*****

How sad. The only one who gets what she wants is the antagonist, Sumiko.

Sumiko is an actress and member of a traveling theater troupe, whose leader is Komajuro. At the beginning of the movie, the troupe arrives at a small town, gets settled in, and begins getting ready to put on their show and hopefully earn some money. As the story unfolds, we learn that Komajuro has a son, Kiyoshi, by another lady, Oyoshi, who just so happens to live in this small town.

My sympathies quickly attached to Oyoshi, who raised Kiyoshi with only financial and no other kind of support from Komajuro. As we see Oyoshi and Komajuro together, it is clear that they are still very fond of each other. But it is also clear that they made the choice to have Komajuro continue his work with the troupe, so that they could send their son to school. The ultimate tragedy is that they lied to Kiyoshi and told him that his father had been killed. The son grows up thinking that his father is his uncle. (Sounds kinda like a family in the Ozarks, or Montana, but you know what I mean.)

Sumiko starts getting suspicious about Komajuro’s absences from the troupe and quickly discovers the situation regarding Oyoshi and Kiyoshi. In her jealousy, Sumiko convinces her fellow troupe member, actress Kayo, to seduce Kiyoshi, which Kayo has no trouble doing. However, Kayo becomes smitten with Kiyoshi for real, and when papa-san finds out, he’s none too happy. Komajuro totally disses Kayo as nothing more than a traveling actress (which is apparently right up there with a woman of ill repute), and dictates to Kiyoshi that Kayo is not good enough for him and that he would be wasting his life and all the hard-earned schooling for which his parents have sacrificed. Kiyoshi is quite angry with this discussion and tries to defend his love for Kayo. At some point during the confrontation (I think), Kiyoshi learns the truth about his father’s identity, and he is understandably confused, upset and even more mad. Then Komajuro discovers that Sumiko put Kayo up to the seduction. Another unpleasant confrontation ensues between Komajuro and Sumiko.

As this interpersonal drama is unfolding, the troupe is folding up. The rains have come, the performance venue is not waterproof, and audiences will not watch the show while being dripped upon. Komajuro decides to sell off the props, pay the actors, and disband the group. All of this is done, culminating in a sentimental last meal together, complete with drinking and singing. Everyone sheds a few tears, and the troupe splits up. Komajuro heads off to Oyoshi’s home and barely gets settled in when Kiyoshi comes home. (Maybe this is when he learns that his uncle is his father.) It soon becomes clear that father and son will not be able to live together, so Komajuro says his good-byes to Oyoshi and Kiyoshi and heads off to the train station.

Well, lo and behold, guess who’s also conveniently waiting at the station? Yes, the bitch’s timing is perfect. As all wily women know that the true path to a man’s, um, heart is with food, she quickly shares her bento box with him. Komajuro asks Sumiko if she wants to join him on the road, and the story ends with the two of them heading off together to start a new troupe.

I just felt so bad for Oyoshi, who was such a seemingly kind person, and who could not have life with both father and son together. How sad.

Musings on scratchings: One pesky yet vaguely quaint activity that I kept noticing was the actors scratching themselves. Oyoshi occasionally, without thinking, scratched her head or her arm. The men were often scratching any number of body parts, including a butt scratching in one scene, not to mention the groin scratching. (Boys have cooties.) I don’t think this was intentional, and I refer to it as quaint in the sense that the film in its entirety is a glimpse into Japanese life in the past. I have always been fascinated with the traditional Japanese style of living (multipurpose rooms, tatami, shoji, tokonoma, kura, zen aesthetics–sorry, Matt, I’m sure you’re rolling your eyes right now), but I’ve never looked beyond to the economics of my romanticized notions and the realities of life for most Japanese in the past. Watching these characters, living together crammed into one room, having seemingly very little to eat, washing clothes in the nearby stream, and occasionally scratching an itch from who knows what kind of bug or cootie or you-name-it, puts a whole different spin on my idea of the traditional Japanese lifestyle. Sometimes the educational power of going to the movies sneaks up like an unscripted itch.

Hold on a moment, I’m just trying to imagine what it would be like for me to go up to pimply faced 16 year old at my local “Blockbuster” asking for this film.

“Uh, yeah, do you have “The Story of Floating weeds?” I ask

“Weeds? You want that HBO show?”

“No, no, it’s a Japanese film. Silent. Made in 1934.”

“Silent?”

“You know, with NO WORDS.”

“I’ve got Pineapple Express. That’s about weed.”

“No, no, Story of Floating Weeds. Not a Judd Apatow comedy.”

“It’s a comedy?”

“ARGH!!”

Okay, I digress. The point is, I get my films from “Netflix.” As great as “Netflix” is, they don’t have some of the films in this collection so when I jumped on to get “Floating Weeds” I took what they had, which was the 1934 version. I did NOT realize that Ozu had directed a 1959 version and that it was, basically, a remake (or as Disney would say today: A “reimagining”…sigh, “Escape to Floating Weeds.”)

It wasn’t until I had finished my review that I realized that the film Jason was going to watch was the 1959 version and I was stuck with watching and reviewing the 1934 version. This made for an interesting thought, though – as to how different WOULD they be? Since Jason did not see the 1934 version and I didn’t see the 1959 version – you’ll just have to read the reviews and then decide for yourself which version you want to watch.

“The Story of Floating Weeds” is a simple story beautifully told. Filmed in 1934 it is a silent Japanese film.

The story is about a small town in Japan where a traveling acting troupe shows up to spend a year, or so, performing. Seems the leader of the troupe had a bit of a dalliance with a local restaurant owner and had sired a child. That child is now a nice young man of 18 (or so). He has been told his father was a civil servant who died (yeah, better that than the bastard son of an ACTOR!). Still, he is blissfully ignorant when his “uncle” shows up.

The “uncle” and the son bond over fishing, games and eating corn-on-the-cob.

Once the group sets up to perform, they steal money from one of the child actors to buy things, put on a show and then get bogged down in a rain storm that won’t allow them to perform. Why…? I don’t rightly know, but where-ever it is they are performing, rain comes through the roof. 1934 must not have been a banner year for Japanese roofing contractors.

The Father, leaving his troupe to suffer a boring existence in the theatre, hooks back up with his ex. (Okay, not LITERALLY hooking back up, but just hanging out, having some tea, wearing a thing on his head and bonding with his son.)

Problem, though, is that his current girlfriend (who is also part of the troupe) gets wind of this gets jealous. She shows up to find the Father and his Ex hanging out and having a laugh (in the warm and un-rained-on comfort of her restaurant). Talking to another actress, she pays the actress some cold hard cash to pretend to like his son. Why? Possibly to break his heart like the father was breaking hers.

Angry and frustrated by their situation, the actress (or is it the mother?) threatens to tell the boy the truth about everything but the father just won’t have that. Better the boy be hidden from all that (THE SCANDAL!).

So now the film is working on two fronts. Front 1. When will the boy find out that his “uncle” is really his father? Front 2. When will the boy find out that his new love interest is playing him like a Japanese ceremonial drum?

Of course the woman falls in love with the boy (and his bike) and decides she wants to stay. In fact, due to the weather, the troupe needs to disband and go their separate ways. Even this recession is damaging 75 year old acting troupes traveling through small towns in Japan.

With this revelation the mother says that they can finally all live together again. That the boy is old enough to know the truth that all can be right with the world. But the father just can’t deal with that.

When the father finds out that his current girlfriend is trying to hurt the boy with the other actress, a good old fashion beat down happens and the boy comes to her defense. But, the truth is out now. Not only IS he is father, he’s been sending money all along to help the boy get through school.

Devastated, the boy runs away to…upstairs? I wasn’t really sure.

The young girl, though, is distraught and the Father suggests that she stay there.

He returns to what is left of the troupe (he sold off all the costumes and props) and his current girlfriend and they reconcile over a couple pipe puffs and decide to create another troupe with a few remaining members.

Everyone will be okay.

WHAT I LIKED:

The first thing that stunned me was the quality of the film. By GOD how Janus/Criterion found a print this good is beyond my complete comprehension. It. Is. Stunning.

The story was great, and, like I said: “A simple story, beautifully told.”

I also thought it was funny that when the “dialogue cards” would pop up, there would be 15 letters (words?) in Japanese Kanji and the English equivalent would be something like: “What?”

The use of props was also a great visual. The boy’s bike, the little boy’s “piggy bank,” the bearded head statue, etc. A great use of visuals to link with certain characters and locations.

Acting was good, not too over-the-top, just very good.

WHAT I DIDN’T LIKE:

Well…there were some “beat-downs” of women, lots of slapping around and, of course, the women often called the father, Master – which just doesn’t sit too well with me in Seattle in 2009…but, what can I do about that now?

BOTTOM LINE:

Really, really, great. Certainly not a film I would see if I wasn’t taking part in this adventure and a reminder of what is great about cinema. Even 75 year old cinema.

ADDENDUM:

After reading Jason’s review, I realize I got the better end of this deal. The exterior visuals in the 1934 film were, of course, in black-and-white – not cluttered with Technicolor. The 1934 film is also 30 minutes shorter than the 1959 version but it sounds like they’re almost exactly the same in all other aspects. The static shots didn’t bother me as much as they seemed to bug Jason but…I think if I had to put up with another 30 minutes of static shots…maybe the film would have lost some of its charm.