User reviews

Incredibly gentle and touching Ozu picture about a single mother who works her butt off to send her only son off to school. Many years later, we follow her journey to visit that son in Tokyo. He hasn't kept in contact very well. His mother doesn't even know about his wife and infant son, nor that he is a grade school teacher, a rather low (and low-paid) position. Simply put, he's embarrassed at the little he has accomplished and he thinks his mother will be gravely disappointed that she went to so much trouble to educate him. The whole situation really hit home, and I was deeply moved by it. The film also features incredible cinematography and editing.

This is a nice piece of work from early Japanese cinema that's worth checking out for all fans of this period's films.

The plot is simple, nothing really special if you ask me, but Ozu sure knew how to handle this kind of simple stories he portrayed in all his films. It's a slow-paced film, which adds a more natural feeling to it in my opinion, full of powerful and emotional images supported by a really splendid and natural acting (as usual in Ozu's films).

Ozu really stands out from many other directors, he had the ability to portray life on screen and here you can definitely see it.

At first this kind of filmmaking didn't do much for me, but it has really grown on me with time. It surely is not for everyone; Ozu is just different cinema.

My score: 8.5/10

The simple story follows Tsune (Choko Iida), a widow and single mother who struggles in a factory job to provide for her son Ryosuke. She sacrifices everything in her own life to pay to send Ryosuke off to the best middle and high schools, toiling away at her thankless job while never getting to see her son. It's not until many years later, when the now-grown Ryosuke (Shin'ichi Himori) gets a surprise visit from his mother at his Tokyo home, that the two assess their lives.

This was Ozu's first sound film, and he can't help but poke fun at the format, with one scene seeing Ryosuke and Tsune attending a "talkie" movie, the old woman's first, only for her to fall asleep during it. But while there are many moments of gentle humor, this is largely a serious affair, taking an unflinching look at familial obligation and expectation. The film asks what the true measure of a man is. Is it financial success, material wealth, a nice home and fat bank account? Or can it be strength of character and generosity of spirit? Ozu doesn't give any definitive answer, and the final sequence of the film leaves the true feelings of Tsune toward her son rather ambiguous.

It's quite striking that although this film was made 17 years before Tokyo Story, all the aspects of the film-making style we have come to associate with Ozu are already fully present. But compare this film with, say, his "Sono yo no tsuma", made just six years earlier in 1930: in that film --- a rather slavish attempt to copy the style of German Realism -- none of the visual and narrative features he shows here are present.

No one has mentioned (so I will...) -- that the German film which Ryosuke takes his mother to see (in which she falls asleep, and of which he self-referentially says "this is what they call a talkie") is Willi Forst's 'Leise flehen meine Lieder' (Vienna, 1933), and the lovely blonde actress seen running through the wheatfields is Louise Ullrich. This film (now largely forgotten) was a popular sensation in Europe at the time, depicting the love affair between Franz Schubert and the Countess Eszterhazy. Also... noticeable in a few scenes in Ryosuke's house is a large travel poster which says 'Germany'. All of which shows the extent to which European film-making was in the mind of the young Ozu. We think of Ozu as a purely "domestic" Japanese director (in every sense of that word), but in fact he was well-versed in the traditions of western film-making.

It is a shame that this film is not available for wider viewing. I had the opportunity of seeing it at an Ozu retrospective in Cleveland. This film measures up to the other great classic Ozu films. The impact of Ozu's films works in much the same way as Japanese painting. There is great power in its open spaces and silences. They lend greater power to the words and emotions that are expressed. The dignity of the characters as they struggle with life is moving. Ozu is a master

of world cinema because he deals with themes of universal import and he does so with impeccable style. Especially noteworthy in this film is his effective use of music and sound. All in all, a very worthwhile experience

Of all the major directors in the world, Ozu was the last one to convert to sound; "The Only Son" was his first "all-talkie" film (in 1936), and it is remarkably inventive (technically) as well as deeply moving. Once again, his film deals with family dynamics: in this case, a widowed mother who has worked selflessly to provide her son with an education. But when she goes to visit him, she finds that he has not fulfilled his promise: he's stuck in a mediocre job, he has a wife and child and can't make any drastic changes because of his responsibilities. The ways that the mother and son try to reach an understanding, and their mutual resignation to the disappointments of life, create a glancing but powerful sense of that "quiet desperation" which was so often Ozu's theme.

In 1923, in the province of Shinshu, the widow and simple worker of a silk factory Tsune Nonomiya (O-Tsune) decides to send her only son to Tokyo for having a better education. Thirteen years later, she visits her son Ryosuke Nonomiya (Shinichi Himori), and finds that he is a poor and frustrated night-school teacher with a wife, Sugiko (Yoshiko Tsubouchi), and a baby boy.

"Hitori Musuko" is a poignant, heartbreaking, sensitive and beautiful movie about expectations, frustrations, revelations and hope in life. Once again the major concern of Ozu is with the family and human relationship. In "Hitori Musuko", Ozu brilliantly uses the sound, recent in 1936, in the end of the simple but touching story, when the machines in the factory stop working symbolizing the death of Tsune. I saw this movie in a Brazilian cable television in a copy that certainly needs restoration, and I regret to inform that only "Ohayô" has been released on DVD in Brazil. Only in festivals, and occasionally in cable television, Brazilians have the chance to see the work of this great director. Seeing the number of votes of this masterpiece in IMDb (only 88 votes), I believe that the distribution problem of this film might be international. My vote is ten.

Title (Brazil): "Filho Único" ("Only Son")

A simple story about a mother's sacrifices to enable her son to get a secondary school education, and his subsequent struggle as an adult to be financially successful in Tokyo.

The heart for Ozu's first talkie is certainly in the right place, but at times I confess it became tedious, even with its short 82 minute runtime. It was also hard to connect to a guy who shows his gratitude to his mother by not telling her when he gets married, or when she becomes a grandma. I felt his shame for not having gotten a better job and his desire to impress her with the city, as well as the pathos of how it's turning out for him (that incinerator shot is practically like dreams going up in smoke), but the film is pretty limited in exploring the emotional spectrum for any of these characters, the women especially.

Instead, the filler material is delicately constructed scenes meant to show how humble these lives are, and how the pain of worry (the mom) and disappointment (the son) are hidden beneath the front of false smiles. Some of it worked, but a lot of it just seemed rather banal to me. Meanwhile, 1936 was a turning point for Japan in several ways politically, which made me perk up at a couple of references to Germany (the film they attend and the travel poster on the wall), but the references are rather faint. Overall, not awful, but only mildly interesting.

This film starkly depicts both rural and urban poverty in depression-era Japan. It examines the impact that the national delusion that "education will allow everyone to get ahead" had on the lives of ordinary people. He shows that, in reality, people found that getting an education got them "nowhere". The film does not deal with abstractions, but real people, who face individualized dilemmas. The performances are exceptional, especially that of Choko Iida -- as a mother who gives up everything to let her only son pursue higher education -- only to find that her son is mired in near-poverty, instead of being a big success in Tokyo.

Hitori musuko / The Only Son (1936) : Brief Review -

Ozu's First Talkie deals with an dreadful universal theme without losing roots of human emotions. We all struggle to make big in our lives, some give up easily, some keep trying and some give up after continuous attempts but was it all enough content to make a film? May be yes and may be no. I am not sure about it but one thing i am about is, yes, Ozu's painful saga on dreadful truth of life was definitely something. It might not have came out as cult film because of the dramatic shortcomings, it still has its own tragic zone that can shatter you easily. A widow sends her only son away to receive a better education. Years later, she visits him, finding him a poor school teacher with a wife and son. The fundamental theorem of struggle can be noticed in the film with many scenes hammering the poverty thing again and again. However, it has right and inspirational message that encourages viewers not to give up easily. Like i said, here film lacks those dramatic segments i mean those sobbing moments which could have made it more emotional. Nevertheless, it still has heartbreaking stuff to be followed by the end. That pin drop silence moment in the last frame is truly heart burning. All the actors have done good in their roles irrespective of little dull framing in the execution. Ozu's talkie effect is bit down because most of the frames are exactly same what we saw in his Silent films. Even some expressions aren't captured well, that's unexpected. Expectedly, his storytelling is much better than the execution may be because it was his first talkie and he couldn't deal with the new projections of cinematic experience. Despite couple of big mistakes, The Only Son manages to provide you an engrossing and emotional family drama which might even stay with you forever.

RATING - 7/10*

By - #samthebestest

"The Only Son" is Ozu's first "talkie" - and utilizes sounds/dialogue in a stylistic manner to tell a simple story. The beautiful simplicity that pervades the piece is classical Ozu, and amplifies the poignant tale of a mother coming back to visit her son, after sacrificing her livelihood to ensure he achieves higher education. When she realizes that he is unsatisfied with his life as a night-school teacher, a general melancholic tone begins to unfold through the progression of the narrative.

There are some fine indoor shots of the house where the son lives, and also, some greatly composed scenes of the run-down industrial neighborhood where the son goes out to buy "noodles" from a nearby stand. What's also memorable about the film is its excellent rendition of outdoor nature shots, one scene stands out in my mind where the son is having a discussion with his mother. There is also a great shot of the night-school teacher looking out dismal and lonely from the school-building to a city sign, which is juxtaposed against a dark, night sky.

The ending is nicely done, and overall, the film is crafted in that spare, simple perfection that is the stylistic hallmark of Ozu's cinema.

In which genre would you place an Ozu film? Most would say 'melodrama', simply for ease, but to put this director's body of work into a category cram packed with the saccharine misfires of Hollywood all the way to the recent, shamelessly OTT 'Black Swan' (which, bizarrely, has found its way into the IMDb Top 250) is surely either a sign of laziness, a misunderstanding of his work or a pure insult.

If the films of Ozu really can be classed as 'melodramas', then we must first state that they are in a league of their own, and revolutionary to the category, providing endless inspiration for artists of all kinds - filmmakers, authors, actors and theatre directors have all named him as an influence. While other directors were busy shamelessly masturbating the emotions of their audience with forced dialogue, contrived plots and unbelievable amounts of glamorous cheese, Ozu's films, by comparison, would be seen by many people as anticlimactic and boring. Yet never in his career did he make a poor film, and mediocrities are few and far between (most of which are lost in his silent work). Indeed, even though 'The Only Son' was Ozu's first sound picture, he had been working in film for many years before this production. What we see in this early film is the work of a director already confident with the medium in which he worked, and the result is an understated, dignified delight.

It seems wrong to give a plot summary, as the story itself is of little consequence. Ozu was one of the few directors who managed to master the art of transcending the confines of plot and escape to the much wider universe in which emotional honesty and character all come into their own.

Some may be wondering what I am talking about, considering that Ozu always seemed to focus on family relationships. There are many who would argue that in actual fact, he never really experimented at all, and limited himself to this one subject.

But what a fascinating subject it can be. Ozu, with graceful skill and extreme talent, managed to explore human existence more completely than any director before or since, all with a largely stationary camera disclosing to the viewer immaculately ordered shots, and often placed at the eye level of a person seated on a tatami mat.

In this film, a mother working at a silk mill in rural Japan decides to send her son to secondary school in the hope that he will be able to escape his poor heritage and make something of himself in Tokyo. Sounds underwhelming and clichéd enough, doesn't it? But forget about that. As always with Ozu, it is his humanity, the nuances of the performances and the beautiful dignity and sympathetic nature of his direction that makes the film worth watching. His films tap into emotional realms that others can only make pathetic, superficial attempts at penetrating, and for that and that alone, his films should be treasured. This is no exception, and it is the perfect starting point to first time viewers of Ozu's work.

PS - As it is no exception, mind you have some Kleenex at the ready. Tears tend to run freely down the cheeks of the most hardened critics during these excursions into Ozu's Japan.

And for Ozu fans, this also stars Chishu Ryu, Ozu's favourite actor, in a minor role as the young boy's primary school teacher.

This is Ozu's first sound film, but could you really tell if you didn't know? The minutiae of the soundscape are so masterly affixed to what we see. Indeed, this could've been filmed in the fifties and I wouldn't have had any idea if it weren't for the rather dismal quality of the available film elements (this is available on the Blu-ray/DVD edition of Late Spring from the BFI).

There's a single scene where the camera moves, and it's so understated, lasting only a few seconds, that you wouldn't perhaps even notice it's there. It's natural, subdued. Whatever antonym to "obtrusive" you may come up with likely describes it. But that's what Ozu is all about: things happen below the surface reticently, on all levels — characters' complex emotions have to be decoded from their smiles; the visual intricacies aren't revealed in the movement of the camera, instead it's the positioning of the thing that makes us go there, into that space, and notice things.

I saw Vigo's whole oeuvre again with a friend a few days ago, the four films during one evening. Especially "L'Atalante" (1934) struck me again as the most amazing film: hardly anything happens, and what happens is almost trivialized in comparison to the mood of the thing, the visual atmosphere that has been set up, and how the camera moves in that environment. Ozu is so similar, albeit setting up his eye radically differently. No matter that the camera hardly moves, it's the same kind of strong visual thinking throughout. Ozu doesn't have similar paroxysms of emotion, but the poetry is there in how nothing seems to happen while everything is happening.

Like any other Ozu movie Hitori Musuko's appeal is in its simplicity and universality. There is no element of surprise in the movie. Perhaps every scene and sequence in the narrative is predictable. Why? Because the same scenes, in almost the same sequence are repeated in our day to day lives. The characters in Ozu's movies can be seen all around us. This is irrespective of any age, country, religion, cast, creed, color or to say simply this transcends any human boundary. This is the beauty of Ozu. It's universality. Doesn't this movie or Tokyo Story (1953) tell the same story? The story of life. The humanity. There is no good or bad in his movies. No heroes or villains. No character in black and white. Everyone is born with weaknesses and strengths. These are the aspects that form the basis of Ozu's movie. All can recognize the characters from their daily lives.

I am also enraptured by his style, use of camera, music. So subtle, poetic that it merely mimics this simplicity. I feel that Ozu's movies will have appeal as long as there will be life on earth. Because he portrays the universal truth through his camera, narrative, musical scores. And that truth is nothing but humanity.

"The only son" can in my opinion no longer be called "an early Ozu". As usual the film is about the parent - children relationship. It is however no longer about little kids and young parents (as in for example "I was born, but ... " (1932)) but about an aging mother and a grown up child. It was also Ozu's first talkie. Ozu was not an early adopter of sound technology and in "The only son" he makes a little joke to incorporate a visit to the cinema in the plot. The film shown is a talkie of course, and a German film (about which more later).

The relationship between the aging mother and the adult son seems to have much in common with the later masterpiece "Tokyo story (1953), as the mother is clearly disappointed in what has become of her son who has a humble job and lives in a modest house near a waste incinerator.

On second glance the relationship is however quite different. In "Tokyo story" the disappointment was caused by the unwillingness of the children to invest time in (the visit of) their parents. Children who were alse rather complacent. In "The only son" the disappointment mainly relates to the humble job and house. The mother has brought great sacrifices to finance the education of her son and had hoped for a better "return on investment". On the other hand the son is not complacent at all. Aware of the sacrifices his mother has brought the son is a little ashamed of himself. That is also the reason why he has not informed his mother about his marriage and baby. He would rather not have his mother come to Tokyo and see his lack of success.

Towards the end of the film the son proves to be a very likeable person. For the mother this compensates partially but not entirely for his lack of success. The film clearly ends in a minor key.

His main subject being the relation between parents and children, Ozu's films are widely regarded as timeless. "The only son" is one of the most time bound movies I saw from him. The second half of the 30's were a hectic time for Japan. A depressed economy due to the afterpains of the 1929 Wallstreet crash, rising nationalism, occupation of Manchuria, a pact with Nazi Germany.

The pact with Germany is present in the poster in the house of the son and mocked in the scene of the visit to the cinema where a rather "Blut und boden" German film is shown. More important is the role the economic depression plays. Due to unemployment relatives were more important then knowledge in getting a decent job. So it is not only the son who is to blame for the fact that the sacrifices of his mother did not pay off.

One limitation of movies is it's difficult for screenwriters and directors' to show on the screen the true inner feelings of their characters, something literature can convey much easier. Japanese director Yasujiro Ozu had a knack for diving deep inside his characters' inner psyche and capturing their sentiments on film. His trademark was shooting long, lingering static shots capturing the subtle emotions displayed from his actors, a groundbreaking method of photography for cinema. In September 1936's "The Only Son," the director's first film with sound, the simple plot contains layers of conflicting feelings of its characters, starkly seen in this spare tale of a mother and her son.

Ozu's magic on the screen, an acquired appreciation for the modern-day viewers, takes patience yet is rewarding. His unique style consisted of what is known as 'pillow shots', low camera angles positioned eye-level with his actors who are usually sitting on floor mats. Ozu often positions his camera filming through windows and doorways, with brief dialogue bracketed by long periods of silence. The narrative of "The Only Son" examines the inner turmoil each participant goes through by the personal sacrifice of others closely related.

"The Only Son" kicks off with the quote "Life's tragedy begins with the bond between parent and child," and the movie never lets its audience forget that premise. Film critic Roger Ebert notices in Ozu's body of work, "Again and again, he focuses on parents and their children, and often on their grandchildren. A typical plot will involve sacrifice by a parent or a child for the happiness of the other. It is not uncommon for both parent and child to make sacrifices in a mistaken belief about what the other desires." Silk factory worker Tsune (Choko Lida) is a widow whose son has an intense desire to go to high school in Tokyo, an expensive proposition in Japan in those days. The son promises to become a great man, inspiring his mother to make painful financial sacrifices to pay for his schooling. Ozu's film then jumps 13 years forward when her son, Ryosuke (Shin'ichi Himori), invites his mother to his distant homestead for the first time. He kept from her the fact he's married and has a kid. The meager salary he receives teaching at a night school isn't exactly what the mother was expecting from her son, given all the tremendous sacrifices she made.

"Ryosuke is a typical Ozu child: obstinate, cranky, and selfish, utterly unselfconscious and the opposite of the cultural ideal," writes film reviewer Sean Axmaker. But his mother's visit slaps a bit of reality into the struggling son and awakens his desire to fulfill his pledge to his mother. Axmaker adds, "There is no triumph without sacrifice, and the film ends with a reminder of that sacrifice, not with a speech but a slump that communicates a disappointment straight from the soul."

As the simple, yet emotionally deep story unfolds, Ozu's transferred to sound the style of filming he had established in his silent films. "For Ozu, all depends on the composition of the shot," says Ebert. "He almost never moves his camera. He often begins shots before characters enter, and holds them after they leave. He uses evocative music, never too loud. I have never seen him use violence. When violence occurs, people commit it within themselves." Ozu's style is an acquired taste, confesses film reviewer Casey Scott on the director's first audible movie. "With sound," writes Scott, "Ozu begins his tradition of a sparse narrative in favor of simple camera set-ups and quiet scenes of character interaction, often in the domestic space, with deliberate pacing that will either draw you in or repel you into bored slumber. Truth be told, for the longest time, I was in the later camp, but approaching Ozu with one film after another, a wider appreciation for his accomplishments as a director began setting in. I can now count myself as an admirer and follower of his work."

"The Only Son" is Ozu's first "talkie" - and utilizes sounds in an efficient, restrained manner to help tell the story with calm grace. The beautiful simplicity that pervades the piece is classical Ozu, and amplifies the poignant tale of a mother coming back to visit her son, after sacrificing her livelihood to ensure he achieves higher education. When she realizes that he is unsatisfied with his life as a night-school teacher, a general melancholic tone begins to unfold through the progression of the narrative. The ending is nicely done, and overall, the film is crafted in that spare, simple perfection that is the stylistic hallmark of Ozu's cinema.

I'm quite surprised this movie is not more applauded or even available, because this is surely one of Yasujiro Ozu's best movies, for all the reasons. It ends up being known as Ozu's first talkie, but is is so much more than that as a movie! I understand that Ozu's style is not as refined as it will be in later movies (which made me ponder about giving it a 10 or a 9), but nevertheless all its elements are still there, pretty evident, recognisable and very meaningful, so it sure deserves the top grade. More than that, I've found this movie way more moving and sorrowful than most of his best work (most of Ozu's work is about dealing with disappointment and the sad aspects of life in a society of failed expectations... And this one does it in such a clear, sad, beautiful way).

More magnificent than its theme or the director's eye, the performances are brilliant, specially the mother's, that it should be considered one of all time's best. Chōko Iida goes from a hardworking, selfless mother to a grieving, desperate one. This is the story about a woman who sacrifices her life for her son's studies, only to find out he's not happy or fulfilled with his career. One of the most poignant and heartbreaking takes I've seen on screen, and owns it pretty much to Iida's extraordinary performance. Immediately became a fan of this lady. Seriously, again, give this movie a chance to be among the greatest!

A gem of a movie from a time forgone. A film that which keeps the moral fibre of man intact. It may not be for everyone, as it quietly defies many tropes and cliches that might develop in a family background. The love between the mother and son is very clearly felt and their common spirit endures throughout.

While having the privileged importance of being great director Yasujiro Ozu's first sound film, The Only Son also remains important for its emergence as the first truly "Ozu" work, in the sense that the very particular cinematic and thematic elements which make up what he is best known for coalesce together in a thoroughly emotional experience.

The story is simple enough, as Ozu usually tells. A widow attempts to save enough money for her son to go to college in Tokyo. She visits him years later, only to discover that he is not living the kind of sophisticated, well-off life she believed he would lead as a result of a college degree. What Ozu does with these characters is astonishing; he shows them in the most serene and simple of situations and settings yet uses his unique directing style to elicit subtle feelings and thoughts simmering just below the surface.

What this seems to suggest is Ozu's feelings regarding Japan in the 1930s, a tumultuous period in which the age of modernization seemed to be waning and Japanese society continued to be pressured into a militaristic hegemony. Clearly, Ozu resisted these transitions and his best offense was the films he made. The result is a quiet, gentle yet intense story about simple people wishing their lives, or the lives of their children, were better than they are. Through this, Ozu seems to reflect on the failure of Japanese innovation up to that point and the uncertainty of what the future might bring. Fortunately for the viewer, his specific style and insight remain as coherent and profound as ever.