young son’s apparent embarrassment of his father’s behavior, when
she asks if he know of a place where she might sleep for the night, he sets her
up with his friend Otome; Jiro, perceiving the poor girl as a former
prostitute, dismisses and tries to dissuade Kihachi from any involvement.
The kindly Otome, soon becomes
interested in the girl, hiring her as a server. And Kihachi, meanwhile, becomes
even more determined to become involved with the isolated woman, asking
When Otome determines that Harue should get married, she visits Kihachi
to discuss the issue, he hoping to be perceived as the perfect solution to the
problem; but when he suggests that he is love with Harue, Otome laughs,
dismissing him. Besides, she proclaims, Harue sees Kihachi only as an uncle; she
is in love with Jiro. Will Kihachi please help convince Jiro that he should
marry Harue, she implores.
So must Kihachi come to terms, perhaps
for one of the first times in his life, with his own longevity, which, given
his self-destructive habits, may not be as long as he imagines. Although he
agrees to convince Jiro to marry Harue, the facts that Otome has forced him to
face drives him to drunkenness. At the very same moment, several of Tomio’s
schoolmates gang up on him, mocking him for his father’s inability to even read
the newspaper. Kihachi falls into a near stupor from drinking in response to
Harue’s lack of sexual interest in him. The event is particularly painful
to the young child since he is one
of the best students at school, which seems to have given him no protection.
When his father returns home drunk,
Tomio angrily mocks and scolds him for his behavior, to which the drunken
father responds by beating him. Tomio, in turn, hits back, slapping his father
across the face again and again and throwing his own textbooks at him. A few
seconds later, however, the child breaks down into a near-torrent of tears,
hugging his father to him in order to ask for forgiveness. We see him, a short
while later, back at his table reading his school books once again. As a kind of
make-up gift, Kihachi gives the boy 50 sen to treat himself to a treasure.
At work the next day Kihachi is suddenly
called home, someone reporting that his son is seriously ill. Rushing home, he
discovers his son in a near comma, a doctor attending him. The boy, who has
used the coin to buy a series of sweets—all of which he has consumed—is
diagnosed with actute enteritis. Although the cause of the illness may seem
comic, the illness itself is quite serious and, for a period of time, as the
boy is attended by Otome, Harue, and Jiro, Kihachi is terrorized by the
possibility that his son may die. Just as serious, he perceives suddenly that
he has no way to pay the doctor; his method of living day by day has not
allowed for any emergency or even an ordinary life.
Perceiving the family’s dilemma, Harue
suddenly speaks out, assuring Kihachi that she will raise the needed money, for
which he sincerely thanks her but kindly rejects. Jiro, recognizing
Jiro borrows the money from the kindly
barber, determining to get a temporary job in isolate Hokkaido as a laborer to
pay him back. Harue, accordingly, is equally pained that at the very moment she
has found happiness that it will be whisked away from her. When Kihachi hears
to Jiro’s decision he tracks down Jiro, slugging him out so that he make take
his place on the ship travelling north. Although the barber insists that he
need not even paid back, Kihachi leaves his son in Harue’s and Otome’s hands, and
goes aboard the ship.
The ship does not even get out of port,
however, before, after showing the other would-be laborers the message the
school has sent his son, Kihachi suddenly realizes his mistake in abandoning
his beloved son, and jumps overboard, swimming back to a peninsula which will
eventually lead him back to Tokyo.
Despite apparent emptiness of some of
these comic tropes, however, Ozu’s film often becomes brilliant through minor
but important cinematic techniques, the use throughout of mirrors to reveal
what is often happening out of view off-screen, the often hilarious theatrical
poses into which Tomio falls immediately after his bad-boy bullying of his
worthless father, the linguistically absurd koan-like childish jokes of
Tomio—“Why is the sea salty? Because there are so many salted salmon,”—which,
with such like emphasis on language sometimes make this film seem as if it were
a talkie, and the beautifully shot everyday scenes of life on the characters’
winding through the backstreets.
Finally, Ozu, as he does in several films, uses a series of subtle
behavioral and cultural clues that seem almost perfect for a Roland
Barthes-like reading of elements of the story. In this case, it centers upon
the way in which Ozu’s male characters, Kihachi, Tomio, and, to a lesser degree
Jiro, employ various stages of dressing and undressing throughout the film. The
characters, as I have mentioned, seem to be dressed in their underwear for the
first scene of the rōkyoku performance, but, obviously, dress up to go to work and school, shedding
their clothes again when they return home. In Passing Fancy they drop these articles of pants and shirts upon the
floor, the woman stopping by often to hang them up on hooks. In particular, we
watch Kihachi, abandon his work clothes for more traditional Japanese attire in
order to woo Harue, a quite
If nothing else, Ozu’s early film is worth watching simply for its comic
sense of humanity compared with a time, soon after, when everything will
completely fall apart, and where officious costumes will be recognized as
necessities, and wherein the well-educated Tomio will perhaps die in the war.
Los Angeles, May 16, 2014
Reprinted from International Cinema Review (May 2014).
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