I suppose this could be seen as Naruse’s direct response to the New Wave growing in Japan at the time.
The opening titles sound out an icy jazz score as if it were one of these modern films. After that there is a narration, as if this were a documentary-style film by Susumu Hani or Kiju Yoshida. And then: it instantly becomes Naruse. What is so interesting about this is that the setting and atmosphere should feel as modern as the appear to be, but he sticks to his own style and tosses aside those modern techniques employed by young filmmakers. You could say that it is like watching the world through a sheet of glass.
In a way, I would like to think that Hideko Takamine is much like Ruan Lingyu, the great Chinese actress from the 1930s. In that, like her, she seems to so easily change from one expression to another, and in the way that she seems to let her audience almost read her thoughts just from what is on her face. In fact, this is what sets Naruse apart from Ozu. Ozu’s character hide behind masks always concealing their true thoughts and keepng from being expressed. Yet Naruse seems to feel that his characters should be allowed to express their socially tortured selves. Accept of course, Takamine actually smiles throughout most of the film. She must do that as a bar hostess in order to appeal to her customers.
Framed statically almost in its entirety, the film’s cinematography may somewhat mirror Takamine’s character. Indeed, static camera angles are a very good means of conveying the emotional weights placed upon a person. She is the camera, and Naruse’s camera has no escape from the image in front of it.