1957 in Film: Tokyo Twilight

Tokyo Twilight is a devastating film, full of tragedy, sadness, and internal suffering that is rarely caught on screen so eloquently. It’s a film of a broken family, and the irreparable reprecussions that develop from it. The characters carry deep scars, yet they are hardly ever expressed to anyone. It is a film of repression, and deep regret, and we are left to linger on the question if wounds such as these can ever heal.

When the film starts, there is very little to suggest just how tragic it will become. We hear somewhat cheery music as the credits roll, and are then introduced to a polite eldery banker Shukichi (Chishu Ryu). We learn almost right away that Shukichi has two daughters; Takako (Setsuka Hara) and Akiko (Ineko Arima). Takako is the eldest of the two and is married with a baby daughter, while Akiko was a college student but is now learning English shorthand.

When Shukichi returns to his home, he sees that Takako has come to stay with him as she has left her abusive, and alcoholic husband. Shukichi tries to mend the situation by visiting the husband, but to no avail. Meanwhile, Akiko is  trying to track down her college boyfriend, to tell him that she is pregnant with his baby. When she is unsuccessful in finding him, she tries to borrow money from her Aunt (Nobuo Nakamura) to get an abortion. And when her father finds out about the borrowed money, she doesn’t tell him what it’s for.

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As we see these sisters struggle with their own inner turmoil, another situation arises. When trying to find her boyfriend at a mahjong parlour, Akiko meets a woman named Kikuko (Isuzu Yamada) who she has never met despite the woman knowing much about her. She tells Akiko that she was a neighbour of hers when she was very young. But it is later revealed that she is in fact her and Takako’s mother who ran off with another man when they were very young. When Takako finds out about Kikuko, she confronts her and asks her not to reveal herself to Akiko, who was too young to remember her, and thinks it would be best if the secret was never revealed.

The tragedy of Tokyo Twilight lies in the fact that the family unit has been disbanded. What is broken cannot be mended, and what is left is emptiness, bitterness, and disappointment. We see the characters live out their lives in disillusionment, uncertain of where they belong for if family is everything, where can they find it? For Akiko, she is missing the love of a mother, and she blames that for her unhappy circumstances. At one instance, she even believes that she’s not her father’s real daughter, since Kikuko had been unfaithful, which makes her think that she’ll be just as bad as her mother.

For Takako, she is trapped in a loveless marriage but with a baby to think of. And what it might mean for her to not grow up without a father. Then there is Shukichu the patriach, forced to raise his two daughters alone, at times looking as if he doesn’t understand them. He seems completely oblivious and confused as to what kind of world Akiko lives in, as it is far removed from his more traditional aspect. He also fails to understand how to get through to her and communicate, as he can only remain firm when she does something wrong.

But there is also the mother Kikuko, who is now seen as an outcast for what she has done. We see her desperate attempt to get to know Akiko, who was merely a child when she left. There is a quiet sadness to her struggle, and one of regret. We see how her love affair failed, and she is now married to a kind but rather pathetic owner of a mahjong parlour.

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In one very telling scene, we see the hurt and lonliness Kikuko feels of losing her family, when Akiko inadvertadly tells her of the third child in their family, the brother who died in a mountain climbing accident. It’s all the more devastating knowing this is the first time Kikuko has heard of this news, and that she must hide her sadness away from Akiko so that she wouldn’t reveal herself to her.

I’ve made it through this article so far without mentioning the film’s director – Yasujiro Ozu. A man who I believe was the greatest filmmaker of all time. Ozu specialized in stories about families of dissillusionment, and in my opinion never made a bad film. Many have said Ozu’s films are all the same in that they usually deal with the same themes. However, it’s far too simplistic to suggest he merely repeats himself. Ozu called himself a “Tofu maker”, and in the sense that he realizes he’s making the same thing, but there are a variety of ways one can make tofu.

Tokyo Twilight may very well be Ozu’s darkest film, and perhaps his most dramatic. There are hints of melodrama sprinkled in the story, such as the abortion subplot, yet the film is focused enough not to devolve into anything that isn’t authentic. What we get is a very humanistic approach, seeing each character’s point of view, making it all the more heartbreaking in how we see how futile their attempts for happiness are.

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Some might argue that the film is rather old fashioned, as it seems to call for the need of a traditional family. However, it is hinted that Ozu might have had more on his mind, particularly since we see very much through the eyes of Akiko, the youngest daughter. Ozu put youthful characters in his films quite often, and he was well aware of the changing times in his films even if he didn’t directly refer to them. Even though Akiko becomes a tragic figure due to a lack of a mother figure in her life, the film seems to suggest her downfall is partially due to the stubborn ways of traditional values, and how her father responds to her rebellious behaviour.

There is also the idea that Takako was forced to marry her abusive husband by her father, who now regrets his decision and wishes he had let her marry the man she was truly in love with. Then there is Kikuko, is isn’t villified for her actions, rather she is pitied, and gains our sympathy for how she has been treated. In this way, the film never gives us any easy answers. There are no clean cut villains, only humans who have made mistakes and must now live with them.

I have seen Tokyo Twilight a number of times now, and its power has never failed to move me. As a child of divorce, it made me think of my family a different way. After my parent’s divorce mistakes were made, people were blamed, and lives were altered because of it. For me, it took a long time to come to terms with my broken family. For when it happened, it was as if everything I knew up to that point was a lie, and I felt betrayed.

I felt an intimate kinship with this film when I first saw it, and there was sadness at the core of my being running through me as I watched it. It was as if I felt everything happening on screen was happening to me, and the characters were more than just images. They were people who I knew, and I could understand how each of them felt. It isn’t very often a film has the ability to do that, but when it does, it’s a feeling you tend to hold on to for a long time.