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It's uninteresting.
Just uninteresting.
5 pm. Psychologically, physically, and economically, there are those who can drink...
and those who can't. I must make eye-contact with someone who can.
Let's see...
It's not always easy.
If you invite them, some will say they can.
Some will reluctantly if you insist.
And some say not today... and hesitate. It varies.
- See you. - He's newly married 6 months.
- Working late? Konchan's again?
- I don't want to.
I would, but you always...
- Get feisty, he means.
Anyway, today I can't.
- Oh well. All alone... Guess I'll go home quietly.
Nordic tastes, Nordic smells... Nordic colors.
Uninteresting.
This is true beer color. This is the true smell of hops.
Clean and mild!
Refreshing and full-bodied.
With a non-bitter honest after-taste.
The after-taste is refreshing and...
your tongue will tingle with pleasure.
More than the first glass, the second. More than the second, the third.
The more you drink, the more you'll enjoy the delicate beer taste.
Uninteresting. It's just uninteresting.
Talking of uninteresting, lately, whatever I do is uninteresting.
Is it because I'm 36 years old? I'm spiritless.
Is it interesting? Are things interesting for you?
Well...
It's interesting. Isn't it, Kajiyama?
Is it interesting - customers always saying the same things...
Things like... "Hey, you have shadows under your eyes. Aren't you overdoing it?"
Can that be interesting?
This one's always smiling.
- Another one? - Straight up.
- You're a strange one. Wanting them stronger.
- Eburi, I'm no good. Everything is so uninteresting.
I just want to die.
But I can't quit the club. It's so uninteresting.
But I have a younger brother, so I can't die.
I have to earn more. - Another one.
- Finished already?
- I shouldn't tell you, but I got dumped.
Remember, I took Saturday off and went to Hakone? That where he told me...
...he didn't love me. Oh, I'm sorry I told you. It isn't interesting, is it?
- Interesting... not interesting... You're a strange one. Such a show-off.
- You know... I'm a black dog.
- Black dog?
- That's right. I'm a black dog.
Ready? Even my tail-isn't white. Get it? (ou mo - shirokunai)
- Even my tail isn't white? I hate stupid puns.
- You okay?
- Uninteresting. - Uninteresting?
- Things interesting for you?
- Nope. They're... not interesting. - See? Not interesting.
- Absolutely. Not interesting. - It sure the hell isn't interesting!
- Then let's go somewhere interesting. - There's no such place.
- Leave it to us. Let's go.
- Where? - Doesn't matter. Let's just drink.
- Yeah! Let's drink! - That's the spirit.
- Hey... Who are you people?
- Well then. - Have a nice day.
- I'm going. - Shochan, your lunch.
- Oh, I forgot. I'm going.
- Good morning. Was he late again last night?
- After 1 am. Yours leaves at 7:45 and is back by 6:10.
More regular than our clock. I envy you.
Still like newly weds after 6 months? - 5 months and 13 days.
- Mine came home drunk after our first week.
I let him get away with it. And for 15 years he comes home drunk once a week.
- Good morning. - Morning.
Father, you'll strain your back again.
- Hey, a 10 yen piece. - Really? He must have dropped it coming home.
Is that so?
I wonder if there are more.
- A 100 yen coin!
Hell, it's only a beer cap.
- If you piddle around, you'll be late again.
- What'll I wear? - What'll you wear? You only have 2 suits.
- So which one?
- The brown one's stained, so the navy blue.
- Handkerchief, tissues, cigarettes, matches.
- They're ready.
- Glasses, watch, wallet, train pass...
Neck tie!
- Just go wash your face. Do you plan to put on your tie, then brush your teeth?
Sato & Kawamura have already left.
- Let them go.
Where's my shirt?
- Going to eat? - No need.
That needs a button.
- Then this one will do. - Wait. I'll iron it.
- I'll be late. - Go ahead to the toilet.
- I'll go when I want. - But you'll go anyway.
- Just iron.
- You're going to wear your shirt? - Of course.
- To the toilet? - Huh?
- What about this name card? - What's this?
- It was in your suit pocket.
[Open]
[ Will call tomorrow at 3 ]
- Sorry about last night.
Thank you for agreeing when you're so busy.
- This morning when we told the editors, they're all thrilled to have a hit.
- The deadline is the 20th. You have 10 days to create a masterpiece.
- What are we talking about?
Does your magazine use beer ads...?
- Beer ads? You're joking with us.
- No I'm not joking. I just don't remember... Did I agree to something last night?
- Really? We're talking about the manuscript.
- Manuscript? - Yes.
- When we asked you to write a novel, you agreed and said to expect a masterpiece.
- I said that? - Yes you did.
- Stop. Don't make fun. - The same here.
- But I can't write a novel. I write Suntory ads. I'm no novelist!
- That's what's so interesting.
- Interesting? I don't know what I said while drunk, but...
- Even drunk you'd remember... - But I don't.
I can't handle liquor or my wife.
It's a fact. I'm irresponsible when drunk.
It's a disability... passed down in my family. Please, forgive me.
- But our next issue has been reserved. - What a fix! What did I say I'd write?
- Do you really not remember?
- It's true. I never lie.
- That's it! Just write like that.
Actually, we've been watching you for some time, impressed by your drunken act.
- Drunken act? - Yes!
Drinking, drunken, blathering act.
At Tonchan's, Toshiko's, Blue Ribbon... the way you rant is so great.
- Thanks, but...
- We knew you could write. It's editor's intuition. We were after you to write for us!
We tracked you, met you last night, and went to those 3 places.
- We went three places?! What a fix.
- What are you to write? - Anything is fine.
- A love story?...About us?
- Doesn't have to be a romance.
- A mystery... about a woman who kills a man. She seems guilty but...
as it develops... Anyway the woman is the suspect.
In the end, she killed him for this or that reason... And the killer is the woman. How's that?
- I am a man walking the Ginza, when...
I meet an old middle-school friend.
Because his hair is so gray... I don't recognize him, but it turns out to be my friend.
And the two of us enter a coffee house.
He talks about his life. Because of the war...
he, who had married the girl I'd loved...
...is now divorced. Coming out of the coffee house...
...the long spring day has ended.
It's getting dark so the towns people quicken their steps.
He disappears in the throng.
My face is reflected in a show window...
and I notice my thinning hair.
Had so many years passed?
- Serious literature, huh? Isn't it too serious for a woman's magazine?
- Because it's for women, I'll tell them the unknown life of a salaried man.
- That might be good.
- An ordinary salaried man... without any talent... who whole-hearted lives a life of hardship.
- If only I could write that. - Just start writing.
Dear... you look almost like a novelist.
How much will you get per page?
That gravel they spread out front... Each time a truck passes...
- Oh no! Grandpa's been hurt.
- What happened?
- We were watching TV when this big rock came flying in...
and hit Grandpa in the leg.
- Are you alright? - Get something cold.
- It's nothing. - The Yoshida's window got broken.
- Is that so? - So dangerous. Could have been your head.
- It's nothing. I was surprised.
- A traffic accident in the house is a violation of human rights.
- What if we build up the wall? - That would be claustrophobic.
- And someday they'll pave the street.
- Lucky it didn't hit the TV.
It wasn't a truck, so it's okay.
- A gravel road - This is what I'll write about.
A young boy runs down a gravel road.
It's a little after one on a Sunday.
The boy looks thoughtful as he runs.
The ten yen coin in his hand is wet and smelly from sweat.
When he enters a shop, the boy takes a deep breath and looks from shelf to shelf.
Twice, three times, then suddenly his face lights up.
This is it, picks out a book, and hands over 10 yen.
The young boy again runs down the road.
The book is Muto Kakunosuke's full-length space manga, Attack of the Venusians.
He disappears into a block of apartments.
But about 10 minutes later, reappears again.
In his left hand a 10 yen coin. In his right the Attack of the Venusians.
Perhaps warned by his mother, this time he's wearing a straw hat.
If returned by 9 am the next day, rental is 10 yen per book.
Beyond that, it's an extra 5 yen per day.
On a Sunday, the boy makes 10 trips between house and book shop, but...
he doesn't pay 100 yen, usually getting a discount on two.
But why does he pay 10 yen for one, return it, and borrow another?
The price is the same if returned the next day. Or he could borrow 5 at once.
Is the boy retarded, or overly punctilious?
He was once obsessed with the Colt... taking it to meals, and to bed.
But saving up a year, he then bought a Snub-Nose 38.
The pistol TV detectives hide under their jackets.
- Snub-nozu, snub-nozu, snub-nozu.
Snub-nozu... Nozu... Nozu means nose.
S... N... U... B, nozu. Lion-nosed. A lion's nose!
- A lion's nose. It becomes more and more awesome. His love for it grew stronger.
The boy's mother was impressed that her son used an English dictionary.
The boy's mother was impressed that her son used an English dictionary. - Which one? Where is it? - Here.
- Which one? Where is it? - Here.
- Snub-nose. A noun... A pug-nose. Really?
- Pug-nose? Not a lion's nose?
- Not a lion nose. It means a turned up nose like yours.
Talking of which, this pistol is like that.
- Hey! - Yes!
- Could you get my hat?
- Here.
Dear, our yard is a little bigger than the neighbor's. You can tell from up here.
Really? So it's big after all.
- This made him feel good. Made him feel very good.
People who haven't lived in company housing wouldn't understand.
Your home is a bit bigger - your yard a bit bigger. This is a good feeling.
A cigaret butt, a match stick, a stone, a bit of clay, a fallen leaf, a clip, one-yen coin...
safety pin, crayon, eraser, dog shit...
chewing gum, pachinko ball, watermelon seed, hair pin.
- So that's where your button went. - Doesn't it look clean now?
- Yes. I'd like a climbing rose there.
Eyes meet? One doesn't speak... is housing etiquette.
If you speak, it's... You're working hard! - Not at all.
- Did you see Oo's great home run? - Yes, I did.
That's about it.
- They've sprouted. Sure are pretty. Oh, those are cosmos. Cosmos are nice.
"I switch the car on to the track just where the cosmos bloom." That's a poem by Shoichiro.
Cosmos, cannas, and primroses remind me of country train stops - travelling. And...
- They aren't cosmos... They're radishes.
- That's why one doesn't speak in housing.
- Those two don't need anything. Having each other is enough. No time for the yard.
- Having... nothing... is fine with me!
The Eburis got married on May 28th, 1949. If this can be called marriage...
At that time, Eburi worked at a small publishers and made?8000.
Natsuko, sewing for a dress maker in Ginza, made?4000.
Paying?1500 rent they could scrape by.
Why not get married?
The ceremony was held at Hikawa shrine.
Then a simple reception in the shrine office.
Dr. Yamanouchi, saying bananas were hard to find, took his home uneaten.
With?7000, they went to Atami hotsprings.
With no reservations, they were turned away from most.
Finally, at the inn where they did stay, Eburi's loin cloth was lost.
Hearing they were newly wed, someone must have taken it for luck.
But I've never heard of such luck.
A tiny second-story room was where they began married life.
- Oh my, welcome home. You're back early today.
- It's so humid, I think it might rain.
- There's a chilled watermelon. Or would you rather start with shochu liquor?
Who are they fooling? The Zangiku Story needs Hanayagi Shotaro and Mori Kakuko.
1949 was the year of the Matsukawa and People's Train incident...
the Taira... and Shimoyama incidents.
Eburi began to sigh, talk to himself, and drink copious amounts of liquor.
And when he drank, he'd argue. He'd often skip work hungover.
When he saw wealthy-looking women... he'd become angry.
They'd stand and laugh on the street.
When would Natsuko laugh like that? When would he laugh with her?
He had lost his confidence.
Eburi and Natsuko often fought.
After six months of marriage, he began to think of the best way to divorce her.
But the next day, they'd walk together singing again.
- Living in Tokyo under the same roof... The youthful two of us are happy to be.
Having... nothing... is fine! - They really had nothing.
- Let's whistle and go on our way.
Look, there's a bride.
I'd like to dress like that some day.
On October 29th, 1950, at his father's place in Azabu, his son Shosuke was born.
- Is it born? - It seems so.
It's born. It's a boy.
- A boy?
- Hey you. You've become a father. - A father?
- And you a grandfather. - What? A grandfather?
When Shosuke was 8 months old, the three of them went to a Ginza restaurant.
- This is good... He ate it!
You must have been very hungry.
- He seems to like it. - Yes. He's making a face. Stinking out his mouth.
Here you go. One more.
This little fellow depends on me. I'll have to feed him.
I can no longer think of suicide.
In the autumn of 1951, Natsuko had a strange fit after midnight.
- Hold my hand. Please, hold my hand. - It's cold.
- Look at my feet. I can't move my feet. - What's the matter?
- I can't breathe.
- Are you alright? - Can't breathe. If I died, what of Shosuke?
- Shosuke. What of... - Hold on!
Sudden symptoms... hand and feet become cold and paralyzed, heart pains, rapid pulse...
arrhythmia, facial muscles stiffen and speech is difficult. This is it.
I'll call a doctor. Diagnosis: tetany - a disease of chickens.
- It was definitely tetany? - Natsuko, my wife hates chickens.
So scared of plucked chickens... she won't pass a butchers.
- That's strange. Anyway, I'll give her an injection.
- For half a year afterwards, these fits occurred once a week.
- Could it be hysteria?
- It's definitely cardiac neurosis. There's no mistake.
- It's nothing at all. - It's probably beriberi.
This is infantile asthma. He'll have it for a while. Anyway, I'll give him an injection.
For ten years, they tried everything, but Shosuke's asthma wasn't cured.
This wonder drug has been passed down through generations from the great Kobodaishi.
Look at this Toyama newspaper even has the story. Just as it says here...
Uncountable letters of thanks pour in from people who have suffered 10 years...
20 years from diseases of the body, of the blood, sudden diseases all cured instantly!
First take a packet in your hands... Get out of here, kid!
- Does it cure asthma? - What? Of course it does.
- Will it truly? - Yes, it will be cured.
- How much is one? - One packet's a measly 100 yen.
- Will asthma really be cured? - Yes, of course.
- Give me one. - Sure. Thanks a lot.
Daddy and Mummy hurry and get better! - It's for me.
- What? For you? 100 yen. Thanks. It's just infantile asthma right?
- No, full-grown adult asthma. The doctor said so.
- I see. Now people, he doesn't work for me. This wonder drug passed down through generations...
- What's this? It's only powdered garlic.
- Garlic? Smells funny. - Sure. Garlic stinks.
But you did buy it for a hundred yen, so why not drink it and see. It might work.
Here's some water. If it's hard to swallow, hold your nose and drink it down.
As with Shosuke, and Natsuko, why is my family so weird looking? And then there's me...
July of the last year of the war. Private Eburi is deployed in Okayama with a rifle.
- Hey there, Eburi. Hey there, Private. Can't you close just one eye?
Can't you say something?
You call yourself a soldier?
- It's no use saying stuff like that.
Pierre Richard-Willm of the Foreign Legion looked handsome. Why can't Japanese soldiers?
Mother! Mother Fran? Oise Rosay!
He's not lazy. Just all thumbs... awkward. His whole family's peculiar.
He's not good with numbers. Can't even count to one hundred.
He can make it to sixty, but in the seventies...
76, 77, 78, 79 and then his head stalls.
87, 88, 89, 90, 98 and then he's lost.
He can't whistle.
But there are others like that.
To this day, he still can't tie a bow... - Your shoe's untied.
No matter how he tries, it ends up a slip knot.
He can't carry a tune. It's terrible. In the army there were weekly talent shows.
At the office, there are parties. - Presenting Eburi. whose favorite (party) trick... When the Violets Bloom.
- I want to drop dead. - He calls green, "blue", and blue "green".
- Which came first... The Kamakura or Muromachi Period?
Uh, well... um... - He confuses the Sanin and Hokuriku areas...
He thinks Toyama and Shimane are adjacent. - Doesn't that cause you problems?
Yes, very much.
He's an ad man for Suntory, but has never taken a photograph.
However much it's explained, he can't operate a tape recorder.
Unable to make copies, he has the office girls make them.
That's why I treat them to tea!
How can he work in a flash business like advertising?
He can't... but he does.
It must be because of the union system.
But Eburi has to somehow get by.
Eburi feels helpless. He really feels helpless.
If Eburi is to support Natsuko with her fits and Shosuke with his asthma...
If he is to somehow get by... won't it be a terrific struggle - a heroic feat?
It's nothing special when talented people survive.
Miyamoto Musashi wasn't at all admirable... because the guy was strong.
The really admirable guys are ones who must struggle to live - the ones like Eburi.
His base pay is Y36,000. Adding allowances and minus taxes he gets less than Y40,000.
From that take out?10,000 in hospital bills for his father's diabetes and nephritis.
From that take out?10,000 in hospital bills for his father's diabetes and nephritis. Shosuke's English lessons and tutor cost Y6,000.
Shosuke's English lessons and tutor cost Y6,000.
Natsuko's singing lesson are Y2,000. With this and that, lessons come to Y10,000.
Do you think this extravagant? Well, it's not. If you think otherwise, step outside!
You want to take me on? Do you?
But the automatic defrosting electric fridge was finally paid off last December.
There's a TV in the sitting room and one upstairs.
That may seem extravagant, but that one's just for Grandpa.
They've still to pay for the stereo, but that'ill be theirs within the year.
The bath is gas. Even if replaced next year, they'll buy a vacuum cleaner and lawn mower.
The following year they'll finally get a room cooler.
And Eburi goes smartly off to work. - Smartly?
Unfortunately, as far as his clothes are concerned, the war's not yet over.
Starting from his underwear... the pants are 3 for 100 yen and easy-to-wear.
Easy-to-wear because they're made from 2 pieces of fabric and some elastic...
so can be worn back-to-front without worries.
They were bought in Azabujuban, but their reputation may be bad.
Lately, there are colored and patterned ones, but who cares.
Eburi, you're unusually early today. - Yeah, for a change.
He's no sportsman. Preciously holding them in with a supporter is silly.
They are precious things, but holding them in so protectively is a bit much.
His undershirts are tank tops with holes and tears around the shoulders.
They're like battle-scarred regimental colors that have seen been better days.
This summer Natsuko bought him some new ones, but...
buying the I size for Eburi's stomach was a mistake.
The bottom fits, but the top sags and shows his nipples.
So he returned to the regimental colors.
Isn't that year-round sporty-look great?
His trousers are khaki-colored U.S. military gear bought in American Alley.
Inside-out, they're strangely marked and stamped with lots of numbers.
The jacket, discarded after the war, or sold on the black market...
was made from a Japanese uniform. Japanese-American relations aside...
their respective uniforms are long-lasting.
One couldn't wear a stranger outfit.
The socks are seasonal gifts from the office and have to be worn.
These are the worst. He was once turned away by a Ginza shoe-shiner.
They're so dry and rough, polish won't help.
- You don't take care of your shoes either. - Shiny ones aren't popular.
- That so? - One must have a point of artful neglect.
At least one? I see..
"Here I stand..." - What's that?
- "Here I stand... revealed." is what it is. - Here I stand?
Saito Mokichi's poem. It goes...
"The plum flowers in glorious blossom, to this garden I come and stand revealed."
Great, isn't it?
I don't like it. Saying I caught a chicken disease.
It's the truth. Nothing I can do about that.
- Is it a novel? Maybe a memoir? It's an autobiographical novel then.
They'll pay you for this? - Who knows...
Say. What's the title?
The Elegant Life of Mr. Everyman. - Great, huh?
- I've changed my mind about Eburi. - I thought him a drunk.
- And that's what became this novel. - Yeah. A drunk's novel.
- It's a bore. - No, it's interesting. I enjoyed it. I laughed.
- They say that Mishima Yukio only wears briefs in winter.
- Steve McQueen wears long-johns. - They have them in America, too?
- Isn't it just Japan?
- Sorry it's such a strange piece of writing.
- The strange part is what's good. My intuition was right. Please go on writing.
- Go on? But I've nothing else to write. This is it here.
Don't joke. It doesn't matter what, keep writing.
- Even writing this did me in. Couldn't even drink.
I have low blood pressure. My stomach's in bad shape. Not cancer or ulcers but it's bad.
The doctor says I must stop drinking. - Then stop drinking and write.
- But it's the writing I want to stop... - We won't let you stop!
No. I quit. I'll write! I'll write a masterpiece! - Shut up.
- Hey. You're not going to let me write? - We won't let you!
- Don't say that. Come on, let me write. Please. I want to write.
- He's begging. Why don't you let him.
- What is it? - I was saying... Another, you want another drink?
Yea. I'll stop writ... er... drinking... - You can write, but don't say I was dumped.
I won't forgive you if you write of Hakone. - I don't care about privacy. I'm gonna write!
December 31st, 1959. It's new years eve and Eburi's mother dies. It's 7:15 am.
- Tomorrow's New Years. - That's right. How old will you be?
- The same tomorrow as today. - Nowadays, you have to wait for your birthday.
Shouchan, wait... something's strange.
- Grandma! - Mother! Don't move her. Father! Natsuko!
Hurry, hurry. Grandpa. - What's the rush?
- Mother. - The doctor. Call the doctor.
A stroke. Cardiac arrest. It's all over.
- She still has a pulse. And she's still warm... I'm sure she has a pulse... Hold on!
My old man over does it. But they'd been together so long. Anybody would do the same.
- Hello. Odano clinic? Is the doctor in? Hello? - Hang on!
Hang in there. It's me. Can you hear me?
If this were Natsuko and Eburi, could Eburi put on an act as good as his dad?
Everyone tells Eburi he's a cold person.
[ In Mourning ]
It was New Years eve but the Eburi household had only 2000 yen.
Eburi speeds off to borrow some money.
His father still had business debts of 18 million yen plus smaller debts for...
restaurants, clothing, gasoline, doctor, dentist, rice, liquor, charcoal, fish.
If it weren't for his mother, his dad would run away.
Eburi's father was born in Yokosuka in August of 1905.
His grandfather fought in the Sino and Russo-Japanese wars but only rose to petty officer.
The family was poor so Eburi's father worked his way through high school in a drafting office.
In 1917 he enrolled in the science and engineering department at Waseda.
After university he worked at a factory in Kyoto, but in 1924 started his own factory.
The next year, he married, and by 1928 had several factories in Tokyo.
She was also from Yokosuka but wealthy and it's unknown how he won her.
He had raised himself up by his bootstraps.
In 1930, because of the worldwide panic, his father was bankrupt.
The creditors used thugs to chase him from address to address.
1931-the new year's fish and wine were set out upon an orange crate.
Shutters closed and locks fastened, 5 year-old Eburi and his mother huddled inside.
September 1931-the Manchurian Incident
January 1932 - The Shanghai Incident.
March - the state of Manchuria was established.
In May 1932, with the 5.15 Incident, National-Socialism was on the rise.
The military gained influence over government.
The defense industry boomed.
1935 -a military friend tells him war is coming - a big war.
Marshaling his resolve, he joins an oil company.
With the moving allowance, he rents a house in Tokyo.
July 1937 - he rises to become Tokyo manager with offices in Marunouchi.
The war saves the Eburi family.
December 1941-The Pacific War.
He runs a factory and his reputation rises.
He buys a 5.7 acre property in Karuizawa and builds a villa - his windfall from war.
November 1944-Tokyo is fire-bombed for the first time.
The Eburi factory, house, and belongings are all destroyed by fire on May 25th, 1945.
(The Surrender Announcement)
After the war, he's like a different man... spending every day at cards or mahjong.
Then suddenly, he gets into managing a private university.
But the days of being chased by creditors would return.
Eburi often finds his father in bars, seated on a bench all alone with fish and wine.
Eburi drags his father home and uses his own allowance to buy him liquor.
Eburi learns to buy liquor by the measure.
But don't be surprised.
At the end of 1949, he enters a large firm, and in 1950 becomes director.
He builds a new house, hires two maids, a cook, and a driver for his foreign car.
That company soon after goes bust.
With the end of one company, he lives in poverty. Then with a new company...
he bounces back and forth.
With the Korean conflict, he reaches his peak.
After then, he has started and folded several businesses in gradually declining health.
Hitting bottom and starting over continues until it couldn't get worse, when...
mother dies.
Until January third, the crematorium closed for the holiday, it became an extended wake.
Because of that, the funeral director charged extra.
With Eburi and Natsuko exhausted, he slips out, then comes home drunk at night.
Hi! So many people gathered. Good evening.
I'm unlucky. I lost.
- Dear. - Your father is suffering from shock.
It's not that I always lose. Remember how I won last Christmas? I was lucky that time.
When I pulled the bundles of money from my pockets, Mother was so happy.
She asked if business was looking up again.
I've lost. But that time she was really happy. It was the only blessing on her spirit.
She died at a good time for me. Seeing the "In Mourning" sign, all the creditors went home.
- Father! - You don't have to look at me so angrily.
I know I caused her suffering. I was the one... I was the one who killed her. I was at fault.
(Funeral oration)
I won't go to the cremation. I plan to remarry. Well then everyone. Fare well.
The morning after the funeral service, mother's will was found in her dresser drawer.
Eburi gathered together Natsuko, father, half and full brother and their wives, both sisters and their spouses and read the will.
If I should die first, I am not sad. But leaving behind your selfish father is my only regret.
Natsuko has gotten better, but I'd like you to find a cure for Shosuke's asthma.
I think moxibustion is the best. Tell him his grandma feels pity, but wishes him to be brave.
I have no other worries. I hope you siblings and your half-brother will get along.
I am partly responsible for your elder brother. Please treat him well and give his wife my pearls.
Though they are still in pawn. She dresses so well in Western clothes, I think they will suit her.
Please keep the funeral simple with the moderate priced service. For the wake serve Sushimasa's seaweed rolls.
That night Eburi cried for the first time. It was while he was having tea over rice.
The florescent tube in the entry is too dark. Why not get a brighter one.
Of course, he was eldest, but this angered Eburi.
He doesn't know the family's economic straits. The entry could stay dark.
Your concern is unwanted. - She was such a good mother.
Suddenly, Eburi's sadness and anger exploded. - Idiot! Keep quiet!
He wasn't sad about her death. He was sad for her state when writing her will.
At that time, maybe before, she was in despair for his father.
Thinking of her realizing she had lived and lost was just too sad.
Please stop.
Seconds.
- Any more relish? - There's only a little left.
- No more rice pickles!? - That is the last.
The house was worn out. The wind was blowing inside. The house of Eburi was finished.
It's the Wuthering Heights. Eburi is 33. The weight falls on his shoulders.
Natsuko and Shosuke will be alright. - Shosuke, don't just stand there. Go to bed.
What will he do with his father? What will he do about the debt?
Forget the business debts, but what about all the endless little ones?
All together there's no way to pay them. Even if the family paid in installments.
How can he shoulder all their difficulties. Mother worried about that and it killed her.
She had said she wanted to live simply with Eburi, Natsuko, and Shosuke in a little house.
She wanted to be small and poor. And she can't do it any more.
Dear, there's a letter from Dr. Yamanouchi.
Yamanouchi had been his teacher and his and Natsuko's matchmaker.
As you know, on January 10th, your father came to me saying that after figuring up the expenses
for your mothers funeral, you were short by 300 thousand yen and had decided to borrow the
the sum from me. He said that she had a million yen life insurance policy and that you would
repay me when the insurance came through. He said that you would have come yourself but...
were still in shock so he came in your place... - He's done it again!
I remember your father having some money at the time. I thought it strange but...
- I never imagined it was from Dr. Yamanouchi. - Eburi really wanted to die.
- I wonder why the lights have gone out. What's this? You've fallen asleep?
- What is it? What happened? - A power failure. Take this up to Pete.
Upstairs, there was an artist for the Stars and Stripes named Pete.
- Eburi, are you better now? - Yes. Thank you.
- I got in a fix during the funeral. - During the funeral?
That day after leaving the house, I realized I'd forgotten my sketchbook and came back.
- I ended up receiving 3 cards. - What about your sketchbook?
- I gave up and left without it. I bet the people giving out the cards were surprised too.
What could Eburi do with his life now? Could he even return Dr. Yamanouchi's money?
Could he bring back Natsuko's laughter? Could he raise Shosuke properly.
How many of his obligations could he fulfill?
All those things he couldn't say to Natsuko or Shosuke. Should he say them to this foreigner?
I've just passed 30... So I can still do something.
Does this guy understand? Oh no.
After that, father was hospitalized with diabetes and nephritis. Eburi could barely afford it.
But his father not liking the ward, asked for a private room.
Father, you can't do this. The room alone is Y60 thousand a month - more than a hotel.
Let's get you back to the ward... You know we can't afford such luxury.
Eburi is worried to death trying to pay your debt. - I want to die, too.
- What are you saying?
- Thank you for the radio. - That's a present. Please keep it.
But I couldn't. I just borrowed it during my lunch break... and forgot to give it back.
- But you don't have to return it. It's a present from the heart. Please take it.
- No way!
Wait! Please... You're so cold. Won't you understand how I feel? Yoko dear.
- Father, you're incorrigible. What's the radio? - Eburi bought it. It cost Y9800.
- Next month we can move to company housing. - But it's a matchbox compared to the one now.
- Mother should have waited a little longer. - Women's life span is longer than men's.
- What would you do if your mother or I died? - That's stupid.
- Then, what if we were real old and one died? - I think I'll die first.
- No. I'll be first. - No. I will.
Stop it! I don't want either of you to die.
- Your mom's easy going so she'll live longer. - I'm easy going? Mother, what do you think?
Am I really easy going? Maybe I am. If I weren't, I never could have continued being your wife.
- How is company housing? - Fine. Thanks.
- What's your older brother up to? - He gets by.
- And your wife's illness? - She's okay.
- And your boy's asthma? - He coughs, but seems fine.
- Hear your dad's out of hospital. How is he? - Getting about.
- That's all good. - Thank you.
- From that, I can't make out what's going on. - It can't be helped. That's how it is.
Once a week father goes to hospital. Eburi walks him to the station and puts him in a taxi.
His father follows him walking with a runny nose.
The bankrupt businessman, now ravaged with age, struggles bravely to keep up.
Fight on you brilliant star of Yokosuka. You had good times - overly good times.
Eburi doesn't consider his father a criminal, not even for what he did during the war.
He would be a war criminal if there were businessmen who didn't profit from the war.
It's too bad dad. Your life as a man ended a few years after the war. But it's not your fault.
It's the way Japan was. Men in business, like you, profit because of war.
Even now, there are those with stocks in shipping and iron works waiting for war.
It's not only you. But please stop. If Shosuke had to go to war, Natsuko and I would die.
Eburi's "The Elegant Life of Mr. Everyman" was nominated for the Naoki prize.
- It's a big deal. What will you do?
- Maybe I should decline? - Decline? That's stupid.
- But I'm scared. - The winner is chosen from all these, right?
Right. Wouldn't it be flaunting to decline before?
- Yes, embarrassing. - You'll have to wait for the outcome.
- You've become a personality. - Stop that.
Now, you're just a nominee. - Yes. That's enough for me.
If I become a former Naoki Prize nominee, do you think they'd let me be stationmaster for a day?
- Sure they would.
I never though a husband who drank could have such hidden talents.
Men need to get drunk and be pushed about by their wives occasionally or they go bad.
I wonder...
- What is the Naoki Prize? Is it like the Nobel Prize?
Well, it's not quite that high, but it's not easy to get.
If he gets it, will he become a novelist? - Even if it gets it, it's still not easy.
- If he did, would he be at home every day? - Who knows?
- Would he stop drinking so much? - Who knows? He might drink more.
- What? Really? - What is that Naoki Prize?
- It's nothing... Father, are you ready to eat?
- It's okay if you come home late sometimes. You can go drinking.
I'm alright. I'm happiest eating at home with you.
- If you want to hang out, don't worry about me. - Is it inconvenient for me to come home early?
- It's not that. - But it's strange. Am I in your way?
- Do you dislike me? - It's not that... More rice? - I've had enough.
Hello. Yes, it is. Mr. Eburi? Yes, he's here. It's from Fuji TV.
Hello. Eburi here... No, not yet... Is that right? Really? Thank you very much.
Congratulations.
Congratulations.
Thank you very much. - Your wife.
- Hello... What? Really?...Yes! - The Naoki Prize?
Hurray! Grandma, Papa did it! He did it! Did it. The Naoki Prize.
Yes well, I never imagined it. Left it to them.
Congratulations!
Today we won't be formal. But I'd like to say... Eburi suddenly getting the prize and becoming...
a media star... Honestly we've thought of him as an old loser at advertising.
Suddenly he's famous and is busy with parties every night, but...
we young people would like to celebrate and... - Your time's up!
I know. I was about to finish. So let's have a good time. The flowers, please.
Thank you. Thank you very much. Today I'm very glad to be surrounded by young people.
I agreed to come today as long as it wasn't formal. But I'd like to say...
but it would take too much time, so I won't. Thank you very much.
It's become oddly quiet. There's no formal address, but if you'd like to ask question, do.
- Eburi, what type of person is your wife? - When I come home at 3 am, she welcomes me.
- But isn't it hard for her? - No, I think she's just reasonable.
- She's old-fashioned. - How many years did it take to train her?
- She was like that from the start. - Could it be true? -Unbelievable.
- What do you like? - Besides alcohol and your wife.
- Parks, athletic meets, babies, and line-dances. I like them a lot.
- Why do you like parks? - I don't know, it's not that I like nature.
Mountains, hot springs, famous spots, and traveling don't interest me.
As for parks, I like the overused ones.
- What do you like about athletic meets? - I like that everyone is trying hard.
The instructors in their white pants are so enthusiastic, even the females in their make up.
But being teachers they're no good at it so their lipstick's crooked, but still they're charming.
With their headbands and high voices, you have to say they are bewitchingly beautiful.
Even the principal is so solicitous. In the tent worrying there are no injuries and...
making sure the PTA chairman has juice. He's looking after things. And the seating.
Wealthy schools are good and poor ones too. At wealthy one, women in minks are screaming.
They want their child to win. They take the opportunity to speak to the teachers.
Wondering why their child's pants are so dirty. Whether they're cold in gym clothes.
Poor ones with straw mats spread on the concrete. Grandmas with lunch boxes and
dads carrying their youngest, permed moms all cheering.
They're so focused. The students are excited.
The clever kids secretly buy and rub menthalated ointment on their legs.
They believe it will make their legs limber. The kids without money sneak into the infirmary
for the ointment - so daring. All to increase their speed.
Even poorer kids use caramels. One piece per 300 meters, so...
if they eat three, they're sure of victory. Isn't it admirable?
The next good thing about them is their absurdity. Track meets are about foot races...
The tracks are small with long curves. They're off like a shot and at the curve
the one slightly ahead surges in front. Everyone cheers. The one behind stays there.
Damn! They're sure they're faster... but it's already lost.
Even with 20 meters to go, the gun goes off for the next race.
Nobody watches him anymore. That feeling of anger and despair...
that causes their acorn-sized balls to shrink. It's male anguish at defeat.
The sadness that stabs the heart... that's life right there. It's drama.
At the goal, he's given the 3rd-place flag. The regret, mortification, humiliation!
I came in second! My post position was good and a fast runner was sick.
The race was slow for soggy track, so I shot out ahead from the outest stall.
Idiot. If I didn't get first place, I got hit.
The happiest time for me, as a child, was in Kawasaki when we were poor.
I'd go to town, watch a movie and eat Chinese noodles or fried noodles.
On the edge of the fried noodles, I'd pile a gob of mustard. I'd pour on a little vinegar...
I'd gently mix the fat noodles adding a bit of mustard and eat. Those were noodles!
- What are you girls looking at? - This is our first time in a place like this.
- We're observing. - What are you drinking?
- Calpis. - They have Calpis in this place?
Calpis is... embarrassing. For some reason it's embarrassing.
Perhaps because it's the taste of puppy love. Maybe it's the negro trademark and its
polka dot wrapping paper?...It's rather difficult to drink fermented milk like Calpis properly.
If it's too concentrated it's sticky. If too diluted, it's like the sad feeling...
when the Yamanote line passes through Otsuka, Sugamo, and Tabata stations. Don't you think?
- I love you. I love you. Forever and ever. - Stop that.
That song makes me nauseous. It was popular when I had morning sickness.
Shosuke was born in October 1950 so this song was popular at the beginning of 1950.
I'm effected by the song "Via Con Dios". Also the song "Changing Partners".
When I hear the female chorus of "Via con dios" I get kind of depressed.
So it became a hit in early 1954. That's when I reached an impasse.
The company where I worked folded and the same happened at the next company.
I started drinking heavily. I didn't give a damn. Hey, where are you going?
We'll be leaving before you. - If she's a woman, I understand. And you?
Because she's a housewife, I must see her home.
- Oh, I see. Is that how it is? - We should also. Right?
- Can't you stay? - That's right. We just started drinking.
Leaving me alone is mean. Are you that cold? Is that what "dry" means?
- Well. Take your time. - The reason Calpis is embarrassing is...
because it started in the 20s doing good business, and has continued to today.
- Isn't that what's embarrassing? - Aren't you giving it too much meaning?
- Isn't that what's embarrassing? - Aren't you giving it too much meaning? - Too much meaning. What do you think? Are you embarrassed?
- Too much meaning. What do you think? Are you embarrassed?
- I'm embarrassed. - Of course you are. Hey!
I was born January 19th 1926. But my birth certificate says I was born November third.
November third is the Meiji anniversary.
"East of Asia where the sun does rise Your saintly figure appeared."
"The mist covering heaven and earth You cleared away with your brilliance."
That's the song. I've had doubts about my birthday being the Meiji anniversary.
Things can't be that perfect. It's said that on that day the weather is always good...
and it doesn't rain. So I thought they just let things be.
But it turns out there was a 10 month difference. The reason they made it 10 months later...
is because my older brother was born in December 1925.
My mother once told me of her surprise when in her last month of carrying me...
suddenly an unknown baby was brought to her. If my real birth date had been registered...
I might have died in the war. 1926 is both the last year of Taisho and the first year of Showa.
The Pacific War began in December 1941 and ended in August 1945 - when I was 16-20.
That's when I was entering manhood. In my youth I always felt the weight of my country.
On the brink of conscription, I was desperate for a world without war - a paradise.
My family was rich so I daydreamed about how good it would be when the war ended.
But it never occurred to me that the war was the reason we were rolling in money.
Don't say farewell, don't speak of living, don't speak of life and death.
"We have come to the end of the ocean There is nothing we can say."
"We who have offered our blood Let us beat our breasts."
"Let us break the moon's reflection in this chalice and drink deep"
"I go to Batavia town, You go to Bandung to fight."
"Tonight we part but one day will together see the Southern Cross."
"Don't say farewell,."
"Look to where the sky and ocean clash The clouds move silently by, silently by."
- What time is it? - I've given up.
We had only death ahead of us. I wanted to prepare myself to die calmly.
The expression "the later years of youth" was popular.
One was drafted at 18, so 15 was one's later years.
The most beautiful way to live is the most beautiful way to die.
- Why don't you go to bed. - Be quiet.
But it's already four o'clock. You two must be sleepy.
- Well. We have to wait for the first train anyway. - Jingu stadium 1937!
That was embarrassing. Absolutely. The pep squad leader stands up!
Hat in right hand raised up high. The anthem! No time, so just number one. Ready!
Northwest of the capitol, to the woods of Waseda... Hey you there! Student, your voice is too soft!
The end! We'll win. We'll win. Go! Go! Go! Hurrah!
Then the rain comes. The game is stopped...
What did university students know of 1937 Japan? Couldn't you stop the war?
- That's impossible, isn't it? -Yes - We couldn't even stop the U.S. Defense Pact.
No way you could have done that. I wonder where that energy went?
- Where did it go? In Japan of this era, war is inevitable.
Had the students been too high-spirited? Or had they been in despair?
I don't know anymore. Where did those student go?
- Where did they go? - Half of them died in the war, perhaps.
Couldn't the energy of Jingu stadium have done something?
Couldn't the energy in front of the Diet building have done something?
- I'm ashamed. - Ashamed.
- I'm hopeless. - Hopeless.
- It's painful to be so ashamed. "Our lodging..." - Dear. That's really enough.
"Our lodgings of sad heart..." Is that it? No, it's not.
"Of evening..." That's it. "expressed in the faint sounds of evening"
I'm sure it's by Ootomo no Yakamochi.
Grey-haired old men... I can't forgive the kind-looking, Grey-haired old men.
Not the balding ones. The balding ones are good-natured.
The young people at Jingu stadium were... Never mind. The war can't be changed. It's passed.
But I won't forgive the Grey-haired old men who seduced the young men with beautiful words.
Half the young men at Jingu stadium died. Without knowing TV and stereos, they died.
"We'll win. We'll win. Go! Go! Go!" they said as they were cut down by the war.
"Hat in right hand raised high" was fine, but "In step. The military anthem" was wrong.
The ones who played baseball all the time, the ones who cheered, the lazy...
They can't be helped. But the cheaters, the smart guys, the shrewd ones...
the ones who seduced the young with beautiful words and made money from it...
that lived off it, the quick-witted, the heartless, not even knowing the meaning of heart...
Them, I cannot forgive. Even if others forgive them, I will not. In my heart, I can't.
Forgive me for beginning abruptly. Tadao, there has been no word of you since then.
I hope you are in good health. I am fine and living unchanged. Be reassured. Winter has come.
The cold north wind blows. Standing by the window waiting for word of you...
the cold storm sneaks inside. The faces pass by. Thats when it pierces my heart...
not to receive a letter, you heartless, and thoughtless man of Iwate.
Each day that passes slowly troubles my soul.
People who read this letter may laugh in embarrassment, but no one has the right to laugh.
This letter was found on February 17th, 1945 on the body of an army corporal in the Philippines.
- Hey. You read the rest. - You want me to read?
- You read it. - I don't want to.
- Hurry up and read. - I'll read it.
It's a woman's letter so it's better if I do.
...slowly troubles my soul. The passing days go by one by one and I realize I am all alone.
I will probably never again see a letter from you. My feelings will never change.
Please store in your heart forever, all the love I give to you.
Keep the picture I gave you with you into eternity.
We were two people together in this cruel floating world.
Every time your letters came, I could have danced with happiness.
Will I ever be able to see one again? In my short life, I have given to you first, Tadao, my love.
Never forget to keep it forever in your heart.
In our pure lives we also had sadness. Tadao, that which we vowed, as with this letter...
has the time to part come so soon? Everything was a dream, an imaginary vision.
Tadao, please be happy forever. I never had the chance...
to to become yours. I receive no letters. If you can please reply at any time.
I am waiting. Every day I wait for a picture of you. Won't you send me one?
Every day I wait. And so I end today hoping you will remember my loneliness.
I'm so lonely my eyes fill with tears and can no longer write.
Take care of yourself. I remain here in Akita praying for your happiness. Yours always...
- I caught a cold. - What a night.
A lot of things have happened but hopefully the stupid ones will stop.
Those times and those things are over.
They all ended with Via con Dios my darling.
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