Tag Archives: Isao Masaka

One Wonderful Sunday (Akira Kurosawa, 1947)

A lovely film that makes me think of the extent to which working people have been evacuated from cinema. In this one, two young people in a Tokyo, occupied, in ruins, and with black marketeers putting prices out of reach, sweethearts since before the war meet every Sunday. We encounter Yuzo (Isao Masaka) embarrassedly picking up a cigarette butt on the street while he waits for Masako (Chieko Nakakita) to arrive in the streetcar. He’s only got ten yen; she’s got 25. But he says a man who’s a man doesn’t take a woman’s money. So how will they spend the day? They see an advertisement for a cheap home they can never afford and go visit it. They play baseball with a bunch of kids. They go to the zoo. They go visit a nightclub run by one of his old army friends but his clothes are so threadbare he refuses to see him and insults him with money instead. They meet a homeless kid whose got more money than they do. They go to a cheap concert, Schubert’s Unfunished Symphony, put on for the masses, only to find that touts have bought up all the cheap tickets and are re-selling them for a higher price. He protests but they beat him up. It’s hard living up to Yuzo’s ideals of masculinity when they can’t even afford a cheap room in which to start married life much less buy a home or start a business. He’s despondent throughout, she tries to cheer him up. He’s also horny throughout, trying to steaL kisses here and there, coercing her into the room he shares with his friend, who’s away. He tries to force himself on her and when she won’t, he tries to jerk off on the sink. He finds it hard not to go into crime. He’s making it hard for her to remain decent. They almost break up. She returns to the room, in tears, if sex is what it takes for them to continue as a couple. But he loves her, recovers his own decency, and they continue with their day, dreaming of playing Schubert and of starting their own café at some point. Near the end there’s an extraordinary sequence where Masako addresses the camera directly: ‘Ladies and gentlemen a round of applause. Please find it in your heart to cheer him on. There are so many poor lovers in the world. Please give us all a big hand. We’re freezing in the cold winds of this world. Do it for poor young lovers everywhere. Please cheer us on. Help us dream beautiful dreams. Please a round of applause.’ It breaks the fourth wall, appealing directly to the audience and is extraordinary. A very moving, highly cinematic work that beautifully incorporates the theatrical. Griffith, Capra, and Italian neo-realism are cited as references but what it makes me think of is Borzage, the whimsy, the poetry, the delicacy of feeling and heightened romanticism. I found it beautiful.

The direct address clip:

José Arroyo