Little House, The

Released by: Twilight Time
Released on: August 11, 2015
Directed by: Yoji Yamada
Cast: Chieko Baishí´, Haru Kuroki, Takako Matsu, Hidetaka Yoshioka, Takatarí´ Kataoka, Satoshi Tsumabuki, Satoshi Akiyama
Year: 2014
Purchase From Screen Archives

The Movie:

Taki Nunomiya (Chieko Baishí´) tells her great-nephew Takeshi Arai (Satoshi Tsumabuki) of her life as a maid in the years leading up to and including World War II. As a girl, she had served in the little house of the Hirai family—husband Masaki (Takatarí´ Kataoka), wife Tokiko (Takako Matsu), and son Ryoichi (Satoshi Akiyama). At first, young Taki's (Haru Kuroki) days are spent nursing Ryoichi, whose health has been compromised by polio. But when a young artist, Masaharu Itakura (Hidetaka Yoshioka), comes to work at Masaki's toy company, the house is thrown into silent turmoil. Realizing that they share a love of music, Tokiko and Masaharu spend a great deal of time together while Tokiko's husband is away at the office, and soon they are engaged in an extramarital affair that has friends and neighbors talking. Taki finds herself in a compromising position, having to do as her mistress instructs to arrange liaisons and to hide the affair from others, a position made all the more difficult by Taki's own unrequited feelings for Masaharu.

While several film critics have been quick to compare The Little House (known in its native Japan as Chiisai ouchi) to the movie adaptation of Amy Tan's The Joy Luck Club (which covered much the same ground but from a Chinese perspective), it bears a closer resemblance to the work of Kazuo Ishiguro, in particular the Ismail Merchant/James Ivory film adaptation of The Remains of the Day (1993). Both works feature a central story told in flashbacks, and both present the dichotomy between the lower and middle/lower and higher classes. And, as with The Remains of the Day, The Little House is based on an award-winning novel. But whereas Ishiguro's intent is to dissect the ways in which the classes are kept apart, despite dwelling mere feet from each other, by social and economic distinctions, director Yoji Yamada uses The Little House to paint an intimate portrait of a love triangle in which one of the participants isn't really a participant at all; she's merely a silent observer, her status as lowly housekeeper making her invisible to everyone but the boy to whom she has become a de facto parent.

What may be more interesting than the separation between maid and mistress is the fact that Yamada chooses to shoot the affair so injudiciously. Tokiko's extramarital indiscretion is neither condemned nor praised; it is merely the incident that informs and defines the remainder of Taki's life. This is, after all, the demure and humble Taki's story, despite the fact that she acts as little more than a prop, a column of support to a clan that takes little notice of her as a human being. She is as much a belonging as the Western-style house on the outskirts of Tokyo that the Harais call home. And Haru Kuroki, offering a performance every bit as nuanced as Anthony Hopkins's butler Mr. Stevens in The Remains of the Day, owns the film from start to finish. In fact, she was awarded the Silver Bear for Best Actress at the 64th Berlin International Film Festival, where the film was also in competition for the Golden Bear (it lost to Black Coal, Thin Ice, 2014).

Video/Audio/Extras:

The Little House makes its U.S. home video debut courtesy of Twilight Time, who has placed the film on Blu in 1080p high definition with an MPEG-4 AVC encode. The film is presented in its original theatrical aspect ratio of 1.85:1. As with most TT releases, the film bears a striking amount of detail, particularly in clothes and facial close-ups, which perfectly suits Yamada's gorgeous imagery. Take, for example, Masaharu Itakura's first appearance, framed at the top of the stairs leading to the little house, a breeze whipping the foliage around him. It's an amazing image, where colors are generally—and very purposefully—subdued (the little house notwithstanding) in favor of more natural and earthy hues. And it's images like this one that provide the best selling point for seeing The Little House on Blu. In addition, there's no crush, and grain is kept to a minimum.

The Blu-ray utilizes a lossless DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 mix in the film's original Japanese language. It's a nice aural package, with sound effects (most of which are subtle; this is a quiet domestic drama, not a Marvel superhero flick) that are nicely rendered. Dialogue is rightfully given priority, and optional English subtitles are included. It should be noted that Joe Hisaishi's beautiful, rousing score has also been given its own separate track in DTS-HD MA 5.1.

Extras include an original theatrical trailer (1:02) and a series of teasers (1:38), none of which have optional English subtitles. On a positive note, however, liner notes are provided by film historian Julie Kirgo in an eight-page insert. As is typical of Kirgo, the notes are well-researched and insightful, particularly Kirgo's assertion as to why Taki does what she does at the conclusion of the final flashback. And finally, there's a catalogue of TT titles currently available on DVD and Blu-ray. The titles are listed by year beginning with 2011.

The Final Word:

The Little House is an extraordinary picture, a muted melodrama from one of Japan's—and the world's—master filmmakers. It's beautifully restrained, drawing subtly upon history and politics to paint a realistic backdrop to its tale of a servant who watches as her mistress begins an affair with the man she herself loves, threatening the tranquility of their little house as war with the United States looms. Twilight Time's Blu-ray is a flawless presentation of the film in both its visual and aural aspects, perfect for connoisseurs of modern Asian cinema.

Click on the images below for full sized Blu-ray screen caps!