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67.160.130.12
you'd not know it from the film, itself.
A middle-aged, widowed teacher (played by Chishu Ryu, the quietly magnificent, favorite Ozu lead) raises his son is an orderly fashion until a tragedy occurs for which he directly feels responsible. As is true with all of the Master's films, there really is no plot to speak of: it is the slow and careful accumulation of small acts and details that weave the spell so unique to Ozu. Indeed, Ozu's films feel very much like Taoist parables with images substituting for the words of Lao Tzu. The "action" in his films is all internalized with but subtle evidence visible to the calm and careful observer. Death, sacrifice, love, loyalty--- all of these deepest of human experiences, emotions, and actions rigorously are examined though w/out the endless verbalizations so common in, for instance, French "art" films. The longer I watch film, the more I realize he is the greatest director of them all. There is nothing in excess, nothing extraneous or gratuitous--- it is as apparently simple and natural as the greatest art always appears.
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Thanks for another great Netflix addition.
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