Der einzige Sohn (1936) watch online HD

Of all the major directors in the world, Ozu was the last one to convert to sound; "The Only Son" was his first "all-talkie" film (in 1936), and it is remarkably inventive (technically) as well as deeply moving. Once again, his film deals with family dynamics: in this case, a widowed mother who has worked selflessly to provide her son with an education. But when she goes to visit him, she finds that he has not fulfilled his promise: he's stuck in a mediocre job, he has a wife and child and can't make any drastic changes because of his responsibilities. The ways that the mother and son try to reach an understanding, and their mutual resignation to the disappointments of life, create a glancing but powerful sense of that "quiet desperation" which was so often Ozu's theme.

It's quite striking that although this film was made 17 years before Tokyo Story, all the aspects of the film-making style we have come to associate with Ozu are already fully present. But compare this film with, say, his "Sono yo no tsuma", made just six years earlier in 1930: in that film --- a rather slavish attempt to copy the style of German Realism -- none of the visual and narrative features he shows here are present.

No one has mentioned (so I will...) -- that the German film which Ryosuke takes his mother to see (in which she falls asleep, and of which he self-referentially says "this is what they call a talkie") is Willi Forst's 'Leise flehen meine Lieder' (Vienna, 1933), and the lovely blonde actress seen running through the wheatfields is Louise Ullrich. This film (now largely forgotten) was a popular sensation in Europe at the time, depicting the love affair between Franz Schubert and the Countess Eszterhazy. Also... noticeable in a few scenes in Ryosuke's house is a large travel poster which says 'Germany'. All of which shows the extent to which European film-making was in the mind of the young Ozu. We think of Ozu as a purely "domestic" Japanese director (in every sense of that word), but in fact he was well-versed in the traditions of western film-making.

It is a shame that this film is not available for wider viewing. I had the opportunity of seeing it at an Ozu retrospective in Cleveland. This film measures up to the other great classic Ozu films. The impact of Ozu's films works in much the same way as Japanese painting. There is great power in its open spaces and silences. They lend greater power to the words and emotions that are expressed. The dignity of the characters as they struggle with life is moving. Ozu is a master

of world cinema because he deals with themes of universal import and he does so with impeccable style. Especially noteworthy in this film is his effective use of music and sound. All in all, a very worthwhile experience

This film starkly depicts both rural and urban poverty in depression-era Japan. It examines the impact that the national delusion that "education will allow everyone to get ahead" had on the lives of ordinary people. He shows that, in reality, people found that getting an education got them "nowhere". The film does not deal with abstractions, but real people, who face individualized dilemmas. The performances are exceptional, especially that of Choko Iida -- as a mother who gives up everything to let her only son pursue higher education -- only to find that her son is mired in near-poverty, instead of being a big success in Tokyo.

"The Only Son" is Ozu's first "talkie" - and utilizes sounds/dialogue in a stylistic manner to tell a simple story. The beautiful simplicity that pervades the piece is classical Ozu, and amplifies the poignant tale of a mother coming back to visit her son, after sacrificing her livelihood to ensure he achieves higher education. When she realizes that he is unsatisfied with his life as a night-school teacher, a general melancholic tone begins to unfold through the progression of the narrative.

There are some fine indoor shots of the house where the son lives, and also, some greatly composed scenes of the run-down industrial neighborhood where the son goes out to buy "noodles" from a nearby stand. What's also memorable about the film is its excellent rendition of outdoor nature shots, one scene stands out in my mind where the son is having a discussion with his mother. There is also a great shot of the night-school teacher looking out dismal and lonely from the school-building to a city sign, which is juxtaposed against a dark, night sky.

The ending is nicely done, and overall, the film is crafted in that spare, simple perfection that is the stylistic hallmark of Ozu's cinema.

"The Only Son" is Ozu's first "talkie" - and utilizes sounds in an efficient, restrained manner to help tell the story with calm grace. The beautiful simplicity that pervades the piece is classical Ozu, and amplifies the poignant tale of a mother coming back to visit her son, after sacrificing her livelihood to ensure he achieves higher education. When she realizes that he is unsatisfied with his life as a night-school teacher, a general melancholic tone begins to unfold through the progression of the narrative. The ending is nicely done, and overall, the film is crafted in that spare, simple perfection that is the stylistic hallmark of Ozu's cinema.

In 1923, in the province of Shinshu, the widow and simple worker of a silk factory Tsune Nonomiya (O-Tsune) decides to send her only son to Tokyo for having a better education. Thirteen years later, she visits her son Ryosuke Nonomiya (Shinichi Himori), and finds that he is a poor and frustrated night-school teacher with a wife, Sugiko (Yoshiko Tsubouchi), and a baby boy.

"Hitori Musuko" is a poignant, heartbreaking, sensitive and beautiful movie about expectations, frustrations, revelations and hope in life. Once again the major concern of Ozu is with the family and human relationship. In "Hitori Musuko", Ozu brilliantly uses the sound, recent in 1936, in the end of the simple but touching story, when the machines in the factory stop working symbolizing the death of Tsune. I saw this movie in a Brazilian cable television in a copy that certainly needs restoration, and I regret to inform that only "Ohayô" has been released on DVD in Brazil. Only in festivals, and occasionally in cable television, Brazilians have the chance to see the work of this great director. Seeing the number of votes of this masterpiece in IMDb (only 88 votes), I believe that the distribution problem of this film might be international. My vote is ten.

Title (Brazil): "Filho Único" ("Only Son")

In which genre would you place an Ozu film? Most would say 'melodrama', simply for ease, but to put this director's body of work into a category cram packed with the saccharine misfires of Hollywood all the way to the recent, shamelessly OTT 'Black Swan' (which, bizarrely, has found its way into the IMDb Top 250) is surely either a sign of laziness, a misunderstanding of his work or a pure insult.

If the films of Ozu really can be classed as 'melodramas', then we must first state that they are in a league of their own, and revolutionary to the category, providing endless inspiration for artists of all kinds - filmmakers, authors, actors and theatre directors have all named him as an influence. While other directors were busy shamelessly masturbating the emotions of their audience with forced dialogue, contrived plots and unbelievable amounts of glamorous cheese, Ozu's films, by comparison, would be seen by many people as anticlimactic and boring. Yet never in his career did he make a poor film, and mediocrities are few and far between (most of which are lost in his silent work). Indeed, even though 'The Only Son' was Ozu's first sound picture, he had been working in film for many years before this production. What we see in this early film is the work of a director already confident with the medium in which he worked, and the result is an understated, dignified delight.

It seems wrong to give a plot summary, as the story itself is of little consequence. Ozu was one of the few directors who managed to master the art of transcending the confines of plot and escape to the much wider universe in which emotional honesty and character all come into their own.

Some may be wondering what I am talking about, considering that Ozu always seemed to focus on family relationships. There are many who would argue that in actual fact, he never really experimented at all, and limited himself to this one subject.

But what a fascinating subject it can be. Ozu, with graceful skill and extreme talent, managed to explore human existence more completely than any director before or since, all with a largely stationary camera disclosing to the viewer immaculately ordered shots, and often placed at the eye level of a person seated on a tatami mat.

In this film, a mother working at a silk mill in rural Japan decides to send her son to secondary school in the hope that he will be able to escape his poor heritage and make something of himself in Tokyo. Sounds underwhelming and clichéd enough, doesn't it? But forget about that. As always with Ozu, it is his humanity, the nuances of the performances and the beautiful dignity and sympathetic nature of his direction that makes the film worth watching. His films tap into emotional realms that others can only make pathetic, superficial attempts at penetrating, and for that and that alone, his films should be treasured. This is no exception, and it is the perfect starting point to first time viewers of Ozu's work.

PS - As it is no exception, mind you have some Kleenex at the ready. Tears tend to run freely down the cheeks of the most hardened critics during these excursions into Ozu's Japan.

And for Ozu fans, this also stars Chishu Ryu, Ozu's favourite actor, in a minor role as the young boy's primary school teacher.

This is another interesting film from the Japanese director Yasujirô Ozu. While he was extremely masterful at telling stories about ordinary people--often in a conflict between the modern and traditional worlds. Many consider him to be an extraordinary genius, though I also felt that perhaps he was locked into an inflexible pattern that persisted through his film. The Ozu style meant a camera that did not budge and was usually set near floor level. This means that when the characters moved, the camera cut to a new frame--it did not follow them. And, the stories, though marvelous, were very, very similar. In fact, I would say that Ozu's films are the most consistent in theme and style of any director I can think of--and I've reviewed a ton of films. Because of this, the movies often tend to blend together in your mind. In light of all this, I liked "The Only Son" because it was a bit different. While its style and camera-work were pure Ozu, the story was a bit different. Most of his stories seemed to either be about the elderly and alienation or about marriage, this one is a bit different--though it's still a very personal story of ordinary folks.

The film begins in rural Japan. A young boy desperately wants to continue his education beyond primary school, but his mother is a poor widow. Yet, she is determined to work her butt off and send him to a good school in Tokyo--thereby guarateeing him a great future.

Years pass. The boy is now a man with a wife and baby. He is a school teacher and is quite embarrassed when his mother comes to the big city to see him after many years. Why is he embarrassed? He thinks that his job as a teacher is lowly and he should have achieved more with his life. Whether or not his mother agrees with this is never 100% certain--but what eventually does become certain is that she does not respect him because he sees himself as a failure and is too accepting of this. What happens next provides a nice look into what it really means to be a success.

Overall, an exceptionally good Ozu film. It's a bit different in tone than his later films of the 50s and early 60s and makes for nice viewing--even if you feel you've seen too many similar Ozu films. Well worth seeing--with the typical fine acting and direction you'd expect. The only serious negative, and you cannot blame the filmmakers for this, is that the print is pretty bad starting about one hour into the movie.

Incredibly gentle and touching Ozu picture about a single mother who works her butt off to send her only son off to school. Many years later, we follow her journey to visit that son in Tokyo. He hasn't kept in contact very well. His mother doesn't even know about his wife and infant son, nor that he is a grade school teacher, a rather low (and low-paid) position. Simply put, he's embarrassed at the little he has accomplished and he thinks his mother will be gravely disappointed that she went to so much trouble to educate him. The whole situation really hit home, and I was deeply moved by it. The film also features incredible cinematography and editing.

This is a nice piece of work from early Japanese cinema that's worth checking out for all fans of this period's films.

The plot is simple, nothing really special if you ask me, but Ozu sure knew how to handle this kind of simple stories he portrayed in all his films. It's a slow-paced film, which adds a more natural feeling to it in my opinion, full of powerful and emotional images supported by a really splendid and natural acting (as usual in Ozu's films).

Ozu really stands out from many other directors, he had the ability to portray life on screen and here you can definitely see it.

At first this kind of filmmaking didn't do much for me, but it has really grown on me with time. It surely is not for everyone; Ozu is just different cinema.

My score: 8.5/10

While having the privileged importance of being great director Yasujiro Ozu's first sound film, The Only Son also remains important for its emergence as the first truly "Ozu" work, in the sense that the very particular cinematic and thematic elements which make up what he is best known for coalesce together in a thoroughly emotional experience.

The story is simple enough, as Ozu usually tells. A widow attempts to save enough money for her son to go to college in Tokyo. She visits him years later, only to discover that he is not living the kind of sophisticated, well-off life she believed he would lead as a result of a college degree. What Ozu does with these characters is astonishing; he shows them in the most serene and simple of situations and settings yet uses his unique directing style to elicit subtle feelings and thoughts simmering just below the surface.

What this seems to suggest is Ozu's feelings regarding Japan in the 1930s, a tumultuous period in which the age of modernization seemed to be waning and Japanese society continued to be pressured into a militaristic hegemony. Clearly, Ozu resisted these transitions and his best offense was the films he made. The result is a quiet, gentle yet intense story about simple people wishing their lives, or the lives of their children, were better than they are. Through this, Ozu seems to reflect on the failure of Japanese innovation up to that point and the uncertainty of what the future might bring. Fortunately for the viewer, his specific style and insight remain as coherent and profound as ever.

I'm quite surprised this movie is not more applauded or even available, because this is surely one of Yasujiro Ozu's best movies, for all the reasons. It ends up being known as Ozu's first talkie, but is is so much more than that as a movie! I understand that Ozu's style is not as refined as it will be in later movies (which made me ponder about giving it a 10 or a 9), but nevertheless all its elements are still there, pretty evident, recognisable and very meaningful, so it sure deserves the top grade. More than that, I've found this movie way more moving and sorrowful than most of his best work (most of Ozu's work is about dealing with disappointment and the sad aspects of life in a society of failed expectations... And this one does it in such a clear, sad, beautiful way).

More magnificent than its theme or the director's eye, the performances are brilliant, specially the mother's, that it should be considered one of all time's best. Chōko Iida goes from a hardworking, selfless mother to a grieving, desperate one. This is the story about a woman who sacrifices her life for her son's studies, only to find out he's not happy or fulfilled with his career. One of the most poignant and heartbreaking takes I've seen on screen, and owns it pretty much to Iida's extraordinary performance. Immediately became a fan of this lady. Seriously, again, give this movie a chance to be among the greatest!

This is Ozu's first sound film, but could you really tell if you didn't know? The minutiae of the soundscape are so masterly affixed to what we see. Indeed, this could've been filmed in the fifties and I wouldn't have had any idea if it weren't for the rather dismal quality of the available film elements (this is available on the Blu-ray/DVD edition of Late Spring from the BFI).

There's a single scene where the camera moves, and it's so understated, lasting only a few seconds, that you wouldn't perhaps even notice it's there. It's natural, subdued. Whatever antonym to "obtrusive" you may come up with likely describes it. But that's what Ozu is all about: things happen below the surface reticently, on all levels — characters' complex emotions have to be decoded from their smiles; the visual intricacies aren't revealed in the movement of the camera, instead it's the positioning of the thing that makes us go there, into that space, and notice things.

I saw Vigo's whole oeuvre again with a friend a few days ago, the four films during one evening. Especially "L'Atalante" (1934) struck me again as the most amazing film: hardly anything happens, and what happens is almost trivialized in comparison to the mood of the thing, the visual atmosphere that has been set up, and how the camera moves in that environment. Ozu is so similar, albeit setting up his eye radically differently. No matter that the camera hardly moves, it's the same kind of strong visual thinking throughout. Ozu doesn't have similar paroxysms of emotion, but the poetry is there in how nothing seems to happen while everything is happening.

Viewed on DVD. Restoration = one (1) star. With films from Japan's "classical" era (roughly the first 65 years or so of the 20th Century) released by restoration labels, viewers often gets a red flag within the first few minutes. Sometimes even before the opening credits have ended. If little or no restoration has occurred, the restoration releasing label has obviously made the financial decision that the film is not worth spending much/any restoration resources on it. For this movie, the restoration warning banner can be seen flashing when the opening credits begin! The photo play is the director's first sound film and was released in 1936 (seems like switching to sound was avoided until the studio finally put its proverbial foot down). The story is a typical tragedy from the midst of Japan's Great Depression: very sad with an even sadder ending. Two somber scenes especially seem to stand out. One is the first serious family discussion held right next to Tokyo's huge garbage incineration facilities. Another shows an over-sacrificing grandmother weeping while watching her first sound film--an untitled romantic fantasy in German. The grandmother character could also be weeping for the film she has been cast in (and the actress would certainly have sufficient reason to do so!) Acting is undistinguished and fairly mediocre (about a third of it is "back acting"), direction is exceedingly slow paced and often boring, sound and cinematography are hard to judge given the lack of restoration, music is note-by-note ripped off from Stephen Foster, and clotheslines with underwear (a director's fetish) are in full bloom (clothes never seem to dry, since they remain on the same lines and in the same positions for the duration of the film!). Although I try hard to stick to only reviewing the film as presented on a particular disc, this time out I feel compelled to at least mention the supplemental video segment consisting of two talking-head film scholars. They come across as hilarious (although they do not mean to be) as they go about studiously constructing the embellishment of micro fragments, trivia, and fantasies into a pile of words that metaphorically rivals Fuji-San! Helps to lighten up the mega load of depression delivered by the movie! WILLIAM FLANIGAN, PhD.

This film opens in 1923 with factory worker Tsune Nonomiya being persuaded to send her only son to secondary school so he can become a 'great man'; something that wasn't free in those days. The years pass and in 1935 she sets off to see her son in Tokyo; things haven't turned out how she expected; far from being a great man he is a night school teacher earning just enough to support his wife and child. He borrows money so he can afford to show his mother the sights of Tokyo but she soon learns the truth. This obviously hurts her as she had to sell everything of value she owned including her house to pay for his education and she feels he should be more ambitious. When a neighbour's son is injured he helps out and she tells him she is proud of him; however when she returns home it is clear that she is still upset despite what she says to her friends.

It must be said that not much happens here; even the accident where the child is hurt happens off screen; this isn't a bad thing though. It is very much a 'slice of life' story where we see the mother's trip to Tokyo as she learns what has become of her son. It is clear that he wants to make more of his life but the situation there isn't great… his old teacher is now scraping a living as a pork cutlet seller. One of the most obvious things about the film was clearly not intended by the creators; it shows a Japan before the war where people live in traditional homes and women wear traditional clothing; much of which would be lost a few years later. The film does show its age somewhat but is still well worth watching as it is more than a historical curiosity. Until now the only Japanese entertainment I'd seen was anime and modern films but on the strength of this I'd be interested in seeing more older films.