小津的默片之一，虽然是默片，但看的时候却不觉得沉闷，而且是在1个半小时的时间内，感到了小津电影中少有的诙谐幽默和童真。这个2兄弟的童年生活总让人想起小时候，看到有些镜头也会会心一笑，童年的打架，赌气，逃学，天真，狡黠……也有童年的认真，观察，思考，从某一角度折射出了成人世界的平庸，无奈，虚伪等。

先后看了沟口健二的《西鹤一代女》和小津的默片《我出生了，但》。

《西鹤一代女》竹林狂奔一段着实惊艳逼人，田中绢代42岁演少女，下巴上已有了小赘肉，禁不起细看了，不过身段举止还是超赞。片子很闷，看苦逼女主如风中蓬草流转，只能徒呼奈何。

《我出生了，但》还是以温情和残忍两记重拳，让我中招。

这是一本留给成人的回忆相册。看得又好笑又心酸。

一郎帅帅的，好酷；次郎最好笑，鼻涕糊瞎的，爱挠自己的裤裆，裤衩总是露出来，总是模仿哥哥，馋嘴胆小，却也装酷，去装权威，去反抗权威。

好多个场景有小孩哭，真好玩，一律是平举双肩，手背捂住眼睛~~

那个背后贴着“正在腹泻，不要给他吃东西”的小屁孩，颠颠地跟着大孩子转，也好玩极了。

父亲送儿子上学，分开的路口立一个小木桩，写的是“第一亲切产婆”，在片子里出现了两次。看着也好玩。



好玩是好玩，孩子世界和成人一样，有着残忍的生存法则。

可最残忍的是，父亲形象的崩塌，一个小人物，点头哈腰，阿谀奉承过日子，没想到自己的儿子会指着自己问难：

“你让我们有出息，自己却一点出息也没有~”

“因为有钱，所以就是个大人物吗……”

“你是一个弱虫，一个懦夫……”

儿子的质问让人心惊，也让人觉得痛快。

最后，儿子们脸上挂着眼泪，睡着了。

父亲郁闷地喝起酒来。然后，在儿子的房间里，父亲蹲在地上，拄着下巴，超级温情地看两位熟睡的儿子，说——

“我放弃了，因为这些问题将困扰他们一生。”

“他们以后会走上像我走过的路吗？”

“别成为一个以溜须拍马换取生活质量的人。”

真超超感人的画面啊~~父亲那一笑会让所有观众都原谅了他，体谅了他。

而结局~~还是那么小残忍~~生活还在继续~~如此而已。



背景音乐是欢快的钢琴，是小津所喜爱的“像天朗气清一样爽快的音乐”。小津能让所有必然的崩塌和无奈的辗转中，都呈现天朗气清的一番意蕴。佛家所说的对无常的郑重，就是这个吧。

English Title: I Was Born, But...
Original Title: Otona no miru ehon - Umarete wa mita keredo
Year: 1932
Country: Japan
Language: Japanese
Genre: Comedy, Drama
Director: Yasujirô Ozu
Writers:
Akira Fushimi
Yasujirô Ozu
Geibei Ibushiya
Music: Donald Sosin
Cinematography: Hideo Shigehara
Cast:
Tomio Aoki
Hideo Sugawara
Tatsuo Saitô
Mitsuko Yoshikawa
Zentaro Iijima
Seiichi Katô
Shôichi Kofujita
Seiji Nishimura
Takeshi Sakamoto
Chishû Ryû
Rating: 7.3/10




This Ozu’s early silent film was made when he was only 29, at a formative age, he has already acquired a keen eye on sieving the callous doctrine of the society’s pecuniary pecking order through the lens of two kids’ growing dismay and perplex.

Two school-age brothers Ryoichi (Sugawara) and Keiji (Aoki) are moving to suburbs with their parents, a shrewd move of their father Yoshi (Saitô, a virtuoso player jostle between primness and clownishness) to hobnob with his boss Iwasaki (Sakamoto). With a good salary, they can afford a better life here, but the boys have some difficulty to find their feet, especially when they are picked on by school bullies, led by a bigger kid (Iijima), they play truant and laze around, ask an older delivery boy (Kofujita) to forge teacher’s signature, all child’s play and they would be reprimanded by Yoshi when the lid is blown off. Nevertheless, Ozu applies a very gentle touch and a ludic attention in limning the boys’ daily expediency to tackle with their problems (there are not enough sparrow’s eggs in the world to beat their bully), and eventually the scale would be tipped when they are wise enough to crack the knack of how to succeed in becoming an alpha dog, even Taro (Katô), Iwasaki’s son, has to pay deference to the boys’ whims. (a children’s game but so rapier-like in its connotation linked to the power struggle in the adult world.)

Then comes a blow, during a friends-gathering in Iwasaki’s place, where films of daily vignettes are screened, a galling discovery would inflame the brothers’ chutzpah to brazenly question their father’s authority, “are you a successful person?”, “why can’t you be successful?”, it is a blow to the brothers’ unwitting but vaunted ego, which certainly doesn’t tally with their young age, and is a corollary of a society spurred and indoctrinated by sheer competition and capitalism, even for kids, they are possessed with the idea of supremacy, power and hubris, which outstrips the parameter of childish mischief. In retrospect, the film grants us a gander into the frame-of-mind of a pre-WWII Japan, but not prescient enough to pinpoint a more perspicacious outlook, instead, an anodyne finale betrays Ozu’s own perspective at that time.

The children in the film are well-trained scamps, endearing to watch, especially Tomio Aoki as the younger brother, transforms the disadvantage of his less photogenic looks into something archly expressive with all the gurning, imitating and feigning, a farceur is in the making. A minor grouch to Donald Sosin’s persistent attendant score, a relentless cascade of tunefulness can certainly overstay its welcome. Anyhow, a lesser comedy branded with Ozu’s name is still worth visiting, not the least for the sake of his masterful tutelage and coordination of his exuberant pupils in front of the camera.

comparison point: Ozu’s EARLY SUMMER (1951) 8.6/10

AlthoughIWas Born, But…(Yasujiro Ozu, 1932) was one of the early works by Ozu, he demonstrates an exceptional aptitude on embodying the callous power dynamics within Japanese working-class structure through the lens of two kids’ growing dismay and perplexity. The film, through a parallel narrative of the father Yoshii (Tatsuo Saito) in work and his children Ryoichi (Hideo Sugawara) and Keiji (Tomio Aoki) in school, presents a keen comparison of the power dynamics of these characters when dealing with convoluted interpersonal relationships.

I Was Born, But…revolves around the notion of power. For salarymen like Yoshii, all the powers concentrate on the hands of the Iwasaki (Takeshi Sakamoto), the big executive in charge of the firm. In order to receive a good salary, and afford a better life for the family, Yoshii racks his mind to hobnob with his boss. Regardless of the physical locations, he would approach Iwasaki in an adulatory manner whenever he has a chance, to not only physically, but mentally live near the boss. Knowing Iwasaki’s passion for film, Yoshii even participates in Iwasaki’s filming of daily vignettes to cater for his interest, which will later trigger a galling incidence, provoking a series of family dramas. While Ozu revealed a bleak image of underlying hierarchies in the adult world and the hypocritical social fabric embedded in the system, he presented a rather humorous and frisky plot via the scope of the neighborhood children, paralleling with the salaryman script. Unlike the adult world brimming with intrigues and office politics, for children, the advent of power lies in physical strength. New to the neighborhood, Ryoichi and Keiji struggle to blend in the new environment, especially when they are intimidated by school bullies, led by a bigger kid (Zentaro Iijima). Luckily, they are wise enough to exploit the physical power of the older delivery boy (Shoichi Kofujita), and eventually to supersede the bigger kid as the most dominant figures in the neighborhood. Even Taro (Katô), Iwasaki’s son, has to pay deference to the boys’ incantation. (a game often played among the children) In the sequence in which the kids witness Yoshii accompanying Iwasaki back home, we finally see these two storylines interweave. Ashamed of the fact that Taro’s father is their father’s boss, Ryoichi and Keiji once again cast the incantation on Toro, hoping to regain at least part of their supremacy. However, Yoshii intervenes and halts the game forthwith, helping Taro gets up from the ground as if he is treating his boss at work at the same time reproaching his sons’ impropriety. Of course, the twins would not understand why their father, an undisputed hero figure in their opinion, would treat Taro in such an obsequious manner. Nevertheless, Father’s reprimand is a blow to the brothers’ imaginary fantasy, offering them a snippet of the how things should work in the reality. The scene puts the two independent worlds under the same frame, revealing adult society’s boot-licking conducts as oppose to children’s ingenuous power ideology and imparting them an imperative lesson about the rigid stratification of the society for the first time.

Ozu's deft camera movements usage are inalienable from narrative functions achieved inIWas Born, But.Nonetheless, the most salient visual style ought to be his utilization of camera movements as a medium to navigate between the two major storylines. Reminiscent of Fritz Lang’s employment of sound as a cue to cut between different spaces inM,(Fritz Lang, 1931), Ozu harnessed the tracking of the camera to establish a relationship between two shots regardless of the discontinuous spaces. In the playground/office scene, a sequence of students marching down the playground is cut to the father’s office smoothly as the camera tracks from left to right. The playful camera movement proffers a sense of verisimilitude as audiences mentally follow the camera motion, navigating between the two settings despite the lack of temporal unity. The juxtaposition of irrelevant sequences also puts two drastically different worlds (children and adults) in compare and contrast with each other, soliciting viewers’ examination of the ulterior motifs behind the image. On the playground, the bigger kid got excoriated by the teacher for not following instructions like other students do. In a cut to the next sequence, the camera, however, now tracking from left to right, capturing an associate who meant to concentrate on work, and shifts right forthwith as he could not resist the soporific working environment and began to yawn like anyone else. These nuances in each character’s synchronous motions allude to the social conformity which everyone ought to obey, epitomizing the foreboding transition from carefree children to institutionalized worker for each person living in the society surrounded by sheer competition.

Although taking immense amounts of inspiration from classical Hollywood comedy, Ozu repeatedly violated the Hollywood continuity editing principle. Instead filming the dialogue scene in the traditional over-the-shoulder method, Ozu framed his dialogue scene more often in a 360-degree style, constantly switching camera positions, proffering a discordant but holistic scene. In the film’s final scene, after understanding the father’s identity and accepting the reality of the life, the two brothers admitted Taro’s father is indeed better. After reconciliation, a straight-on medium long shot shows that the brothers again casting incantation on Taro. In the next shot, however, the camera has already moved behind Ryoichi’s feet, as we observe Taro’s “death” on the ground. At the moment that Ryoichi and Keiji cast the second “revival” incantation in the subsequent shot, the camera has completely switched to the opposite point of view that the initial shot is at, revealing not only the twin brothers but also the train rail barrier.

People would often associate discontinuity film production such as 360-degree system, uncanny camera positions, and playful editing with a sense of distance and detachment because of the diminishing effect on the temporal unity across the narrative. But for Ozu, the combination of these techniques results the opposite, presenting a self-aware and emotionally-intense everyday scenario which builds upon a direct conversation with the audience. The usage of these cinematic techniques continues to be an inextricable part of Ozu’s directing language through his entire film career, embodying his philosophy of straddling the realm of subjectivity and objectivity, and offering contemplative cinemas to viewers not only to realize the sadness and melancholy about the reality of life but to retrospect their own experiences.

电影上映于1932年。正是日本持续50年战争的时期前段。电影里很多地方都有映射出这一点，比如教室里的“爆弹三勇士”的字牌，亦或是当父亲问到孩子将来的梦想，而孩子回答“大将军”等，都体现出在当时的年代，武士是在日本除了帝皇的最高等级。而也正因为这样的一个背景，让小津安二郎原本想要拍摄的喜剧，到最后变成了一部令人反思的颇为伤感的作品。
电影的开始讲述了孩子们和父亲搬到了一个新的地方。在这里，所有的一切都是崭新的。房子，土地，人群。从电影里我们看到，主人公一家住在火车铁轨旁，而在当时，火车时是最高的城市化象征；它象征着时代的进步，也映射出主人公一家地位等级的提升。
孩子们刚刚到了新环境，不免被人欺负。但他们不甘心，于是找到了卖酒的男人，借着母亲向男人买了酒，让男人帮他们出了口气，教训了一下那个平日总是欺负他们的另一个小孩。这时，当他们指着又一个坐着的小男孩要求同样也要教训他一下时，卖酒男人说，“他不行。他的父母买的酒比你家的多。”这时，等级地位就很明显地体现出来了。
而为什么说这是两个平行的世界呢？因为这样一帮小孩子的群体，有大有小，有强有弱，在成人的世界中，亦是同样如此。在小孩们父亲的公司里，我们很明显地看到了地位的划分，这点在之后的大家聚在一起观看的电影里，更是表达地十分清晰。
而就在小孩子与大人一同观赏的这部电影中，两个已经变成小霸王的孩子却看到了自己一直引以为傲的父亲的窘状。父亲为了取悦上司而做着各种鬼脸，这样的“上司给指令，父亲便遵从”的场景不免让两个孩子也想到了现实生活中那些处于下等地位只懂得听从命令的小孩们。尽管一同观看电影的大人与小孩口中所说的关于父亲的“好笑”或许真的是发自内心的仅仅感到好笑而已，但在这两个小孩的眼里，此时每个人的言论与笑容都化为了一把利剑，刺伤了他们年幼的自尊心。音乐此时也从欢快的节奏变得有些沉闷。两个小孩回到家后闷闷不乐，开始指责父亲为什么要阿谀奉承，为什么要低声下气。孩子们不服气，认为父亲很丢人，宁愿父亲不去挣钱，也不要为了他们的生计而降低自己的地位。
于是就有了孩子们的绝食战争；同时，也出现了影片中最为令人难过且让人充满无力感的镜头：父亲和母亲看着熟睡中的孩子们，说着，希望他们以后不要过着和我们一样的生活。
而后的早晨，孩子们和父亲一同坐在院子中，面对着铁轨，手里拿着饭团，终于理解了父亲的艰难。这也就出现了我题目中所提到的”互教互懂“的观点：父亲看到上级却碍于孩子在身旁没有上前打招呼，直到孩子们提醒，他才上前。在这里我们看到，父亲的世界教会了孩子关于现实中为了生存所必须存在的等级制度，而这一镜头却让我们感受到成人也同样从孩子们的世界里学习着生存之道。
小津安二郎说这本是一部喜剧，最后却拍成了悲剧。而在我看来，他却给了这部电影一个非常好的结尾。孩子们一如既往地做着”打手势你趴下“的游戏，仿佛昨日意识到的等级制度今日在他们的世界中已不复存在。这定是一门在他们的成长道路上的重要的一课，但这门课所映射的关于社会的现实性，在他们的这个年纪，毕竟还是抵不过孩子们纯真的本性。
当然也有人说这部电影，在当时的环境背景下拍摄出来，本就是个悲剧。不管孩子们今后如何努力，面对战争的压力，都无法从这样的已经定型的社会地位逃脱出来。这也是二战为人们带来的悲哀。

这部片子既滑稽又辛辣，尤其是最后的高潮，父子吵架之后，父亲问母亲，他们是否会过上像我们一样悲伤的生活？

这部片子在现在很应景，迎合了当下许多人不想生孩子的想法。假如生下来的孩子仍然会像父母一样当打工人，对老板笑脸相迎，做着自己不喜欢的事情，碌碌无为的过完慌乱的一生，那又有什么意义？

像在玩游戏一样，我们的主控角色是两个孩子。在这个视角里，观众可以感受孩子的纯净，幼稚。但是作为心智成熟的成年人，我们也可以理解父亲的所做所为。世界上的大多数人，都只会默默无闻的过完一生。

影片的前部分着重塑造了孩子们之间的联系：交战双方的孩子各自找着更strong的人来征服对方、神秘的让Taro躺下的手势魔法、掏鸟蛋当电影入场券等等。Taro这个孩子的角色随着剧情的推进逐渐立体了起来。后来上学的片段揭示了虽然他不strong，但是他的爸爸是老板。可见孩子的世界就像是成年世界的幼稚翻版，是否strong是评判孩子在孩子世界里的地位的重要指标，strong的孩子可以操纵不那么strong的孩子。而在成人世界里，这个指标就说钱了。

看电影这一段终于把孩子的世界和成人世界连接了起来，也引发了最终的矛盾。看电影之前，strong的孩子们都只能把鸟蛋给Taro才能得到电影的入场券，现在想来，这其实是一种暗示。看电影这个情节将父亲这个角色推向了矛盾的顶点。在孩子的世界里，他是严厉的父亲，a important somebody（我没有找到中文字幕，所以看的是英文的字幕。。），在成人世界里，他是老板的舔狗。这是非常不同的自我表露，却在这个交错的世界里重合在一起了，孩子们看到了成人世界里的未曾设想的父亲，他的形象分崩离析了。在这个片段里，父亲没有回头看两个孩子，也许是不敢看吧。这一段出现了多个父亲背影的镜头，我们期待父亲会回过头来，期待他的表情，反应，可是他自始至终没有回头。

另外，长子长得好像陈冠希。