By this point, we’ve covered essentially everything that has to do with Yasujirō Ozu’s status as one of the greatest filmmakers of all time – someone whose work reflected a keen understanding of the human condition, and could resonate with audiences in a way that spoke to each one of us on a very personal level, even if we were entirely removed from the social milieu of his films. Ozu told incredible stories that burrowed their way into the hearts of every viewer, which is far from a revolutionary opinion. There is a sentiment that has grown quite popular amongst groups dedicated to disparaging the incredible work the director did throughout his prolific career, where allegations that he essentially made the same film over and over again for years have been jokingly thrown at him as a response to the supposed simplicity of his stories making many of his film indistinguishable. In all honesty, there are always similarities that persist throughout his work, particularly those grouped together under different eras – but for every superficial similarity, there is a fascinating difference, each one adding to the vivid tapestry of humanity that Ozu made sure to convey to us in the form of this particular film. Early Spring (Japanese: 早春) is a film that often gets lost in the shuffle – made in between his towering masterpiece Tokyo Story, and the director’s eventual move into the colour era with Equinox Flower, this film is often relegated to a footnote, despite being one of Ozu’s most compelling dramas, and one that essentially set off just under a decade of captivating domestic sagas that are as beautifully-composed as they are narratively-profound, a hallmark of Ozu’s career as a filmmaker.

Like the vast majority of his films, Early Spring has a clear thesis statement relating to a potent social issue, and sets out to explore it in detail. In this film, Ozu is looking at a declining marriage between a couple who have been together for a long time, and begin to feel the burden of boredom and curiosity about what worlds await them beyond the marriage. This isn’t the first time the director has looked at marital strife, nor is it the last – but in terms of being a statement on the value of looking inward and finding comfort in the people and situations that we are most accustomed to, it’s certainly one that can make a legitimate case to being the definitive word on the matter. Marriage is not a particularly easy experience, and the director ensures that we are made to understand this specific point, as it’s the foundation on which this enormously intricate film is based. For many, the idea of seeing a drama about a marriage in crisis take place over nearly two and a half hours may seem daunting – but as is often the case with Ozu’s films, we are so enraptured in what we’re seeing on screen, we easily find ourselves lost in this world, taken on a beautiful journey into the heart of the story, observing these events transpire as if we were peering voyeuristically into the lives of these people, perceiving their trials and tribulations, as filtered through the director’s oddly empathetic viewpoint. Early Spring works the best when it has something to say, and even though it might be slightly long (being the longest of Ozu’s films), it manages to keep us engaged and actively curious, never losing our attention, even when the issues on screen become somewhat derivative and predictable.

Ozu’s films tend to be the most humanistic portrayals of everyday life produced during this time – he wasn’t the only one who made his career from these domestic dramas, but he was certainly the one who defined it and left the most indelible impression. As a result, they were often filled with some of the most stunning portrayals of ordinary people ever committed to film, which was also greatly helped along by Ozu’s tendency to make use of a regular stable of actors, who appeared in multiple of the director’s works over the years, taking on roles of varying sizes and playing many different characters across their professional careers with the director. Early Spring has some of the best performances given by Ozu regulars, with the two leads of the film, Chikage Awashima and Ryō Ikebe, being absolutely incredible, developing their characters of Masako and Shoji Sugiyama respectively, beyond just a bickering couple trying to work on a marriage that they know is bound to fail if they keep on this particular route, and instead repurposing them as fully-formed characters with vivid backgrounds and meaningful insights into what people in their position go through when questioning their marriage. The supporting cast is just as good – Haruko Sugimura has a considerable role as Shoji’s mother, an older woman trying desperately to be there for her daughter, but struggling to understand exactly what she is going through, as it seems to be a relatively new phenomenon for the sacrosanct institution of marriage to be manipulated to such an extent. Keiko Kishi also plays the role of Chiyo Kaneko, referred to as “Goldfish” for her large eyes and free-spirited nature, making her the ultimate object of desire without resorting to cliche, which makes an enormous difference when dealing with a story such as this, where every character decision resonates throughout the entire film, leaving an impression on the story, which is always in service of the characters, and vice versa.

Ozu’s portrayal of romance is hauntingly beautiful – he was capable of incredible simplicity, but also of intricately weaving together an unforgettable image of what it means to be in love. When we first meet these characters, they are already feeling the burden of a marriage that has grown stale – they respect each other, rather than showing any real adoration to one another, and while this has been fertile ground for many films from around the world, it is most meaningful when it comes across as authentic. The narrative is one of the director’s most straightforward – rather than overlapping plots, it really only goes in one direction, tracking the two main characters as they come to terms with the fact that their relationship might be in its final stages before deteriorating entirely. Yet, it’s not in looking at these challenges that we find the most meaning, but rather in how, in between these moments of despair, how Ozu inserts glimmers of hope, showing that there is always value in being optimistic and not allowing the foolish actions of the present-day invalidate the beautiful past, or ruin the prospects of a happy future. It makes the striking ending all the more poetic, since these are two people who are genuinely in love, and it took some serious obstacles, the kind that often end marriages immediately, for them to realize how they were actually meant for one another. It’s a beautifully romantic film with overtures of immense melancholy, which are all woven together in this stunning demonstration of the extent to which some will go to prove their love, even if it means going through some harrowing challenges to realize what direction in life they should take, and who is worth our time, a fact that may seem obvious, but can sometimes be obscured from view when it comes to the inherent hubris and foolish vanity we are all guilty of demonstrating at times.

Going into an Ozu film, you always know more or less what to expect – solid, reliable character-driven drama that feels genuinely insightful into a number of issues, which it gradually unveils over the course of a few hours. The director’s magical touch is found in virtually every frame of Early Spring, which has such a genuine fondness for its subject matter, we don’t even feel the brunt of despair that would normally come from a film centred on an eroding marriage. Ozu’s vision is precise and meaningful, and even when there is an expected happy ending (which wasn’t always the case – with the exception of the utterly delightful Good Morning, this is the last time Ozu produced something that ended on a purely positive note, yet still hints at an intimidating journey standing ahead of these characters), we never feel as is it is shoehorned into the story, but rather an organic aspect of the narrative. Early Spring is not often spoken about with the kind of reverance as some of his other films produced during this era, which isn’t too entirely surprising, since he was constantly finding new ways to deliver on his promise of earnest, authentic representations of the human condition. Not a stranger to dealing with serious subject matter, Ozu manages to intricately plot a strong story of a couple working on their marriage, questioning their commitment and ultimately realizing what matters – and in the end, their lives may be slightly different, but at least they went through the process of deconstructing a longtime relationship and understanding what it is exactly that draws them together – and it’s this incredible attention to detail, and willingness to venture into some harrowing narrative territory, that keeps making Ozu’s films so wonderfully endearing and incredibly poignant.