An Autumn Afternoon

Ozu’s final film is a movingly valedictory affair, its familiar story of Ryu’s elderly widower marrying off daughter Iwashita carrying even more poignancy than usual as a poised and wise reminder of passing time and the inevitable approach of mortality. The gentle humour’s there as ever, but in the sub-plot showing Ryu’s former teacher’s twilight years beset by drink-sodden regrets, the emotions are darker and tougher than previously. The central performance is, of course, a marvel of no-nonsense, unspoken expressiveness, set against exquisitely arranged colour compositions and the director’s loveable repertory company in fine fettle. Whether the film’s making was affected by the death of Ozu’s mother and the onset of his own final illness is hard to quantify, but it does feel like a leave-taking. A year after its release he died on his sixtieth birthday.