Lately, lauded cinematography has been full of nature-porn wide shots (looking at you, “The Revenant“) and catchy camera movement (ok, maybe just you, Emmanuel Lubezki). For a film to be recognized and receive accolades for its camerawork, the effects need to be stellar (pun intended), or full of inventive shots that focus and refocus your attention (“Children Of Men,” etc.). Films like “Citizen Kane” and “2001: A Space Odyssey” are still commended for their behind-the-scenes handiwork, and all these films represent a loud approach to viewing a film. They come in with a bang and literally stay there — the essence of the shot is in its voraciousness for attention.
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But it isn’t all about camera movement and it isn’t just about the ostentatious shot. In Yasujiro Ozu‘s 1959 “Floating Weeds,” the director’s stunning quiet cinematography brings to life a world beyond the lens — a Technicolor reality handpicked by a true auteur. Now, this isn’t at all mocking the aforementioned cinematography; Ozu’s techniques are merely different and provide a new, softer insight into what makes a film beautiful.
In a new video essay by the Royal Ocean Film Society edited by Andrew Saladino, Ozu’s technique is broken down, and his distinct style (separating film into depth, pillow shots, and composition) is explored. The director liked texture; he wanted to create a space inside his shot that felt natural and real not only to the players, but especially to the audience. In order to achieve this, he’d use deep focus, a flat lens, and some important props — from sake bottles to bicycles. In his pillow shots, or cutaways, Ozu utilized his scenery as a form of punctuation (as we hear in the video from Roger Ebert). Instead of cutting to, say, a tree or a glacial tundra, Ozu would linger on a lighthouse, a building, or a now-empty location shot from earlier in the film. In “Floating Weeds” this gives the viewer an opportunity to digest and consider this world from a new angle.
Ozu’s composition techniques may seem guarded, when in reality they are merely inconspicuous, building a frame inside of a frame instead of moving the camera to suit his environmental needs.
This remake of his own silent film “A Story of Floating Weeds” is a must-see, and now there’s the perfect companion piece to watch afterwards. Do you have a favorite Ozu shot? Let us know in the comments below.