Tokyo Chorus (1931)
Tonight I somehow watched "Tokyo Chorus", a 1931 silent movie by Yasujirō Ozu. It tells the struggle of a middle class man to do what's right in tough situations: standing up to your boss, not lying to children, eating humble pie to feed your family, befriending and helping the people around you, cultivating community with your former comrades and colleagues.
The story is nothing grand, yet this movie shot almost a century ago in a far away country remarkably demonstrates a shared human experience with us, across space and time. Without sound, the actors convey emotions not through their spoken words, but through their facial and bodily expressions-a universal language. I really appreciate how they do not overplay, except in the beginning in a few comedic scenes in a style seemingly inspired by Charlie Chaplin. Pre-WWII Japan is so much like modern America that it's a great tragedy an atomic war had to be waged between the two.
At the same time, we get a glimpse into a past that has ceased to exist: a country that may already have skyscrapers, modern business attire, vinyl records and movies, yet remains largely rural, where most people live along unpaved roads, and rampaging bears are still an occasional concern.
Most movies are destined to soon be forgotten. Their stories reflect passing fads, their storytelling is insincere, their technical prowess is unoriginal and will soon be surpassed. This is only truer of recent Hollywood productions, that add little of value to this world. But some movies will still be worth watching in a century by whatever humans or machines still exist then. "Tokyo Chorus", though it is definitely nothing great, might earn its place among movies still watched in the future-by its universality, its sincerity, its simplicity.
6.5/10