I Was Born But...(Then I Got Put Into a Hierarchy) (Kai Englisch)
For me, one of the most interesting aspects of the movie I Was Born But was the theme of a power hierarchy. The film's study into little boys' obsessions with power and hierarchies reminds me of my own childhood playing in the backyard. Power and the reality of who had it was always a fact that everyone as aware of. As one grows up, power hierarchies still remain. But as Ozu reminds us, they change. But what is the nature of a hierarchy? Can they be opted into, or do they represent an a priori fact of life? How are they formed? Do the hierarchies of children and adults differ meaningfully? And, what does Ozu himself think about them?
The film explores the nature of hierarchies, looking at them primarily through the eyes of the two young boys. But in doing so, the plot reveals their participation in a number of hierarchies, involuntarily thrust upon them. They get their toy taken away and are threatened by Kamekichi, so they skip school to avoid him and the gang. But their playing hooky results in a teacher coming to talk to their dad, who notifies him that they haven't been participating in their lessons. He says he will give them a good talking to. When he arrives home, he becomes very angry, and tells them that they must get good grades to become "excellent" in life.
We can see how each of these hierarchies layers on. They must participate in their "playmate" hierarchy and play, because they must go to school, and that's where their agemates are. They must go to school-the "academic hierarchy," because their father demands it of them, to achieve success in life. They listen to their father because he is the apex of the "family hierarchy," and he can physically punish them if he wants. Thus, by virtue of being born, Ozu shows us how we are ensnared in a series of involuntary hierarchies that each demand participation in subsequent ones.
To me, it seems like the idea Ozu puts forth is that the nature of a hierarchy is power. Power is the thing that compels. It is compelling because it provokes us, at our most base level, to do things. It is power that compels Kennosuke to move his family to his bosses' neighborhood, to curry favor with his boss, the powerful one. He wants to provide a good life for his family, and decides to move them to a place with good schools and a good chance for him to suck up to his boss, the person who can give him what he wants. The irony is not lost here however, that in doing so he also leads his children to unfortunate circumstances. It is power that Taro wields over Kamekichi, when he successfully tells him to take Keiji's toy and bread. It is power that causes Kamekichi to take these from Keiji successfully. It is this same power that causes the boys to fall in mock death at the all powerful force-choke-esque hand. That is to say, that there is an invisible force that comepls both children and adults to do things that in some genuine sense they don't want to do. Does Kennosuke really like his boss that much? Does Kamekichi really want to obey Taro's orders and take the toys and bread (well, perhaps yes on this one). Does Keiji wnat to hand over his toys? Do the boys who fall in death really want to be pushed to the ground? It seems that this "hand" of force never truly leaves us. Why not? This is a gesture that demands submission only because of the implied threat of an ass-kicking behind it (as evidenced in the gesture being used by the two brothers after getting the help of their larger neighbor who kicks Kamekichi's ass).
If Ass-Kicking is a stand in for negative consequences, Kennosuke can get his ass kicked because he can get fired, or perhaps more to the point, he can get passed over for another promotion, dooming him to a life of mid-level dissatisfaction. Kamekichi can get his ass-kicked by the older friend of the two boys. the two boys can get whooped by both of the above.
This gives us a window into how hierarchies are formed. They are ruled by those who can dole out ass-kickings. Taro's father can fire or hire people. Taro can choose to not invite people to movie night, or whatever other thing money can buy that compels little boys. Kamekichi can punch people. Kennosuke can spank his children.
One thing will always be certain, that power is real. Furthermore, power is wielded by those who can. Someone once said that "the only things guaranteed in life are death and taxes," to which Ozu might add "and the threat of a good ass-kicking."
Hierarchies are real because Power is real because Ass-Kickings are real.
In other words, the ass-kicked will always bow to the ass-kickers. Of course we do not always play the same role within the exchange, but the metaphor seems apt. Those who possess the ability to mete out consequences will always have the subordination of the other. But this begs the question, who or what decides who has the power to dole out Ass-Kickings? Why them? Is it fair? It seems that as we age, these become more and more abstract, but the threat remains.
Keiji utters a great line at some point to the effect of "why go to school if I'm just going to grow up to work for a guy like Taro? I'm stronger and smarter than him!"
In looking at these hierarchies, it seems like Ozu is asking us to examine our own feelings about hierarchies. With content of the film based on the playground and the workplace, Ozu asks us to look again at these locations that are so central to certain time periods of our lives. For me, this strikes a nerve of supreme indignation. In other words, if we look at this world through Keiji's eyes, why try and participate in a hierarchy that does not even reward merit? Fighting is a very honest meritocracy. Be a good fighter, or befriend one, climb to the top. Your ability to fight will not lie to you: either you can or you can't. But what kind of a twisted world is it in which the stupider, weaker Taro orders me around, makes a fool out of me, while I have to suck up to him? That seems to me to be an untenable position.
I think this leads us to the question of what Ozu thinks about hierarchies, or what he is trying to convey to us. I think this hinges on the scene after the home movie was shown, because I think the father represents someone who has made his peace in a certain way with his "mediocre" life. That is to say, what does Ozu think about the life of the father? I'm thinking of two ways to read this: either as a tragedy, the other as a deconstruction of a meaningful life. Although a lot of people saw it as a tragedy, I think it's hard to tell because of the ambiguity of how the father feels about his own life. His reactions, like those of Shukichi and Tomi in Tokyo Story are hard to discern, masked behind a veil of a nondescript smile. Does it hide a deep sadness? Or perhaps, does he have something figured out that his children have not yet caught on to? This seems to me to be very important, because the I think how the father feels about his own life reveals how Ozu might feel about the father as a collection of ideas. What is Ozu trying to tell us about a life in which one fails to ascend the hierarchy? What do you think?
This is a wonderful piece. Obviously another ten pages could easily emerge from pursuing all your questions and exploring more fully all the interlocked hierarchies. One element is the father's need to feed and protect his family. This need requires strength, but the strength involves the fortitude to submit. If he had no kids he might not have to submit. Thus the parents are forced into a paradox of strength that is also weakness.
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