Synopsis
Michiyo lives in the small place Osaka and is not happy with her marriage; all she does is cook and clean for her husband.
Michiyo lives in the small place Osaka and is not happy with her marriage; all she does is cook and clean for her husband.
Ken Uehara Setsuko Hara Yukiko Shimazaki Yōko Sugi Akiko Kazami Haruko Sugimura Ranko Hanai Hiroshi Nihon'yanagi Keiju Kobayashi Sō Yamamura Akira Ōizumi Ichirō Shimizu Haruo Tanaka Chieko Nakakita Sayuri Tanima Mitsue Tachibana Kumeko Otowa Yaeko Izumo Teruko Nagaoka Kumeko Urabe Hisako Takihana Eitarō Shindō
Meshi, Vida de Casado, Le repas, A Married Life, Jadlo, 밥, Il pasto, Le Repas, El almuerzo, Еда, 饭
the insular view of domestic drudgery and gendered labor vs. a fantasy excursion into what marriage means in a post-war japan beset by commercialism and westernization. as usual for naruse, it is an unsparing and unsentimental examination of how human beings deal with disappointment and unfulfilled ambitions -- the thesis of this film is that there is no alternate easier path of escapism, and that it is better for two people to recognize the shared humanity in each other even as they also see imperfections, that the point of a relationship is a united struggle and not the attainment of ideals or half-formed dreams, and that this can only be realized when placed in a situation of perilous temptation --…
"I had hopes and dreams before; where have they gone?"
My third experience with the work of Mikio Naruse is the wistful domestic melodrama Repast (めし), the very film that critical demigod Dave Kehr cites as inaugurating the director's mature period. Though co-written by Toshirō Ide and Sumie Tanaka, the film has its origins in an unfinished novel by Fumiko Hayashi (a kindred author whom Naruse would adapt five more times over the course of his career).
An archetypal shomin-geki, the film centers on the careworn Michiyo (Setsuko Hara), who married Hatsunosuke (Ken Uehara) over her parents' objections a half decade ago. Having since relocated from cosmopolitan Tokyo to the monotonous outskirts of Osaka for Hatsunosuke's work, Michiyo has become…
-What do you talk about with your husband everyday?
- I have a cat.
“How could I love the pitiful human lives more than I do, the pitiful human lives, which survive in this infinitely wide universe?"
Repast or Meshi refers not only to meal, but in Japanese also means the taste of the common people or the simple necessities of man. For me, this is the perfect title for a film by Naruse, who reflects the simple reality like no other and therefore, as a viewer, can make you identify immensely with a distant world, as for the film, which searches with an open mind which simple necessities the housewife Michiyo needs in order to be happy.
This film is based on the book by the female author Fumiko Hayashi who, due to…
When Michiyo (actual goddess Setsuko Hara) speaks, her words are almost always accompanied by a small smile, a gentle laugh and, like clockwork, lowered eyes. It's a learned behavior that uncuts the importance of her own words even as she presents them, a reflection of both social convention and Michiyo's personal navigation of an adulthood lined with disappointment.
Initially, one suspects, Michiyo's manner came across as coy. Much like her husband's young niece Satoko (Yukiko Shimazaki) exaggerates her own emotions for attention, and to manipulate people (men) into giving her what she wants, there's potential for flirtatiousness in Michiyo's giggles and lowered eyes. It's easy to imagine her early interactions with the man who would become her husband, fizzling with…
"You look happy"
"Do I?"
Negotiating life's disappointments. Outside of Hara's wonderful performance, the most impressive thing about this one is how Naruse uses his observational gaze as one extra element to reinforce her disaffection, his careful consideration can't stop adding an extra framing for an existence already full of it. The marriage drama is so precise observed between its movements and Naruse puts it in a large post war Japan context with care.
I knew this was going to be a banger when it opened with:
I love the pathetic tenacity of human beings that carry on living in the infinite vastness of the universe.
- Fumiko Hayashi
Repast gave me everything I love in Japanese melodramas. The characters, the grounded existentialism, the examination of contemporary (in mid-twentieth century Japan) culture that is both honest and borne from a genuine concern for the lives of everyday people- all of it is here. Even the most minor characters in this film have their own rich personalities.
Setsuko Hara's Michiyo is clearly the heart of the film, with this being one of her best performances I've seen yet. Her signature move has always been the…
A woman's hopes and dreams self-perceived as squandered whilst - as she puts it - "growing old and dying empty" is the sociological standard to which she now abides. From kitchen to living room to kitchen - all Michiyo does is wait on her husband when he's home and tidy up in his absence, yet the arrival of his wayward niece stirs something more in her. Is it jealousy of her freewheeling nature? Partially, but more importantly, her arrival yields a sort of perfect storm of foolishly misconstrued incidents she uses as excuses to ultimately escape from the conformity that supposedly stifles her so. From here, Naruse and Co. play off of Michiyo and Hatsunosuke's vulnerabilities in each other's absence…
well, colour me unimpressed with Repast’s early vain efforts in what seems to be a pseudo-feminist marriage drama. Setsuko Hara as a chronically exhausted and unhappy housewife, who moved from Tokyo to Osaka after marriage, is something to behold. making dinner, washing the dishes, cleaning the floors, and doing laundry, Hara’s Michiyo slaves away daily whilst her disinterested, passive husband lolls on the floor with a newspaper. she remarks on how she feels like a maid in one scene. although these chores keep her hands busy, her mind is elsewhere. as she laments the monotony of her days confined at home without money of her own, she also dwells on the what-could-have-been’s; a life in Tokyo with a likelihood of…
A strikingly realistic portrait of marital discontent. By the time the film starts the love marriage between Michiyo and Hatsunosuke has stagnated into domestic drudgery; Michiyo spends all her time doing menial chores while Hatsunosuke works a passionless office job that doesn’t pay particularly well. Real communication between the two is rare, and when it does occur it’s fraught with thinly veiled resentment (Setsuko Hara was the master of warm smiles tinged with resignation). Their numbing routine is interrupted by the arrival of Hatsunosuke’s free-spirited niece Satoko, a “modern woman” who disregards the plans her parents have set out for her and lives only for herself. Michiyo is both envious of and repelled by Satoko’s flightiness, feelings that are compounded…
Setsuko Hara has a cat.