Floating Weeds

An Ozu picture is a state of mind.  It’s quiet; observant; takes the time to get to know people and their place.  An Ozu picture demands attention and rewards the time and effort to get into its headspace.

I couldn’t give Floating Weeds that kind of attention.  I saw it in snippets of 30 minutes or so.  Just as I entered its meditative state, just as I tuned into its wavelength, life called me away to its demands.  This killed the viewing experience.

I perceived that the village in of the film was a hot, humid, tiny place.  I perceived that everyone knew everyone else’s secrets.  I understood who the characters were and I tracked the elements of the story.  But I didn’t feel myself in the narrative.  I couldn’t stick around long enough for the village to come alive and the characters to become real.

I’m frustrated.  The film is technically perfect, and Ozu’s unique way of staging provides much for the eye and the mind.  But I think I’ve learned my lesson.  I’ll never again try to see one of his films on my laptop as time permits.  I’ll wait for his work to play at the AFI, hire a sitter, and sit in a dark room where I can focus.

I’ll find that state of mind.