User reviews

This is classic Ozu, a small slice of life, a crucial turning point in the history of a family fighting the inevitable progress of time and change. In this case it is a family consisting of a widower, clearly someone with a racy past, and his four children - a somewhat dim son, two dutiful older daughters, and a sharp tongued younger daughter, outraged that her father is determined to age disgracefully. He (played by the impish Ganjiro Nakamura) is sneaking off from his duties at his struggling sake brewery to meet an old flame. His eldest daughter, in true later Ozu style is reluctant to accept the hand of an apparently decent suitor. His second daughter is torn between the 'good' match and her true love, an impoverished academic.

Ozu's penultimate film, and perhaps this is reading too much into it, but its hard not to see his vision of his own impending death in it, despite the great humour in it.

This is a meditation on a dying world - despite the vibrant photography, the film resonates with images of passing - constant visions of graveyards, an old dying Japan, the families roots in a dying form of business as they are overtaken by big, highly capitalised larger companies. The ending is sad and inevitable, but not tragic - life does go on, and a new generation wills step in, even if the old traditions are not maintained.

One striking thing about this film is the incredible photography. Have humble domestic interiors every looked so stunningly beautiful? The lighting is luminous, every scene is as perfectly composed as a Vermeer painting.

... from writer-director Yasujiro Ozu. An elderly sake company owner (Ganjiro Nakamura) worries his extended family when his health falters and his financial choices come into question.

Ozu returns to familiar territory, including marrying off unwed relatives, familial obligations balanced against personal fulfillment, and the simple pleasures of domestic life. It all looks nice, each shot meticulously composed, and with added attention to ambient sound effects, like the sound of crickets chirping in the afternoon. Ozu only directed one film after this, 1962's An Autumn Afternoon, before dying in 1963 at age 60. His frequent star, and a major Japanese film fixture of the post-war years, Setsuko Hara, would also only appear in one more film, 1962's Chushingura. She lived in retirement another 53 years, passing away in 2015 at the age of 95.

The End Of Summer is another Ozu film about making a love connection, but this time there are multiple characters involved. One of the Ozu twists is the great Ganjiro Nakamura, who plays the father. He is trying to marry off his three daughters while he is visiting an old flame. One of the daughters is played by Yoko Tsukasa, who movingly played Setsuko Hara's daughter in the equally absorbing Late Autumn. Here, Mr. Nakamura provides the film's comedy, an old man looking for some action from a former mistress. However, this film is not really a comedy. Its a story about life events, the changes in ones personal destiny. Its hot in the movie, since a few characters fan themselves, hence the title. Not quite as good as Tokyo Story, Late Spring or Late Autumn, but that is such a tall order, I don't feel anything but admiration for this film. One great thing about this film is that many actors in prior Ozu films are here, making it almost an ensemble piece. I would have liked more of Setsuko Hara's character, but just seeing her in a film is worth anything. This film also works almost like a play, little stories molded together into one film. Worth your time and, as it was Ozu's penultimate film, its practically required viewing.

The penultimate film in his astonishing oeuvre, Yasujiro Ozu's story about an aging widower and his relationship with his three very different daughters has a strong sense of death throughout, contradicted with some of the most gorgeous cinematography available in cinema. Ozu's typical minimalist and economical visual style are quite conducive to realizing this theme, showing how even the most beautiful and poetic elements of life eventually run their course, as does everything in this life.

The main crux of the story rests on the patriarch of the family, Manbei, who continues to see a woman he knew while he was married, a notion which naturally upsets at least one of his daughters. The other two seem more pensive about the situation, leading them to contemplate their own lives as the eldest is widowed herself and debating whether or not to remarry while the youngest is wondering who she should marry. It is worth noting how Ozu portrays the elder generation as being more open to passion and vigorous living than the younger. The conclusion seems to be that despite the inevitability of death, how one lives one's life determines how they will be remembered rather than who they were perceived to be. Though death remains ever-important, it cannot and should not prevent one from attempting to live to the fullest possible existence.

It is a bunch of baloney to say that END OF SUMMER is far behind Ozu's other efforts. I have seen most if not all of Ozu's most acclaimed works, and END OF SUMMER is the best one I've ever seen. It even surpasses TOKYO STORY, which many scholars claim is Ozu's best masterpiece, one of the greatest movies of all time. For my money, END OF SUMMER is one of the top five foreign movies of all time. The beautiful photography is sublime; the movie contains some of the funniest things in any Ozu movie; and the ending is one of the most heartbreaking, most superbly visualized endings ever put on celluloid! I just can't say enough good things about this movie. There may be another Ozu movie I haven't seen that surpasses this one, but I sincerely doubt there's more than one, if there's even one.

This beautiful, haunting film takes place at the end of a hot Japanese summer that, as one of the characters puts it, "refuses to end." The mournful sound of cicadas accompanies the series of tableaux about the scion of the Namakura family, a whimsical widower who continues to see the mistress who caused his late wife and currently cause his three daughters a lot of sorrow. The film is about the impracticality and unpredictability of love in opposition to a rigid social order. Two of Namakura's daughters share their father's ambivalence about marriage. The older daughter, herself a widow, hesitates to re-marry. Although she embraces traditional values, she treasures her life "as it is," and values the freedom she now has as a single woman. Another daughter prefers to marry for love, rather than go with the dull, practical man her family has chosen for her. Only one daughter has a traditional marriage, but she's the most angry and outspoken to her father about his mistress. The film is also about the contrasts between the old and, "New Japan," the English words written on a flashing neon sign glimpsed on an anonymous city street. Despite his eccentricities, Namakura was a good businessman who kept the family sake business afloat; he could straddle both the old and new worlds. This is a physically gorgeous film, filled with humble domestic scenes that radiate the light of Vermeer and Dutch genre paintings. Ozu shows tremendous respect for women and the humble work they do--washing, sewing, cooking. It's work that is usually unseen and under-appreciated, so it's a pleasure to see it honored here.

This film is a little bit disappointing. Ozu did not portrait human emotions as intensive as in "Tokyo Monogatari". Neither has the film the wit and humour of "Ohayo". He did not succeed to characterize the person as good as in other films. The setting of the action in Kyoto instead of Tokyo could have provided the possibility to represent the contrast the conflict between old Japan and "New Japan" in a more distinct way. But unfortunately Ozu produces some cliches. But after all what is a "bad" movie by Ozu in comparison to all the other stuff.

The End of Summer is in many ways a typical Yasujiro Ozu movie. This includes both his trademark visual style, the fine balance between comedy and tragedy and the exploration of his favourite themes such as family, marriage, generational conflict, aging, the contrast between modern and traditional, etc.

However, there was someting missing in this one. It's not perfectly clear what it is, but it probably has to do with the characters. There's too many of them, so they don't get the necessary screen time to form a bond with the audience. As a result, they don't come off as interesting or engaging and this makes it harder for the viewer to shake off the feeling that he has already watched another similar but better variation of this movie, leading to a rather dull outcome.

I've come to think that Ozu is the most original of all directors post silent era. The End of Summer is just another example of how Ozu manages to make a compelling film out of the most mundane of plots. This also one of the funnier Ozu movies. The early scene of Akiko's meeting with a potential suitor is handled with great light comedic touches (the nose signal). Ozu's signatures are all here: the static camera shots,shooting actors from behind, sudden jumps in timeline, and of course great acting. I can't think of a director who is more instantly recognizable not just for technique but also plot and dialogue. There is only one Ozu and this is one of his best, right up there with :

Late Spring, Tokyo Story, Early Spring, and Tokyo Twilight

After his second experience with colour, a light, happy "Ohayo", secretly epic and impressed, Ozu shot one of the milestones of his career: "Kohayagawa-ke no aki" is in my recollection, with "Banshun" and "Munakata shimai", his best work. Most of the themes exposed in previous films (father's intervention in his daughters' lifes, love (in the hands of others), solitude) are here integrated in a comedy-structured film that becomes a drama. It's perhaps his unique melodrama and it is shown with the desperate of the last breath for some characters, as usual in Ozu, doubtful and seeking a place for their quiet happiness.

There is no Ozu film nearest Sirk's or Minneli's universe like this one.

Western viewers want to find a stoical impulse in Ozu's world view, but I think a certain orientalism is at play in this. Surely this "genius from the east" must be telling us something... transcendental and wise! In fact, I think the two most constant themes in Ozu's films are the momentary joys of life, and the suffering that comes with the loss of loved ones, either to death, the demands of modernity, or some conspiracy between the two. Those two topics seem stripped particularly bare in this late work, a short one by the standards of the director. Ozu's longer films, particularly Tokyo Story, might literally be chamber dramas, but in their breadth of subject and number of characters they have an epic quality- a kaleidoscopic depiction of post-war Japanese society. This film, by comparison, truly is a chamber drama with a relatively tight focus on one central figure and those around him. The characters aren't meant to comment about anything but themselves, and their joys and sorrows are laid all the more bare.

Kohayagawa ke no aki / The End Of Summer (1961) : Brief Review -

Same old Ozu trick with the only innovation that Wedding and Funeral are brought together for the first time. The End Of Summer has more characteristics than any other Ozu film and is also more angular. The family of an older man who runs a small sake brewery become concerned with his finances and his health after they discover him visiting an old mistress from his youth. It was obvious to see not a single character getting proper attention cause the quantity was high and the screen space was less. May be if you look from the other side, it seems more fun to see so many characters are brought together with simple and small small problems of their lives because the ultimate goal of it was to connect it to our lives. Like all other Ozu Films this one has kindness and amusing narrative with the climax being quite linked to horrible fact like Death. We don't see this often that two completely opposite sides Wedding and Funeral are mixed together in one narrative and so quickly. Ozu had this master trick gone fine irrespective of how ridiculous it may look at the first time, it gradually becomes intelligent later. The last scene where he has used the reference of Smoke coming out up there from Crematorium was so damn good. Talking about the acting, all the artists are in fine form throughout the film with exceptional varieties. Background score, screenplay, cinematography, dialogues are nice. I would have loved to see little more aggression in the script though. Ozu could have melted emotions better like he did with earlier Classics and then The End Of Summer would have became a non-problematic film. Nevertheless, Yasujiro Ozu has made it on his own par level with his masterful skills and those who love and understand his films can't deny this fact, no matter how hard you try.

RATING - 7/10*

By - #samthebestest

Yasujiro Ozu's 1961 opus on family & marriage as the hot days of summer will be soon behind them. A widower lives w/his 2 daughters & widowed daughter-in-law, played by Ozu regular Setsuko Hara (in one of 6 performances she essayed w/the director) in his home & runs a sake mill & has to deal w/the ins & outs of their love lives w/Hara the focus of some intentional matchmaking. Meanwhile when things start to get heated at home, he decides to leave & visit the home of his former mistress (& her spoiled daughter who wants nothing but a fur coat) where things aren't as hectic & the rest of his clan know none the wiser. Things become the usual, as usual as Ozu films go, as the quiet goes unsaid & what is said never rises above the sound of door being shut. Not my favorite of his films but his quiet rhythm of all things honor bound & prim & proper moving along like a well oiled machine is something one can latch onto. Look for Daisuke Kato (one of the original Seven Samurai) as a friend of the family.

"Kohayagawa-ke no aki" reveals a spectacular display of color and form that only a true master of art can achieve. Yasujiro Ozu has outdone even himself in this regard. One can easily get lost in one scene after another and forget that a film is playing. It is a though one is in an art gallery of cultural art which happens of be that of Japan. Monet attempted to imitate the impressionistic art of Japan during his lifetime in the 19th century, as can be seen in his own collection. The trend seems reversed in the 20th century, with Ozu using the techniques of American and European hard-edge expressionist. The results are stunning, infinity better than his earlier works. The same scenes in black and white in 1956 are presented in 1963 with vivid complementary and contrasting color. Barrels against a wall are no longer just gray shades but brown tubs with white rims and adjacent white umbrellas and buildings. There are dozens of other equally impressive combinations. The most spectacular scenes are those without actors or minimal acting. But after all, this is a movie so one has acting and dialogue. Moving hand fans dominate many scenes to an almost hypnotic end. The striking neon sign of the NEW JAPAN presages the future. The Left Elbow Index considers film from seven perspectives--acting, production sets, artistry, character development, film continuity, plot and dialogue--with a rating of 10 for very good, 5 for average, and 1 for needs help. The sets, the artistry, and the plot are rated very good. The plots are intriguing: to marry or not, East vs West, and cultural change. The acting is average due to the fixed photo technique and the talking head approach. Dialogue is appropriate. However, character development and film continuity seem submerged in the attention to color and form. The LEI average rating is 6.0, with a full point more given for Ozu's quantum leap into a new world of color, resulting in a 7.0, or above average, equal to an 8 on the IMDb scale. If one is serious about film history, this movie is essential to understanding trends. I strongly recommend this film. Just sit back and enjoy one tableau after another. You may find your jaw dropping in wonder and awe.

Yasujiro Ozu made only three films for studios other than Shochiku, and The End of the Summer was the last of those, this one made with Toho, home studio to Kurosawa and Honda. It was something of a big deal within Toho because studio systems worked by keeping actors within the studio walls as much as possible. Setsuko Hara, though, was a Toho contract player, despite Ozu's affection for using her at Shochiku, meaning that for Late Autumn, Shochiku had to borrow her from Toho with the exchange being that Ozu would make a film for Toho afterwards. So, the Toho contract players got to work with the great Japanese master one time...and Ozu found space for so many of them. There's even a moment in the film where a minor character tries to summarize the family dynamics and can't because there's so much going on. That's not to say I don't think this movie works. It's a nice late-Ozu film that goes through the typical motions and works on its own. However, I have now seen it twice and just don't think it hits emotionally like most of his other films, especially after WWII.

The Manbei family is headed by patriarch Kohayagawa (Nakamura Ganjiro II), widowed and owner of a small brewery in Osaka. His son died leaving him with a widowed daughter-in-law, Akiko (Hara), and he has two daughters, the elder Fumiko (Michiyo Aratama), married to Hisao (Keiju Kobayashi), and the younger Noriko (Yoko Tsukasa), unmarried. Much like many other late Ozu films, there isn't a strong story here, but the two main threads are an effort to find a husband for Noriko and Kohayagawa reconnecting with his mistress, Sasaki (Chieko Naniwa). There's also a small effort to convince Akiko to remarry, but it happens largely outside of the family.

What Ozu had gotten really good at over the years was taking little family dramas, intertwining them, and getting them to feed off of each other in subtle, thematic ways, leading to a cathartic conclusion, usually drenched in melancholy. I think the closest parallel to this would be Tokyo Story, considering both films' final acts. However, I feel like the two major throughlines (and the third minor one) are separate here and don't intertwine. Noriko's story gets forgotten for a long stretch (not the most uncommon thing in an Ozu film, to be fair) in favor of watching the growing reacquaintance of the two older lovers. However, I don't see how the two storylines really mesh. Noriko's failed attempts at meeting suitors feels disconnected from Kohayagawa and Sasaki deciding that they should reconnect. If I squint, I suppose I could say that it's about embracing the now, the present, the real, very Ozu-like ideas, but Noriko's resistance to arranged suitors feels more like a clash than an integration.

Now, that's not to say that these things do not work. I just feel like this is made from disparate pieces, all of which entertain in their own way, but don't come together neatly as a whole.

Kohayagawa, in particular, is the comedic highlight of the film, continuing Ozu's embrace of the influence of Jacques Tati, especially the combination of the image of him shuffling down a street in his kimono with the accordion music playing over the sight. His devil-may-care attitude to his family's tut-tutting of his time spent with Sasaki, something Fumiko is more than willing to note made her mother cry endlessly while she was alive, is infectious. Noriko has that young, strong-willed feminine aspect that Ozu obviously enjoyed seeing in his younger female characters, and she holds her own in any conversation as one would expect. And, of course, there's Setsuko Hara as Akiko, all smiles, no matter the situation, politely moving through life whether it's unwittingly meeting a potential suitor or promising to find paintings of oxen in the gallery in which she works. She's a charming presence that's always nice to observe.

The comparison to Tokyo Story I've made is obviously intentional, and I point to my complaints about the film's disconnected nature when I note that I felt much less here than I did in Ozu's earlier, much better known film. When someone gets pulled from this world, it seems to have less of an impact. Perhaps it's that the film leans more towards comedy for so long. Perhaps it's the incompatibility of the stories as told. Perhaps it's all in my head, but I have a muted, respectful reaction rather than a surprising emotional one.

It's a nice film, but ultimately, once Chishu Ryu shows up in a cameo as a farmer looking up at a smokestack, waiting for the funeral to end with the cremation, the film's expansive cast feels more like an excuse to get as many Toho stars and Ozu regulars into one movie as possible (though, the fact that Takashi Shimura didn't get in makes me sad).

So, it's good. Ozu was simply far too skilled at this point to make anything less than that. However, this feels like a film bred from something other than his desire to refine his technique, an attempt to take advantage of a unique professional situation rather than a story he needed to tell once more, though it does share a lot of the same motifs.

Perfection perfection perfection! This is the penultimate film by the one filmmaker that somehow always continues to amaze me and reassert the power cinema has. It's like reading a haiku by Bashô, or a poem by Merwin. Something made in a different time and place, yet still so strongly present in the here and now.

Regardless of the pervasive and thoroughly Ozuesque marriage dealings, this film is really about death. Its imminence, immutability. Its invisibility. The comedy, of which there's plenty, is balanced and ultimately cancelled out by what unfolds, and the final funeral procession is worthy of Welles' "Othello" (1952) in its bleak finality, and that smoke from the crematorium is among the darkest and most beautiful metaphors in all of Ozu — our life vanishes with our body either into the ground, or as is appropriate in the Japanese culture, into thin air. It vanishes. For a moment a kind of an emblem of it lingers in the air, and then even that token is gone.

And as only Ozu can, there's always the comic undersong, no matter how dark the waters we're treading. (This works both ways, mind!) The past is on its way out, the present is colliding with the future. It's the old paterfamilias who's growing into a child again, rekindling an old flame, failing to act his age at the gate of death, and it's the daughter who tells him off (the brother all tight-lipped and spooked about mentioning it, failing to step up. As is often the case, the females are perfectly capable of coping not their own, thank you very much.

I think Ozu's impact is the strongest when I'm away from him for a while. Then I get used to other ways of seeing things, yet when I go back to him the effect is stupendous: how he frames a shot of a doorway, a train station, of what seems to be the most "insignificant" transitory shot between scenes is beyond words. But it's always in that which many of us find "insignificant" where he finds a whole new universe waiting to be explored, and cherished. The beauty of his cinema is why I love film. It's the great friendship that lasts.

Seeing as the BFI are either incapable or unwilling to complete their Ozu project and might not actually have the rights to this film anyway, and now that Criterion have pushed from the mainline into the Eclipse, I wonder when we might see a decent Blu-ray of this wonderful film.