31
96
7
The Butterfly
This review may contain spoilers
"Everyone's dissatisfied"
Ozu explored the family life of a cog in a wheel salaryman. Sugiyama Shoji personified the endless, hopeless life of the literally white collared worker who made just enough to live on but not enough to get ahead, much less dream of something different.
Shoji and Masako have been married for a number of years but after the death of their baby son have drifted apart emotionally. Shoji's family is now primarily populated by the people he works with, ex-army buddies, and mahjong companions. Masako has a widow neighbor and a jaded mother she can turn to. Due to Shoji's nighttime habits of mahjong and drinking, the couple are behind in their rent. The disaffected worker is about to knock Ozu's ubiquitous train off the tracks when he begins an affair with a younger woman named Goldfish.
Aside from A Hen in the Wind's male lead, Shoji was one of the most unsympathetic leads in an Ozu film that I've seen so far. He frittered away the family money, barely spoke to his wife and treated her like a maid. He brought drunk friends home to sleep it off and walked out one evening when he surprisingly came home early and dinner wasn't ready yet. To top it all off he scarcely covered up his affair which seemed cruel. His wife did all the laundry and he didn't think she'd notice the lipstick faithlessly adorning his clothing? He didn't think she would smell another woman on him when he sauntered in after having sex with Goldfish? When she finally did confront him, he tried to gaslight her and lied like a five-year-old. With the exception of one woman who told her to stick to her guns, others, including her mother, convinced her to apologize for her part in the marital estrangement and go back to her husband. Thankfully, Shoji did finally apologize to her, however with all the emotional depth of apologizing to someone you'd accidentally bumped into. As the husband in Hen in the Wind did, he wrapped up the story with a "let's start all over again" happy ending. Ozu banged on about how disillusioned salarymen were and largely blaming Shoji's infidelity on his employment dissatisfaction. Where was the insight into the grief Masako was obviously still dealing with and her loneliness? Where was the compassion for a lonely woman with a husband who spent most of his time away from home? Why did she have to apologize for her husband sleeping with another woman?
Ozu's composition and framing were as exquisite as ever. There were the typical scenes in an Ozu film with singing and game playing, occasionally both at the same time. The 2 hours and 24 minutes film dragged badly in places. How many drinking and singing scenes were truly necessary? The waxing on about the meaninglessness of a salaryman's life became repetitious. Over and over again, Shoji was shown spending time with just about anyone but his wife which began to wear thin. It was doubly painful because Shoji never mentioned loving his wife whereas numerous characters commented on Masako's love for Shoji. At no point did Ozu show the reason Shoji decided to turn his marriage around other than for convenience's sake which made the decision emotionally hollow.
Ozu's insight into the long hours and drudgery of death by overwork was stinging. The commentary on women with unfaithful husbands was disheartening. The nicest comment about wives was Shoji's older friend played by Ozu regular, Ryu Chishu. "No one is more dependable than a wife." Sounds like something you would say about a brand of tires or dishwasher. I didn't find the unfaithful and cold Shoji a compelling or sympathetic character. He was an irresponsible husband who did nothing to earn his wife's forgiveness. Ozu made many meaningful films, for me, this wasn't one of them.
8/29/23
Shoji and Masako have been married for a number of years but after the death of their baby son have drifted apart emotionally. Shoji's family is now primarily populated by the people he works with, ex-army buddies, and mahjong companions. Masako has a widow neighbor and a jaded mother she can turn to. Due to Shoji's nighttime habits of mahjong and drinking, the couple are behind in their rent. The disaffected worker is about to knock Ozu's ubiquitous train off the tracks when he begins an affair with a younger woman named Goldfish.
Aside from A Hen in the Wind's male lead, Shoji was one of the most unsympathetic leads in an Ozu film that I've seen so far. He frittered away the family money, barely spoke to his wife and treated her like a maid. He brought drunk friends home to sleep it off and walked out one evening when he surprisingly came home early and dinner wasn't ready yet. To top it all off he scarcely covered up his affair which seemed cruel. His wife did all the laundry and he didn't think she'd notice the lipstick faithlessly adorning his clothing? He didn't think she would smell another woman on him when he sauntered in after having sex with Goldfish? When she finally did confront him, he tried to gaslight her and lied like a five-year-old. With the exception of one woman who told her to stick to her guns, others, including her mother, convinced her to apologize for her part in the marital estrangement and go back to her husband. Thankfully, Shoji did finally apologize to her, however with all the emotional depth of apologizing to someone you'd accidentally bumped into. As the husband in Hen in the Wind did, he wrapped up the story with a "let's start all over again" happy ending. Ozu banged on about how disillusioned salarymen were and largely blaming Shoji's infidelity on his employment dissatisfaction. Where was the insight into the grief Masako was obviously still dealing with and her loneliness? Where was the compassion for a lonely woman with a husband who spent most of his time away from home? Why did she have to apologize for her husband sleeping with another woman?
Ozu's composition and framing were as exquisite as ever. There were the typical scenes in an Ozu film with singing and game playing, occasionally both at the same time. The 2 hours and 24 minutes film dragged badly in places. How many drinking and singing scenes were truly necessary? The waxing on about the meaninglessness of a salaryman's life became repetitious. Over and over again, Shoji was shown spending time with just about anyone but his wife which began to wear thin. It was doubly painful because Shoji never mentioned loving his wife whereas numerous characters commented on Masako's love for Shoji. At no point did Ozu show the reason Shoji decided to turn his marriage around other than for convenience's sake which made the decision emotionally hollow.
Ozu's insight into the long hours and drudgery of death by overwork was stinging. The commentary on women with unfaithful husbands was disheartening. The nicest comment about wives was Shoji's older friend played by Ozu regular, Ryu Chishu. "No one is more dependable than a wife." Sounds like something you would say about a brand of tires or dishwasher. I didn't find the unfaithful and cold Shoji a compelling or sympathetic character. He was an irresponsible husband who did nothing to earn his wife's forgiveness. Ozu made many meaningful films, for me, this wasn't one of them.
8/29/23
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