Chasing Shadows: The Lost Beauty of Kâwa no ûeno taiyô

So, it's a ghost story.

Literally, because you can’t actually watch Kâwa no ûeno taiyô. It’s one of those tragic lost films that exists now only in old clippings and the collective memory of people who probably aren’t around to talk about it anymore. If you’re the type of person who gets obsessed with film archives or enjoys the sheer melancholy of imagining what a lost masterpiece looked like, you’ll be fascinated by this. If you want a movie to watch on a Friday night with a pizza, you are going to be miserable.

There is something specifically haunting about films from the Sumida River era. You read about the production and you start to wonder about the light—how did it hit the water? Was it grey or shimmering? We’ll never know. It’s like trying to remember a dream you had in 1935.

The story focuses on a father, Kentaro, and his kids. It’s the classic stuff of domestic friction. People stop talking, people move away, and then—maybe—they try to find their way back to each other. It sounds simple, maybe even a bit dry, but I suspect it had that heavy, grounded weight that so many Japanese dramas from that time carried perfectly.

The void left behind

It’s weird to write about a movie that doesn't exist. It’s almost like writing a review of the wind. I keep thinking about how this compares to other works of the period. It’s not quite as frantic as something like High Hat, and it feels worlds away from the lighthearted energy of Love Birds. It belongs to that specific, somber lane of storytelling.

I find myself staring at the cast list, trying to visualize faces. Kôji Ôizumi must have had a certain look, right? The kind of weary exhaustion that only comes from working on the river. Maybe he looks a bit like the protagonist in Short Pants, but with more dirt under his fingernails. Who knows.

• The Sumida River as a metaphor for time? Classic.
• The family dynamic between Kentaro and Ochiyo feels like it was probably the emotional anchor.
• The fact that this is completely lost is just a punch to the gut for anyone who likes movies.

Sometimes I think about the last person who saw the final print of this. Was it sitting in a basement? Did they know they were watching the last iteration of that specific performance? It’s a weird thing to ponder while sitting in my office. 🎞️

Anyway, don't go looking for a stream. You won't find it. But maybe, just maybe, look up some of the other works by the same team. It won't bring this one back, but it might give you a hint of the mood. It’s a shame. Just a total, quiet shame.