Early spring is a time to renew one's hopes, to believe once again that happiness is possible. Sometimes that hope takes the form of betrayal: an extra-marital affair may appear to be the answer to a life that is insufferably routinized and devoid of the thrill of adventure. The "salaryman" (in the US: "white-collar worker") is someone especially vulnerable: he enters the corporation filled with hope for his future, but, we are told, he soon discovers only disillusionment and "dissatisfaction" (a word that surfaces throughout the film). There are, of course, the blandishments of Japan's new consumer society: Note the presence of posters advertising foreign destinations throughout the film (Paris, Colombia, Finland); and note the reference to the withering of the plum trees (Japan's own) on a rich man's estate while bouganvilleas (a foreign import) thrive. But there's little to indicate that Ozu thinks these foreign bagatelles can bring happiness. Indeed, the film has a spareness about it, reflecting a world that has yet to become hopelessly cluttered with objects, which is, as we know too well, the other (the American) solution to dissatisfaction and disillusionment in human relationships and work. Each character tries to shape a life of work and relationships into something satisfying, but there's no simple formula to be found here for happiness in the modern world. There is only the dignity (or lack of dignity) of each individual in their attempt to find happiness. Ozu has brought to life characters who never gush in emotion, who don't even touch one another in the most intimate of reunions (the final husband and wife scene), and whose very restraint makes us feel all the more strongly about them. We feel honored to have shared a part of their lives.
Review of Early Spring
