Still Walking (2008)

Hirokazu Kore-eda is the 21st century’s response to the great Japanese director: Yasujiro Ozu, who is known for his highly idiosyncratic style in movies like: Tokyo Story (1953) and Late Spring (1949).

Kore-eda’s quiet, family inspired, humanistic stories are more than a worthy successor to Ozu’s trenchant family commentaries. However, stylistically, the two of them are rather different. Kore-eda is a much more versatile filmmaker, making use of a wider array of filmmaking techniques than Ozu ever considered. Kore-eda is also a much more optimistic filmmaker which is separates him from Ozu’s quiet cynicism.

Still Walking (2008) is Kore-eda’s most Ozu like feature. It’s motionless camera work and idyllic transitional shots are reminiscent of Ozu. But while Ozu examined fraught marriages and degrading family dynamics, the family and relationships in Still Walking are largely the same by the end. The only thing that changes is the audience’s understanding of their rituals, dynamics and the silent grudges held against each other and the past.

Still Walking is a film that slowly descends into a tranquil melancholy. The family it depicts, gathers every year for, what at first seems like a joyful gathering, but that slowly reveals its true quietly masochistic ritual. And none of it is played or melodrama or conflict. Still Walking is about getting to know a family, and it has it’s best moments when we learn more but are still denied the whole truth. The joy of watching comes from the slow burn reveal of information. Each character is incredibly well defined, to the point where this family feels like one of the most realistic ever put on screen.

The filmmaking on display here proves Kore-eda is one of the best working today. His recent Palm d’Or winner: Shoplifters (2018) is another example of his simple humanistic style. The first forty minutes or so of Still Walking rises to levels above those that Ozu might’ve ever reached. His geometric shots, sequences of familial ritual and the placid guitar score focuses the audience on the activities of the Yokohama family.

The film does, unfortunately, suffer from a slow second act, it’s pacing could’ve picked up slightly. After the hour mark, the audience’s knowledge of the family has hit its peak and with no new critical information coming, the scenes drag on.

However, the slump odes lead to an engaging ending. And I realized that I didn’t want my time with this family to end. In hindsight, the end of the second act was a charming part of the film that, despite dragging a bit, is ultimately quite enjoyable. Over the course of the film you’ve grown to understand and love these characters and that is perhaps the film’s greatest achievement.

Beyond that, the gorgeous cinematography is what really sells the realism in the film. The music fits nicely over the gentle editing and when all the elements combine, the film produces some of the most singularly beautiful moments in all of cinema. It’s in these little moments that observe the simple actions of everyday life that make the movie a perfect encapsulation of family life.