Film Review
The Lady and the Beard,
Yasujirô Ozu's twentieth film, is a succinct résumé
of much of the director's previous work, combining the boisterous
humour of his student comedies with an acute awareness of prevailing social
concerns, most notably the problem of graduate unemployment in
depression era Japan. In his previous comedies, Ozu took as his
main inspiration the films of his idol Harold Lloyd
. The Lady and the Beard, by
contrast, owes far more to Charlie Chaplin, and is to Ozu what
Modern Times (which had yet to
be made) is to Chaplin - a wry commentary on the march of time and its
profound consequences for society and individuals.
A rabid devotee of American cinema since his early teens, Ozu was one
of Japan's most forward-facing, western-influenced filmmakers. It
is significant that he made only one period film (his debut film,
Blade of Penitence, 1927), and, by
all accounts, he appeared to have next to no interest in his
country's traditions. Virtually all of the films Ozu scripted and
directed were set in the
here and now, dealing with issues that were familiar to a modern
Japanese audience. And yet, despite his enthusiasm for modernism,
you can sense a slight mistrust for modernity in some of Ozu's films,
particularly his later works, such as the unusually pessimistic
Tokyo Twilight (1957). In
a typically scurrilous vein,
The
Lady and the Beard sees Ozu mocking the enthusiasm with which
the modern Japanese spurn their traditions and kowtow to that beacon of
modernity, the industrialised West. To be old-fashioned is to be
an object of contempt and ridicule, as the
hero of the film finds when he leaves college, a haven where
eccentricity is tolerated, and enters the real world, where everyone
must conform to some accepted (western-influenced) notion of normality.
Ozu had a habit of recycling ideas from earlier films and the first
half of
The
Lady and the Beard closely mirrors that of his previous
social comedy
I Graduated, But..., with the
main character, a university graduate, struggling to find work.
This time, the reason for the hero's failure to secure a job is
laughably self-evident. He dresses in scruffy traditional
Japanese garb and has a bushy beard of terrifying proportions.
Once the beard has gone, our hero finds himself a far more attractive
proposition, not only to employers but also to eligible young
spinsters. The Kendu-obsessed hero Kiichi finds success by making
the meanest of concessions to modern tastes, but he then ends up in the
invidious position of choosing between two women, one of whom is an
emblem of modernity (a Joan Crawford-style gangster's moll), the other a picture of
traditional Japanese virtue (a sweet little thing who is a dab-hand
with a needle and thread).
That Kiichi finally opts for the latter over the former provides a
cogent moral that modernity isn't everything.
Although
The Lady and the Beard
was shot in just eight days it is a slick production, jam-packed with
technical innovation and some of Ozu's most imaginative direction. The humour is
sharper, more sophisticated than in the director's previous comedies,
and the satirical edge much keener, mocking social conventions with an
almost pathological glee. Ozu extracts considerable comedy
mileage out of the familiar 'arranged marriage' scenario, with the
comically barbate hero instantly rejected by all and sundry, only to become a
front runner when he has shaved off his whiskers. Ozu's editing
gags are also a source of amusement. After a scene in which we are
reminded that a beard was once considered a symbol of maturity and
wisdom, Ozu cuts from a portrait of Abraham Lincoln to a shot of a
Lincoln car, one of innumerable private puns that adorn his films.
With his impressive physique, good looks and penchant for playing
larger-than-life comedy figures, Tokihiko Okada was the ideal casting
choice for the lead part
of Kiichi, a man who, early in the film, resembles a cross-between
Chaplin's Tramp and Mifune Toshiro's sword-wielding samurai.
Okada was one of the most popular film actors of his generation and had
previously worked with Ozu on two films,
That Night's Wife (1930) and
Young Miss (1930). He
subsequently appeared in Ozu's
Tokyo
Chorus (1931) but died not long afterwards (in 1934) from
tuberculosis, aged 30. Okada's performance in
The Lady and the Beard is a
non-stop tour de force, one of the funniest and most humane
performances in any Ozu film, so no wonder the film was so
popular.
The Lady and the
Beard was not only a commercial success (a rare achievement for
Ozu in his early years), it also met with considerable critical
acclaim, with Ozu finally beginning to emerge as one of Japan's
most promising young filmmakers.
© James Travers 2013
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Next Yasujirô Ozu film:
Tokyo Chorus (1931)
Film Synopsis
As a college student, Kiichi Okajima impresses everyone with his
mastery of the Japanese martial art of Kendo. But, once he has
graduated, the world seems not to appreciate his devotion to Japan's
cultural traditions. When he goes for a job interview with a
modern company, he is turned down because of his ample beard.
When he is invited to a dinner party by his college friend Baron
Yukimoto, his outdated garb arouses derision from the female
guests. One day, he snatches Hiroko, a decent young
woman, from the clutches of a female con artist, Satoko. To
show her gratitude, Hiroko advises Kiichi to shave off his beard, as
this will improve his employment and marital prospects. Sure
enough, his facial hair sacrificed, Kiichi has no difficulty finding a
job, and within no time he has three attractive young women chasing
after him...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.