"Japanuary."

How a Letterboxd event led to "Tokyo Story," a 1953 film that packs a punch about modernity and human nature.

As I wrote in one of the year-end posts looking forward to changes in 2025, getting more involved in the Letterboxd world and delving deeper into film was high on the list.

We all have to keep an effort up to make change, of course, and so I’m not surprised that I came a little bit late to the fifth annual “Japanuary Challenge” on Letterboxd, where the goal is to watch at least 10 Japanese films, but the organizers (“brazyben”being one of them) offer up 31 directors readers might want to sample plus 12 “bonus categories” to gain more ideas.

In addition to being slightly late — not late enough to miss the mark — it took me most of the month to really put the effort in. I might not make it to 10, but as Ben and this particular Letterboxd community make clear, really the point is just to expose yourself to Japanese film, directors, etc. and enjoy the experience. I saw a number of comments from people saying they were going to have to extend it to February, each creating an unnecessary new title for that when “Japanuary” works perfectly well for both January and February, conveniently enough.

I guess the point is that after “Tokyo Story,” I can see leaning into it and making this a thing for myself, no matter how long it takes me.

I’m not a complete stranger to Japanese filmmakers, but I did find myself clicking on suggested movies over and over again, seeing if they were being streamed anywhere (many are not; plenty are) and ended up losing my viewing window. That necessitated messaging friend and wine/film guru Dan Polsby, who resourcefully suggested (not knowing exactly what streaming services I have) that Kanopy has two easy ones to start: “Like Father, Like Son for masterpiece drama; 13 Assassins for masterpiece action.”

Then he said, “If I tell you to watch Ozu will you?”

Here’s where my lack of actual Japanese filmmaking knowledge kicked in, as I drew a blank and wondered if he mistyped a word or if “Ozu” was some sub genre, instead of being director Yasujirō Ozu, whose 1953 “Tokyo Story” (which is streaming on multiple platforms) is considered a renowned masterpiece.

Good to know.

Also a fine place to start for “Japanuary,” I thought.

(Previously I was going to opt into a modern Japanese film or rewatch a ton of Miyazaki movies to cheat-code my way to 10 films, but watching an old black and white film less than a decade removed from WWII seemed more in the Letterboxd spirit).

This is less review than reflection, obviously, and there are numerous pieces you can likely find online about Ozu’s directing style in the film and what he achieved, but like any great film, “Tokyo Story” connected on a personal level and separately packed a much larger punch than it appeared to be gearing up to deliver.

Mood.

Watching with Viewing Partner KB, conveniently sick on her vacation to Portland with me, Ozu’s intent in depicting how modernity in early post-war Japan was changing the fabric of families somehow circled around in the ether of my room and had an unexpected landing spot on my mind, 72 years after it was made.

There is a magisterial simplicity to the premise and slow-moving execution of “Tokyo Story.”

An elderly couple, Shūkichi and Tomi, have five grown children. One has died in the war and one, the youngest, Kyōko, a school teacher, lives with them in Onomichi, a Japanese town roughly a day and a half by train from Tokyo, where the eldest son, Kōichi, and eldest daughter, Shige, both live. Also living in Tokyo is Noriko, their widowed daughter-in-law.

Tokyo seems forever far away (to everyone) so there hasn’t been any visiting in either direction for years, since the eldest kids left. Another son, Keizō, lives in Osaka, which is along the way, but he’s made no effort to visit his parents either.

You can imagine the generational weight here, particularly in tradition-rich Japan, and how that shifts as the country rebuilds and children become adults and move away.

Essentially, “Tokyo Story” is about Shūkichi and Tomi just wanting to see their kids, but none of them (except Kyōko, who stayed behind) has any time for them. It’s Noriko, the widowed daughter-in-law, left to live a hardscrabble life, who makes time for the retired couple and treats them with kindness. Kōichi and Shige can’t be bothered and forever out of touch Keizō seems so disconnected he’s not even a priority.

Watching, it was always important to put an emphasis on the mores of Japan and how the film centered itself in 1953, with just enough time removed from the war for everyone to want to move on with their lives, and what that means. But “Tokyo Story” is forever relevant because all parents struggle with wanting (and needing) time with their children who don’t need (and often don’t want) to reciprocate as they have their own lives to live.

I’m not sure you can say “Tokyo Story” has many, if any, intentional laughs but they were had while watching. Because 72 years later what has changed between parents and children? Kōichi, a doctor, and Shige, a hairdresser, seem annoyed at having to deal with their parents coming to Tokyo (the self-centered Shige especially). As the film unfolds, it also confronts how parents seem perpetually let down by their kids (chosen careers, easily overwhelmed, selfish, lacking fortitude, etc.) while simultaneously trying to be understanding about changing times and how hard it is for those grown kids to make their way in a difficult world.

Again, this is 72 years ago and fits nearly seamlessly in a post-pandemic, screen-addicted, anxiety-riddled, “soft” world of emerging young adults. The themes are universal. And while Ozu’s slow pacing is an element that takes some getting used to in 2025, the rewards of patience catch you and leave their emotional mark.

This is a film where you can see the linear line it’s on and the inevitability of regret that’s bound to come to the adult children of Shūkichi and Tomi if something happens, which of course it does.

With Viewing Partner KB and I both having lost family members last year and both having young adults in the process of marking their paths in the world — not to mention siblings who lined up, both darkly and humorously close to those portrayed in the film — “Tokyo Story” held some unexpected surprises for us.

Mostly though, we just wanted to jump into the “Japanuary” spirit, to watch a movie and feel the culture of it, to appreciate art in bleak times.

It doesn’t have to be “Tokyo Story,” of course, but head on over to Letterboxd or just find some inspiration of your own for a Japanese film and maybe you can keep watching into February as well — 10 doesn’t seem that hard at all.