MovieChat Forums > Omohide poro poro (2016) Discussion > The old man at the end of the movie

The old man at the end of the movie

posted 19 years ago by pasky-imdb
24 replies | jump to latest

Right before the subtitles, your attention is rather prominently caught by an old man as he rushed to the train. It appears that he is not meant just as a flavor element, your attention is driven to him way too much - it appears that he is meant to convey something. I didn't really understand what, though. Any ideas?

Stunning masterpiece, otherwise. My parents were quite different from Taeko's, but still I was able to absolutely identify with her. But at the start of the ending titles, it yet leaves you hanging and saying "well, a nice movie, very nostalgic but a bit weird". Do NOT turn it off before the subtitles are over. Coupled with the perfectly fitting music, the last scene is what brought tears to my eyes, and it's very rare a movie could move me so much. Extraordinary.

[–] fasta 19 years ago

Spoiler alert!

Funny that you mention the old man at the end because my parents commented on him too. My dad said "Of course she can't live in the countryside for the rest of her life, she can't even stand a sweating old farmer sitting next to her!" (She changed seat at that scene, right?). Then after the subtitle rolled and they saw what happened, my mom said "This kind of thing only happens in movies!". I don't totally agree with my mom, but I also keep thinking about what the old man means. And I don't have a satisfying answer yet.

[–] emasterslake 19 years ago

I too thought there be more to that old guy, but I guess he's just an extra with no big part to the film.

[–] slg34 18 years ago

maybe his being in such a rush forced her to reconsider what she was doing....

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end" - Semisonic

[–] quickink 10 years ago

To state the obvious, this is an animated movie... there are no extras. They're not people, they're drawings. This old man doesn't need a SAG card.

Further, animation is expensive; if they went to the trouble to put him in there, he serves a purpose. Ghibli films are some of the best planned, best thought-out, best produced projects in film-dom. There's plenty of room to speculate what the old man means and why he's there but there is no doubt he means something and he's there for a very good reason.

[–] 141-OKG 18 years ago

Well, this is one interpretation that I'm surprised no one posted yet:
***SPOILER***

He is an old man & he is alone, on a journey. Perhaps she no longer wants to be alone on her journey of life, or have the farmer boy do so?
I have heard some of my friends cry: I don't want to be an old man, all alone.... Oh well, we all must be alone at one time or another.
That's what the old man & the scene, and these speculations, made me think of. She had a glimpse of that possible future, and she knew the alternative was back at the farm. The old man is a symbol of the future.

Also, as the previous poster pointed out: he is in a hurry, maybe reminding her of the city folks and contrasting to the country life where she now feels so at home.

I liked how all the kids cheered, but then was saddened that she had to leave her 10 year-old self behind. The youths are a symbol of the past.
I was rather surprised at the end song: I knew it was familiar, but the words seemed to fit here more than in the movie "The Rose," where I had first heard it (Better than Bette, too.)

some need to go up 1 or down 1:
http://us.imdb.com/mymovies/list?l=10088562

[–] JJPichardo 18 years ago

It's interesting that the old man is on his way to Tokyo. Perhaps he symbolizes the foul (he's sweaty and probably "offensive") city life that Taeko abandons. Ironic, however, that he's obviously not a Tokyo-ite ("Tokyo-tian"?). Taeko might look at him and wonder, "Is that me in a few years? Old [she agonizes over her age, remember], obnoxious, roaming the countryside just to rush back to the city, where I obviously don't belong?"

"Of course she can't live in the countryside for the rest of her life, she can't even stand a sweating old farmer sitting next to her!" Working in an open field and sitting in a stuffy train -- next to an old man fanning his funk on you -- are two different things.

"This kind of thing only happens in movies!" Perhaps, but earlier in the film, Takeo says something along the lines of, "I would've liked that, but that stuff only happens in the movies," suggesting a longing for the "cinematic." She once strove for stardom, after all. Besides, people who can't divide fractions are different from the rest of us...

How do you guys think Taeko's reminisces affect or comment upon her actions on the farm?

[–] Aussie Stud 18 years ago

It didn't necessarily mean that the old man was on his way to Tokyo. There were many stops along the way which was evident when Takeo got off and boarded the train right back to the country.

I don't think the old man symbolized anything, other than the fact that Takahata (the director) has an extraordinary penchant for story-telling and keen detail. The old man running past them, breaking up a tender moment of goodbyes, sitting down in the seat and fanning himself while his boom box played annoying banter... this was just another excellent observation of everyday things in everyday life. It was not supposed to symbolize anything, other than the fact that his boom box bothered Takeo enough to move to another seat.

[–] dark_frances 12 years ago

I concur with this interpretation.

In addition - I might be too subjective here - we do sometimes project thoughts and emotional states on random details of the universe. If some doorknob or dog or ponytail caught my eye while I was having an intense phone conversation with someone, then after the conversation is over, when my eyes land again on that doorknob or dog or ponytail, I remember myself from a few moments ago very vividly, as if something from that phone conversation, from my feelings and thoughts during that phone conversation got stuck on the little detail that caught my eye. As if a few minutes of my past life have gained an independent existence for themselves, and I can bump into them directly any time.

Well, the old man looked like he was such a carrier of recently past moments - more exactly, the very moment when Taeko parted from her possible future family and wonderful life in the countryside. At least he felt that way for us - because Taeko wasn't looking at him, and we were the ones who kept watching him after Taeko left. To her, he was just someone loud and smelly enough to interfere with her current train of thoughts, but to us (the us partially looking at, partially briefly living as Taeko), he was the departure, maybe old and ugly and stinky and loud and careless, maybe simply there.

He is, after all, the last thing in the movie that belongs to the world where Taeko goes back to her bland and slowly saddening city life - right after she changes seats things start to appear that seem to come from another possible world, a kinder and warmer one, until she gives in and slides completely into it and away from some so-called realistic life. At that point, her previous years in the city must have still looked more like "reality" to her, and reality does have a tendency to frown and roll eyes at your dreams, ...unless you teach it to know better and to stop identifying itself with pessimism and bleakness .

...That, or maybe I'm just stretching the hell out of those few movie seconds .

there's a highway that is curling up like smoke above her shoulder

[–] mightyodinn 14 years ago

I like this explanation. He's in a rush, which contrasts with the country life. He feels to me like a reminder of the urban rat race.

I can't really tell if that's intentional or not, though. Pretty subtle if so.

[–] TerminalMadness 18 years ago

My own interpretation was that he represented not only the rush of city life she'd grown restless with, but also with how she was missing life by rushing around the city. She was about to say goodbye to Toshio and everyone else with a considerably fond farewell and possibly the last farewell, but then this man interrupts completely ruining it rushing to get home, and through this rush and madcap hustle and bustle she misses a possible heartbreaking and tender moment she may never re-claim with her family. I think this reminded her that one tender moment lost could mean many if she kept up the city life. And this in some way inspired her to cherish the moments and then stay put where she felt comfortable.

She was only going back to city life because it was expected, like she'd been expected to do all her life, and for once she took a chance. The climax made me well up considerably, I'm ashamed to admit.

CINEMA CRAZED:
http://www.cinema-crazed.com/

[–] 18 years ago

[deleted]

[–] cyrilchua 14 years ago

I though that the old man was a comparison of rural life to the life in Tokyo.

Anyway, is the last part a dream sequence, or Taeka actually went back to the village?

[–] riffsterl 18 years ago

I, too, wondered if there were something more to him. But I think the answer is this (tho I haven't gone back to check it):

I believe that it is the boombox he is carrying that is important -- Why a boombox? Why not a Walkman? Because it is the in-scene source of the song we hear over the end credits (Japanese version of "The Rose"), and thus Taeko is listening to it too. It seemed to me that she started to move off (possibly to get away from the loud music rather than the "smelly" man?) but then started paying attention to the words, and elected not to move so far away after all so that she could listen.

As I say, though, this is my impression from first viewing - it's possible I'm mistaken.

[–] the_shrine 18 years ago

The first thing I thought of when I saw him, because he looked poor, was Tanaka the poor boy she felt she had mistreated. There are no indications it is, in fact, him, but it was the first thing that hit me.

[–] tsaavala 16 years ago

I agree about the old man's radio (cassette player, whatever): clearly the Taeko hears the music and it's an instrumental part of her decision to go back. Also cinematically, the ambivalent status of the music (it starts out as 'diegetic', in other words, part of the world of the narration, but turns out to be 'extradiegetic', IOW bacground music for the film) parallels the fantastic mixture of memories and reality (the kids also operate in the area between diegetic and extradiegetic).

Furthermore, I feel that the way the old man interrupted their goodbye denied Taeko the proper closure for her visit, forcing her to introspect the situation, and making it easier for her to go back.

[–] paperbullet 16 years ago

Actually, the only reason he's there is to interrupt Taeko's conversation so then her goodbye is a little more abrupt. Looking at it from a filmmaker's point of view, that is.

http://www.veoh.com/videos/v4966154yjAHTbN
Best thing ever.

[–] kleei2 16 years ago

I got the impression that he was in a hurry to leave, not just in a rush because he thought he was going to miss the train (they all seemed surprised at his behavior). Then she's in a hurry to go back. Seemed like just a simple contrasting of characters. And probably his overall body language/behavior had an impression on her since she hesitates when walking up the aisle after switching seats.

---
prepare to be boarded

[–] weatwa 16 years ago

I can't find it now, but wasn't there a scene where she was saying how she used to ride the trains and try to guess the people who lived alone (without love)? She said they always looked so... I can't remember - empty? I took it that she thought the old man lived alone and the thought of turning out like him scared her. So yeah, my view is similar to a lot of the other posts above, but I'm linking the man to the other scene.

[–] rapzip1-1 16 years ago

People are over-analyzing it.
The purpose was to break the tension, and to avoid a mawkish "good-bye" scene. it is a very clever device to prepare for a "surprise" effect for the last scene. If you ever write a script yourself, you are always looking for this type of clever device. Think, why, as soon as old men showed up, does the credit start to roll? Credits itself was a "device" or "trick" to deceive audience temporarily to imply that the movie is ending without dramatic ending.

[–] amhguy2 14 years ago

Okay, so I just watched this AMAZING movie for the first time, and I've got to say that I agree with most of the opinions posted on here, especially the ones that say that the old man is there cinematically to make Taeko rethink her choice to go back. However, when I was watching the movie I had this thought when I first saw him: What if it turned out that the old man was actually Toshio several years down the line, trying to get her to think about coming back? I'm probably wrong on this, but I was just wondering if anyone else had thought this way as well.

[–] Suzume-san 14 years ago

Well said, Rapzip. I don't have anything to add, I just want to agree with you. Thank you for the insight.

[–] phillip-davies 13 years ago

Hello! I agree completely about the dramatic function of this character. It avoids altogether the sort of mawkishness that our American friends (bless 'em!) just can't resist. (Too many sweets when young, perhaps.) Anyway, I'd just like to say that the character's appearance at this point in the drama is also essential in order to provide the grace-note to Taeko's abiding regret at her unkind behaviour, as a child, towards the awkward, grubby little lad who sat next to her in school. The old man might be that little lad now grown old and no less unsocial, or any the less offensive in his person, and still lonely. We are moved by his obvious distress at his last-minute over-exertion to catch the train, which is surely a sign of his having no-one to give purpose to his bustling but unfulfilling comings and goings; and we feel the further painful realisation which is conveyed to us - and to Taeko as well (no doubt) - that the only companion he ever takes with him on his journeys is his radio: a sort of 'karaoke' of an empty life, meaningless and irritating to anyone else around. He is a lost and unhappy soul, alone in the world. To those who have seen this superb film - which is certainly artistically superior to most modern live-action movies - I need say no more. We know that the dramatic subtlety and deep significance of this very fine piece of cinema will repay the many return visits we will assuredly make to it, as to the home of one of our very best old friends. There is an excellent review (online) by Daniel Thomas, which perfectly encapsulates "Omohide Poro Poro" (lit. 'Memories of Falling Teardrops') as, 'Ozu painted with watercolours.'