The Morning Breeze

by Brent Peters

Sure is hot, huh?

It’s an empty phrase, but it has a purpose. If you’re exhausted, cursing the broken A/C, and trying to breathe through allergies, what are you gonna say when you accidentally make eye contact with an equally tired colleague?

『暑いですね』 “Sure is hot, huh?”

The other person nods. They offer a weak smile and agree. 『ですね』“Sure is.”

There are a lot of ‘empty’ phrases like this. Everyone’s wondered if the daily “good morning” and “take care” have any real meaning. Recently, I’ve found a more generous reading of these “social lubricants”. This playful examination came via the 1959 comedy Good Morning (Ohayо̄) from director Ozu Yasujiro.

Classic movie lovers will recognize the name. Ozu is one of the most praised filmmakers of all time. His work is slow, quiet, intricate, and contemplative. His films includes some of the most heartrending, intimate dramas ever made. Naturally, I’m going to recommend the movie with fart jokes.

I first intended to use this piece to highlight several Ozu films. The guy is incredibly fascinating, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface after seeing five films, multiple interviews, and a documentary. Ozu earned the title of “Japan’s most Japanese filmmaker” for reasons that would take a full essay to explain.

Instead of writing an(other) overlong essay on my newest rabbit hole, Ozu presented a more fun, focused subject.

Good Morning is a slice-of-life ensemble comedy about a small community. The houses have almost no space between each other. Friends call each other by opening their windows; they don’t need to yell. Everyone sees everyone else multiple times a day, practically stumbling over each other whenever they step outside.

The movie never lets you forget how close these people are. Shots from one living room show the occupant of the next house over. If several houses happen to have their windows open, you can see down the whole block. This is a community where a drunk person can stumble into the wrong house by means of a single misstep.

When people are that close together, they need to stay on good terms. Of course, they offer their most polite Ohayо̄. If a person so much as delivers their greeting at an unexpected pitch, the rumor mill springs into action. Gossip turns the most mundane actions into elaborate dramas.

Ozu’s point is as blunt as it is funny: a lot of this gossip and polite talk is verbal flatulence. We have young male students showing off their ability to fart on command, using elaborate gestures to test each other and prove their merits. The kids find camaraderie in their artificially tuned toots, just as the countless phrases help adults get along.

This comparison becomes most obvious in one of the funniest jokes of the film. A grown man lets one slip. His wife steps into the room, “What’d you say?”

My fellow English teachers will appreciate the constant jabs at language. Take, for instance, one of the recurring jokes. At the start of the film, we see the youngest of our main cast, Isamu (played by the brilliant Masahiku Shimazu), say “I love you” in English to his mother. Throughout the film, he says it to every person who does something vaguely nice to him.

Isamu doesn’t understand what “I love you” means. Seeing this adorable child drop these words into mundane situations is hilarious. Having spent the past two years trying to teach that “It’s Tuesday” is not the response to “How are you?”, this gag had me almost crying as I laughed.

This movie is so much more than wordplay, however. Not only is it the exemplary Slice-of-Life, far surpassing most anime of the genre, but it’s one of the most tightly written comedies you’ll ever watch. No word, gesture, or tonal inflection goes wasted. In a story about communication, this makes a bizarrely compelling result.

Early in the film, we have a lengthy sequence about a misplaced cheque. The woman who was meant to receive the cheque makes assumptions. The person who failed to deliver it must have used it for herself! She owns one of those new-fangled washing machines! She bought a washing machine with the cheque because she’s vapid! I ought to inform everyone not to trust her with money. This woman winds herself up and tries to get the whole neighbourhood wound with her.

There are no real stakes, but each tiny action creates ripples to which everyone in the community responds. The woman finds out she was wrong, but she’s too proud to admit as much, so she creates an elaborate excuse to a gullible friend, who immediately warns her children against spending too much time with that family, but this is undermined when the truth comes out.

Note: I just realized the how the constant laundry pole imagery works well to reinforce how nobody can keep their “dirty laundry” from their neighbours.

To paraphrase some old writing advice: there’s no “and then”. Only “but” and “therefore”. Tiny moments keep the viewer engaged because each scene feels both unexpected and natural.

No monsters. No swords. No existential threats. Ozu paints a picture of daily life. It’s too clean and tidy to be reality, both visually and linguistically, but it presents us things we know. We’re invited to stew in this safe place where we can poke fun at the world around us. Adults make silly decisions because of their pride or fear. Children act childish.

This last point leads to my final praise of Good Morning, as well as most of Ozu’s films. The child actors are brilliant. Ozu knew how to portray kids. Inexperienced, but not stupid. Immature, but not vapid.

Most of our threadbare plot focuses on children. From our massive ensemble, two young brothers take a vow of silence, refusing to speak until their parents buy a TV. You can imagine how this plays out with everything I’ve discussed above. Most of the movie’s marketing focuses on this silent strike, but it’s about more than that. This is a portrait of community, reality adjusted just enough to be cathartic and entertaining, but not so much that we can’t see truth in it.

I love this movie. It’s cute, funny, insightful, and playful. If you want something relaxing that’ll give you a look into a different Japan, you can’t do better than this. Check out the rest of Ozu’s movies, while you’re at it.