Humanity and Paper Balloons

1937, a wonderful movie, by Sadao Yamanaka
The touching, unsentimental heart of this movie lies in a number of features. Let us though concentrate in the remarkable space of the film. Yamanaka has used a visual that I can't remember seeing before; his scenes are built around thin passageways that strech from the camera into the distance, either directly away or at a little angle. This means that there is a huge amount of depth. We have characters piled close together, allowing for wonderful expressiveness as they interact in turn. The camera is extremely still, with very long takes, allowing a neighbourhood to come to life for us, not be snatched.
Within this schema, Yamanaka still though uses, in fact uses to a great degree, the entire frame. I, again, can't think of a film where the use of non-centered compositions is less self-conscious. This is partly as a result of the depth, which naturally runs away from the usual centering (low angles helps here), and partly as a result of constant movement of the actors. The wonderful stagin, sometimes communicated in just a little rock forward or back, half a step, directs our gaze from one plane or part of the enclosed area to another. We are never stuck in one part of the frame for too long, so central balance never seems like an 'obvious' issue. On the outsides of the passageway created, the edges of the screen, we still have an active zone. People look at those in the passageway, for moments becoming themselves centres of attention. Tjis film also, in its long takes, allows characters, or rather just people, who are not a 'main' part of the action to leave the frame (obviously be these edges), or just be involved, be part of the place. This is the Bazinian dream, not achieved by depth of focus, but by the wondrous framing.
Among the movment, when stillness comes, it cuts through like the knife. Partly as, when the charcter and camera is still, the rain continues to fall, or a non-narrative passerby crosses. This is the world as a monad, enclosed, but mirroring the entire world.
Yet Yamanaka is not sweet; his narrative is hard and harsh, surprisingly so, tightly focussed on the neglected milleu, with their coarseness, nastiness, and the conditions of existence. There is no holds barred in the depiction of what they can do. And yet, this film is about humans.