Poor Akiko and Ayako. This is a tale of survival. The pair must navigate a barrage of unwanted matchmaking. The tone often feels comedic, yet I couldn’t help but find it so dishearteningly sad. The wanton manipulation of two innocent fates feels coerced by a perverse combination of insidious patriarchy and juvenile matchmaking. The inevitable and ever-present generational conflict is captured by the ironic conversational dance between Ayako and Mamiya. He doesn’t understand why Ayako wouldn’t want to marry someone whom she “likes.” Why isn’t that enough? Ayako’s replies are laced with rhetorical obviousness. Why would it be enough? In what world is that simply enough? The micro-instantaneous evolution of social agency is captured in one conversation.

Poor Akiko and Ayako. This is a tale of survival. The pair must navigate a barrage of unwanted matchmaking. The tone often feels comedic, yet I couldn’t help but find it so dishearteningly sad. The wanton manipulation of two innocent fates feels coerced by a perverse combination of insidious patriarchy and juvenile matchmaking. The inevitable and ever-present generational conflict is captured by the ironic conversational dance between Ayako and Mamiya. He doesn’t understand why Ayako wouldn’t want to marry someone whom she “likes.” Why isn’t that enough? Ayako’s replies are laced with rhetorical obviousness. Why would it be enough? In what world is that simply enough? The micro-instantaneous evolution of social agency is captured in one conversation.

their constant smiling gave me the creeps that i was relieved when they finally fought also mga chismosa kung confrontational cla

their constant smiling gave me the creeps that i was relieved when they finally fought also mga chismosa kung confrontational cla

Late Autumn tells the story of a widow and her daughter and their reluctance to marry (and remarry). The way their friends and acquaintances get involved in the matchmaking, and the pressure placed on them to please their suitors and matchmakers form a striking portrait of the gender norms of the time.

The weight of tradition and etiquette hangs over the characters, and the daughter's rebellious attitude seems to represent a generational rejection of outdated expectations. There is a gender power struggle here as well as a generational one, with the two women apparently faced with the impossibility of a domestic life together as mother and daughter, and the almost certainty of having to become wives just because it is expected of them.

The charm of the movie is (in my opinion) much more in the subtext and in all that is not said than in what is, and I appreciate that it doesn't offer easy answers to the questions it brings up about heritage and society.

Late Autumn tells the story of a widow and her daughter and their reluctance to marry (and remarry). The way their friends and acquaintances get involved in the matchmaking, and the pressure placed on them to please their suitors and matchmakers form a striking portrait of the gender norms of the time.

The weight of tradition and etiquette hangs over the characters, and the daughter's rebellious attitude seems to represent a generational rejection of outdated expectations. There is a gender power struggle here as well as a generational one, with the two women apparently faced with the impossibility of a domestic life together as mother and daughter, and the almost certainty of having to become wives just because it is expected of them.

The charm of the movie is (in my opinion) much more in the subtext and in all that is not said than in what is, and I appreciate that it doesn't offer easy answers to the questions it brings up about heritage and society.

A gentle, slow-moving story about a mother and daughter navigating marriage plans and the quiet sadness of change. Setsuko Hara is wonderful, bringing warmth to every scene. Ozu’s style is calm and precise, with beautiful shots of everyday life.

It’s touching in places, but also so measured that it sometimes feels a bit too slow. Not as moving as Late Spring, but still a lovely, thoughtful film.

A gentle, slow-moving story about a mother and daughter navigating marriage plans and the quiet sadness of change. Setsuko Hara is wonderful, bringing warmth to every scene. Ozu’s style is calm and precise, with beautiful shots of everyday life.

It’s touching in places, but also so measured that it sometimes feels a bit too slow. Not as moving as Late Spring, but still a lovely, thoughtful film.

Really got to stop going into Ozu movies expecting them to be slow and boring because they never are.

Really got to stop going into Ozu movies expecting them to be slow and boring because they never are.