Japanese Reviews Reviews

Film Review: Café Lumière (2003) by Hou Hsiao-Hsien

'You just stay silent.'

To mark the centenary of 's birth, made his own , “Café Lumière,” a film with Hou's individuality, but full of subtle nuances in tribute to the Japanese master. The family drama gets a modern-day setting, with cultural change seen across the generations.  

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Yoko (Taiwanese-Japanese musician ) is a journalist who switches her time between Tokyo and Taiwan. Researching Taiwanese composer Wen-Ye Jiang, she seeks out a cafe the composer frequented when based in Tokyo. And in tribute to Ozu, who favored dialogue over story, that is about that in terms of plot.

Family and its changing nature is a theme hinted at throughout, with Yoko being pregnant by her boyfriend in Taiwan. However, she has a somewhat blasé attitude towards the pregnancy, and indeed her boyfriend; unconcerned as to whether she sees him again, let alone allowing him to father his child. Still relevant today, this very much fits the reported Twenty-first Century attitude among younger Japanese of sex and relationships as ‘bothersome.'

Yoko's father () seems unimpressed with her attitude, while her step-mother tries to do what she can to please her. Living in the countryside, their visiting her in her small Tokyo apartment is reminiscent of Ozu's “Tokyo Story” (1953), with the elders feeling out of place in the modern metropolis; her father maintaining silence. Her lack of hospitality also mirrors Ozu's masterpiece, borrowing food and sake from neighbors, but also treating her parents as a burden.

This is a modernising of Ozu's take on the empowerment of women, as seen in the likes of “” (1960), where a younger female shuns the traditional expectations placed upon her. Four decades along the line, not just rejecting the ideas of arranged marriage, Yoko is quite content to tackle the pregnancy alone and continue her search for Jiang. But Hou includes some caution, as she finds herself alone on a train station platform feeling sick.

Trains are an important theme in “Café Lumière,” as indicated through Hajima (), Yoko's bookshop worker friend and Tokyo rail network obsessive: recording the various sounds and creating digital artwork of Tokyo's trains. The sounds he records, such as the infamous Yamanote Line station announcements, are part of modern-day Tokyo life, as was the growing presence of neon lights on the cityscape of Ozu's later work.

Here, Tokyo is morphing into a modern-day megalopolis – a confusing and sprawling mass of railway networks. The slow shots of trains chugging along are an Ozu staple, but here are similarly a beautifully ugly image of the modern city, with Tokyo the true star of the film. As with Wim Wenders' search for Ozu in “Tokyo-Ga” (1985), this is a documentation, the cast less acting, but filmed as they go about the tasks they are asked to perform.

Viewed in isolation, “Café Lumière” is a slow piece with little really going on. But viewed as an Ozu tribute, this is a film full of nuance for the initiated, as many search for the hidden world of the Japanese master.  

About the author

Andrew Thayne

Born in Luton, Gross Britannia, my life ambition was to be a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. But, as I entered my teens, after being introduced to the films of Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan (at an illegal age, I might add), it soon dawned on me that this ambition was merely a liking for the kung-fu genre. On being exposed to the works of Akira Kurosawa, Wong Kar-wai, Yimou Zhang and Katsuhiro Otomo while still at a young age, this liking grew into a love of Asian cinema in general.

When not eating dry cream crackers, I like to critique footballing performances, drink a beer, pretend to master the Japanese and Hungarian languages and read a book.

I have a lot of sugar in my diet, but not much salt.

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