Café Lumière (Japan, 2003)

In a residential Tokyo neighborhood, Yoko, a young freelance writer defies her strongly traditional parents with news that she is pregnant and has no desire to marry the father. She calmly accepts this reality and stoically deals with the worried reactions of her family. In an effort to alleviate her loneliness, she befriends the owner of a second-hand bookstore. He falls in love with her, but keeps his feelings silent. Gradually, Yoko begins to re-evaluate everything in her life in this meditative masterpiece of young urban solitude.

Hou Hsiao-hsien pays homage to one of the greatest film makers in Japanese history, Yasujiro Ozu, who gave us such classics as Tokyo Story (1953) and Floating Weeds (1959). If you aren't familiar with Ozu's work, you won't spot the film style that director Hou is going for, but let me tell you, he really nailed it. Often the camera is placed at low height, and rarely does it move. Some of my favorite scenes is the static shots of the city districts where the trains pass each other and continues on their way into dark tunnels below the cramped buildings, really beautiful in a certain way, and so alike Ozu's way of shooting buildings or other objects in his transitions between scenes. 

All this camera goodness is really just the tip of the iceberg for me, because in front of the lens we have a subtle, fantastic drama. Tadanobu Asano (Ichi the Killer) plays one of the main roles, a man who goes around recording the sounds of trains. Yes, really. I can't recommend this film enough, so if you're in the mood for a film that takes it time, watch this meditative and lovely movie now.

Trains are a big part of Café Lumière, in a strangely subduing kind of way.

Genre: Drama