Cherry Blossoms

This may lack the understated pathos of Ozu's somber masterpiece, but it's still a moving meditation on aging and loss, and Wepper and Elsner are unforgettable.

A uniquely poignant meditation on mortality.

The movie is an ideal blend of character study, deceptively simple plot twists, inspired acting, and travelogue.

It's a gentle lesson in facing life's hardships with acceptance rather than grief.

A quiet, moving tale of love and loss.

If you have ever seen Yasujiro Ozu's masterpiece Tokyo Story -- one of the greatest films ever made -- you may respond to Doris Dörrie's Cherry Blossoms, which is a kind of homage.

I am in favor of films remaining enigmatic or having an air of mystery about them, but Cherry Blossoms crosses the line into aimlessness.

Is it all a bit precious and far-fetched? Sure, but so, the filmmaker is saying, is life.

I can appreciate Dörrie's craft, and her sincerity, but the two-hour story of Rudi's evolution, which includes his unlikely friendship with a tiresome white-faced butoh performer (Aya Irizuki), meant nothing to me.

A bare reading of the plot doesn't actually do justice to the subtle beauty of this exquisite little film.

The example set by Ozu's best works goes unheeded as the film becomes too cutesy and forced to be moving.

It's a quiet, very beautiful film about the duality of love and death.