Our elders, what have they done for us and how do we repay them? They want what is best for us, and there comes a point in our lives where we eventually leave their company in order to have lives of our very own, but maybe there comes a thought that we are not ready for such events to come so quickly. Yasujiro Ozu’s Late Spring addresses this discomfort so perfectly, for inside of its setting there’s so much that still hits like all the very best of his films with intense heartbreak because we recognize a part of us inside of his characters. While not necessarily my favourite of Ozu’s work (my heart still goes out to his 1953 masterpiece Tokyo Story), it still ranks where the very best films of his own land. I remember when I first saw Late Spring and I was so overwhelmed with how it confronted what I knew I was soon to face in my life, and on subsequent revisits it only begins to hit me all the more, just as the best Ozu features have done so.