home.
Here's your lunch.
Thank you for eveything.
Come up to Tokyo on your vacation.
Must you go home today?
Yes, I must.
I'm sory I can't see you off
at the station.
That's all right.
Be sure to come to Tokyo.
I'm so glad you stayed.
I think they should have stayed
a bit longer.
But they're busy.
They're selfiish.
Demanding things
and leaving like this.
They have their own affairs.
You have yours too.
They're selfiish.
But Kyoko...
Wanting her clothes
right after her death.
I felt so sory for poor Mother.
Even strangers would have been
more considerate.
But look, Kyoko.
At your age I thought so too.
But children do drift away
from their parents.
A woman has her own life,
apart from her parents,
when she becomes Shige's age.
So she meant no harm, I'm sure.
They have to look after
their own lives.
I wonder.
I won't ever be like that.
Then what's the point
of being family?
It is.
But children become like that
gradually.
Then -you, too?
I may become like that,
in spite of myself.
Isn't life disappointing?
Yes, it is.
I must get going.
Good-bye, then.
Father, I'm leaving now.
Take care of yourself.
Thank you. Good-bye.
Please come to Tokyo
on your vacation.
Good-bye.
Has she gone?
Father, I'm leaving
on the afternoon train.
You are?
Thank you for eveything.
Please, I didn't do anything.
You've been a great help.
Mother told me
how kind you were to her
when she stayed at your place.
I didn't have much to offer.
She meant it.
She told me it was
her happiest time in Tokyo.
I want to thank you too.
She was so worried
about your future.
You can't go on like this.
Don't wory about me.
I want to see you married
as soon as possible.
Forget about Shoji.
He's dead.
It hurts me to see you
go on living like this.
No, it's not like that.
I mean it.
She said she'd never seen
a nicer woman than you.
She overestimated me.
You're wrong, Noriko.
She did. I'm not the nice woman
she thought I was.
If you see me like that,
it embarrasses me.
No, it shouldn't.
Really, I'm quite selfiish.
I'm not always thinking of your son,
though you think I am.
I'll be happy if you forget him.
Often I don't think of him for days.
Sometimes I feel
I can't go on like this forever.
Often I wonder,
when I can't sleep,
what will become of me
if I stay this way.
Day passes and night comes,
yet nothing happens,
and I feel a kind of loneliness.
My heart seems to be waiting
for something.
I'm selfiish.
You are not.
Yes, I am.
But I couldn't say this to Mother.
That's all right.
You are truly a good woman.
An honest woman.
Not at all.
This watch belonged to her.
It's old-fashioned, I believe,
but she used it
since she was your age.
Take it for her sake.
Please take it.
I'm sure she'd be happy
if you'd use it.
For her sake, please.
Thank you.
Please believe me,
I want you to be happy.
Sincerely.
I mean it.
It's strange.
We have children of our own,
yet you've done the most for us,
and you're not even a blood relative.
Thank you.
You're going to be lonely
with them all gone.
It was really so sudden.
She was a headstrong woman,
but if I had known things
would come to this,
I'd have been kinder to her
while she was alive.
Living alone, I feel
the days will get vey long.
Lonely.
You will be lonely.
THE ENDA SHOCHIKU PRODUCTION
FROM THE 1953 CULTURAL FESTIVAL
TOKYO STORY
Screenplay by
KOGO NODA and YASUJIRO OZU
Executive Producer
TAKESHI YAMAMOTO
Photography by
YUHARU ATSUTA
Art Direction by
TATSUO HAMADA
With
SETSUKO HARA
CHISHU RYU
CHIEKO HIGASHIYAMA
HARUKO SUGIMURA
SO YAMAMURA
KUNIKO MIYAKE
KYOKO KAGAWA
EIJIRO TONO
NOBUO NAKAMURA
SHIRO OSAKA
HISAO TOAKE
TERUKO NAGAOKA
Directed by
YASUJIRO OZU
We'll pass Osaka
at about 6:00 tonight.
Keizo should be off work by then.
If he got our telegram,
he'll be at Osaka Station.
Here are your lunches.
I'm leaving now.
You don't have to see us off
if you're busy at