Ojôsan kanpai

"I used up all my love and affection on that man. The fire inside my heart is gone now. What remains is only some smoke of sadness. That's who I am."

A 34-year-old, somewhat awkward manager of an auto repair shop (Shuji Sano) is urged by his friend to marry a beautiful young woman (Setsuko Hara). The man fears he comes from a lower class and isn't worthy of her, since they come from different worlds. She likes ballet, he likes boxing; she likes Chopin, he likes the folk song of his hometown. However, there are other issues that complicate things considerably: it turns out that her family has lost their fortune and need an influx of money, and also that she was once engaged to a man she truly loved, but who died shortly after the war. The man is wild for her, but senses her aloofness and doesn't like the idea of marrying a woman who doesn't truly love him.

The film thus involves peeling back the layers of possible motivations in a relationship to arrive at what's honest, the process of which was something I loved. The story is simple and maybe a little melodramatic, but the scenes which explored the couple's feelings towards each other are wonderful, in no small part due to Setsuko Hara, who is so expressive here. The performances across the board are strong too, including Sano, Fusaka Fujima (the woman's grandmother), and Sachiko Murase (the owner of the bar, and the man's friend). In a couple of fine scenes, the latter two somewhat unintentionally channel feelings from both sides of the relationship in ways that are blunt, the grandmother because she's starting to lose her faculties, and the bar owner because she's been drinking. It's Setsuko Hara who is the true star here though, elevating the film every time she's on the screen. Kinoshita doesn't give us a masterpiece here, but between the film's playfulness, its cast, and the feelings it touches on, it was an enjoyable watch.

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.

Gentle marriage comedy from Kinoshita. Shuji Sano is a 34 year old man, a successful businessman but pretty unsophisticated. His friend introduces him to a potential bride in Setsuko Hara. At first she seems perfect, but as their courtship continues, Sano discovers there are some catches: her family is broke, so marrying a rich man might solve their problems. Hara's father is in prison. Also, Hara was engaged to a man who died a year and a half ago. In her own words, she used all her love and affection up on him. At first I was a little disappointed in how it ended. It seemed a little abrupt. But the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. Overall, a pretty good little film.

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.

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.