Ojôsan kanpai

The postwar democratization of Japan was supposed to make everyone equal. But the stigma of nobility and merchant class remained. So when car shop owner Keizo begins dating Yasuko, the daughter of former nobility, many complications ensue. Today this film comes across as just another match of opposites, and a not-particularly interesting one at that. But at that time it was major. This topic was dealt with more dramatically in Anjo-ke no Butokai (Ball at the Anjo's House) two years earlier. Here it becomes a comedy of manners. A very quiet comedy. As such, it may be hard to sit through for those expecting clever wit or humorous situations. Every gesture is very subtle: the touch of a glove in place of a hand, the foaming remains of a beer in a glass in the climactic scene. I liked the interaction between the two. Hara, as usual, is magnificent, playing shy and demure with traces of shock and amusement. Sano flicks between sullenness and earnestness, showing his charm and anger in equal measures. Kinoshita does a fine job directing this film, showing a postwar Tokyo where one could freely drive or ride a motorbike on the streets. But overall, it's hard to recommend this to anyone other than fans of the director or Setsuko Hara.

There's nothing wrong with lighthearted, romantic fare. These kinds of movies are no longer in fashion; so this one feels refreshing, despite its age. And thanks to some melodramatic moments, a whimsy peppering of comedic elements, and odd music choices, it does not veer into totally sappy, syrupy territory.

I actually like the story, despite its recycled components. The acting is quite good. The editing is quirky but fun. It doesn't take itself too seriously; but at the same time, it is a mild, quiet reflection on the evolving culture of Japan at the time.

It's cutesy. And that's okay.

"Ojôsan kanpai" (Here's to the Lady, 1949) is a lighter turn from director Kinoshita Keisuke: a post-war romance narrative starring popular Shochiku stars Sano Shuji and Hara Setsuko. I like the fact that Kinoshita chose to lighten the mood a little bit, since his didactic melodramas "Kekkon" (Marriage, 1947) and "Fushicho" (Phoenix, 1947) didn't really do that much for me. "Here's to the Lady" however turns out to be a very loose film, that tries to be many different things, only succeeding in some. It's a comedy and also a kind of musical, but it also has some dramatic weight, and works as a time capsule as well. It is particularly interesting because of the presence of Hara Setsuko, and the fact that the star did the film the same year as "Banshun" (Late Spring, 1949), her first collaboration with Ozu.

For "Here's to the Lady" is also a narrative about (sort of) arranged marriage, but it focuses less on the family relationships and more on the courtship and class differences. Sano is working class, and owns a car repair shop. Hara is a daughter of a formerly aristocratic family. Sakemoto Takeshi urges the two to meet, and they start dating, but soon troubles find their way to paradise.

I personally think the film should have focused more heavily on the dating, and the comedic elements. Because of the musical interludes, the drama doesn't feel all that important, but it manages to make the film very uneven. There are good moments, and the Shochiku cast is very good, Hara in particular. Yet because of the tone, I found it difficult to invest myself in these characters, even without any comparisons to "Late Spring".

In the end, the film is okay, certainly it's very harmless, but Kinoshita would truly start blossoming in the 1950's.

I'm a tad more positive about this film than my five IMDB colleagues below. While director Keisuke Kinoshita's pacing is undeniably on the somnolent side (i.e. I'd have nixed the subplot about the brother and his bride to be) and a lot of the humor seems forced I found myself drawn into this very gentle examination of Japanese class conflict through the medium of a rom com. Maybe it's the warmth of Setsuko Hara (whose smile is right up there with Audrey Hepburn's, in my personal smile valhalla) or the lovely, poignant theme, or the wonderfully subtle depiction of an aristocratic family in economic, if not moral, decline, but this is one I'd like to see again. Give it a B plus. PS...Dumb Eng. Title. Sounds like a tribute to one's favorite hooker.

Takeshi Sakamoto comes to Shûji Sano. He says you're doing well with your automobile agency. You're 34. It's time you got married. Here's a picture of the young lady I have in mind. And he shows him a picture of aristocratic Setsuko Hara.

Sano is awestruck, just as you or I would be. Everyone in the family seems to approve, which seems mad. Eventually it comes out. Miss Hara's father is in prison, the family fortune is gone and there's a million yen mortgage on the house, where the piano has been sold off, the furniture is threadbare, and the elegant hardware is likewise gone. If he marries Miss Sato, there will be a financial arrangement.

Sano is insanely in love with Miss Hara, as anyone would be. She, however, is a beautifully behaved young lady. Sano doesn't care about the money, for once in his life. All he wishes, is for Miss Hara to love him.

What is Keisuke Kinoshita doing, directing a screwball comedy from some one else's script after the War? Well, I'm sure he was well paid for it, and he fills it with some good slapstick. More than that, he fills it with the upper-class snobbery of the fallen aristocrat, the warmth of the bar that Sano frequents. In the brief period of perhaps ten years, when the old class structure was knocked down, to be replaced by a purely mercantile pseudo-aristocracy, there was some hope that the old, wrong barriers would be gone forever.

Looking at it with a cold eye, I thought I would note it was well made. Yet my opinion of it rose as it went on, filled not only with the obvious subplots and characters -- Sano's foster brother, Keiji Sada, is desperately in love with a woman whom Sano forbids he marry, because she is too low-class; Eiko Takamatsu gets stinking drunk and tells off Miss Hara; and so forth. Yet there are the moments of sterling performances, like Fusako Fujima as Miss Hara's grandmother, who natters on blithely how miserable her grand daughter has grown since her engagement. And there's Sano's performance, as a man who has fought his way up from poverty, while remaining kind.

And Setsuko Hara. I don't know how many performances I've seen her give, and just about every time, it seems I think whatever I'm looking at is among her finest. Just like this one.