A film from 1995 that looks stale and just right today.
We were always loved when we were young. Reluctant to part, reluctant to part with relatives, reluctant to get along day and night. Driven by this kind of emotion, Yumiko runs after her grandma in the title sequence, begging her to stay. Grandma said she was going back to Shikoku and died there. Yumiko cried and said that grandma would not die, but grandma left without looking back. From then on, I knew she would never come back... Grandma's back is quiet and unconcerned, like going to a distant place for an appointment, so there is no need to look back.
This miss has made Yumiko concerned for her whole life. From being a little girl to marrying a woman, she always wakes up from the same nightmare with a peaceful life. Her husband Yu Fu comforted her, but didn't tell her that he would leave without saying goodbye one day. Maybe it was because he was tired of the heavy work in the printing house, or tired of the peaceful life, or just wanted to see what the scenery looked like at the end of the railroad tracks. Yu Fu chose to die. Still the same rainy day, the same coffee, the same bike, and he left, leaving nothing behind. Except, of course, a note identifying him and a key with a bell. "I won't be here tomorrow."
My husband left unexpectedly, but I didn't see Yumiko's tears. But her calmness, her silence, the way she sat by the window with her knees on her back, was more turbulent and more grief than tears. Even though she remarried to Minxiong many years later and continued to live a peaceful life, she still couldn't hide the loss and doubt in her eyes. Isn't she a wandering wanderer? The village by the sea, the wind chimes blown by the wind, the ebb and flow of the tide day after day, and the unfamiliar lover may not be the love in her heart, but her agreement with fate. She still believes and loves everything. On a summer evening, a happy family was eating watermelon on the corridor, and Minxiong asked, "Do you want to add some salt?"
Admittedly, it was Hirokazu-eda who was a storyteller. Yumiko's navy blue dress, the path at four in the morning, the dark night after the rain, the dim interior, the gray-white house, the shrill roar of the train passing by, the storm and the snow on the sea, all the sights made me feel depressed and unsure of what to do. measures, and even thought of death. The sudden change of light, the heart-warming singing, and the figures of the children chasing and playing, also just neutralized the faint gloom and pain. Presumably the crabs that grandma bought back must be very precious, "I promise you."
The film is too quiet, with minimal dialogue and simple repetitive scenes, with every frame paused for a few seconds. However, there are countless conflicts and choices hidden in this silence. It not only makes people see the hope of life, but also makes people forget the fear of death. Just like the funeral at the end of the film, in the mountains, by the sea, on the canvas of nature, death is nothing, let alone you and me.
Life and ebb and flow, like breathing calmly.
If you are going far, please do not leave without saying goodbye.
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