Almost Random Film Observation - Ozu

Prompted by something, I can't put a finger on what, I've been thinking about Ozu's camera work, specifically, how he moves the camera. It's probably due to a class I'm taking, on poetry - I was probably thinking about how form signifies in art - how a formal device can convey emotion or meaning. (Like the repeating pairs of sounds etc. in, say, Shakespeare's Sonnet #12 invoke the ticking of a clock, the back an forth of time.) That, I suppose, made me think of the crane shot that comes at the end of Early Summer - the only crane shot Ozu ever used, as far as I know. And maybe even more rare - an instance of a moving camera (or any formal device) in an Ozu film that carries fairly explicit emotional and signifying weight. The camera goes up as two women walk to the sea, and it's hard not to see it as a metaphor - a moment of soaring, something - whatever sorts of troubles are coming for all involved, here is a moment where someone in an Ozu film is about to do Exactly what She Wants To Do. And before the scene is over - her sister in law will second her decision: the two women will share the understanding that while nothing is perfect, this will be a Good Thing for Noriko.

But what struck me about it, thinking about it, and thinking about the patterns of moving cameras in Ozu's films, is this: that though this is the only time he used a crane, he uses it in a way that maintains the general rules he sets for moving his camera. That is - it might be his one crane shot - but it is still very much an Ozu shot.

I suppose I should say something about that. I don't mean to do a complete anatomy of Ozu's camera movements - just sketch the patterns, and note their characteristics. (Though once you start playing that game with Ozu, it's hard to stop.) He's fond of lateral tracks - especially in the prewar films, though there are still some in the later films, like Early Summer. In the earlier films they are often comic - and can be very elaborate, sometimes reversing direction, cutting in the middle, making jokes and so on - the later moves tend to be very spare and much less motivated. He's also fond - always was - of shots of people walking, that keep the people in the same place in the frame. These can be lateral tracks (especially in the early films), or frontal shots where the camera retreats, or following shots. And sometimes, he will track forward - usually through an empty space - a hall or room - though once in a while it will move in on an object. Early Summer has a track in on a broken oaf of bread, for instance. Okay - given these types of camera movements: he also usually organizes them characteristically. He will repeat a camera movement - Early Summer repeats a track through a theater - the first time toward the old man cupping his ear; the second time the theater is empty. He also frequently cuts from movement to movement - Early Summer has, I think, 13 moving shots: 3 different times, he cuts from a moving shot to another moving shot - and one of the three is in fact 3 consecutive moving shots. And - all of them, I think, follow the same patterns of 45-90-135-180 degree angles that David Bordwell has discussed in his editing. Shots move perpendicular to the dominant plane of the shot - or they move straight forward or back. Very rarely (though more commonly in the early films, again) they will move at a 45 degree angle...

Which brings me to the crane shot. Even here - 1) it is related to all those shots of people walking and talking: the camera rises as the women rise, climbing a dune - it rises to keep them roughly in a fixed place in the screen. 2) Note that the camera goes straight up - maintaining the 90 degree rule; 3) and emphasizing it, with the strong horizontal horizon lines of the beach. Even when he does something uncharacteristic - he makes it completely characteristic. even something that has as much emotional freight as this might be made to carry - it functions more or less perfectly within the abstract patterns of his style. The ability to do both, always - is what makes Ozu Ozu.