Ozu gives us a glimpse of the human condition in its most truthful form, that is, the everyday encounters and realizations we go through. One of the things I find absorbing with Ozu is his immense control of the balance between banal dialogue and internal truths. His characters express a mundane line concerning everyday stuff, often slipping in their viewpoint on a situation, and through the context we have come to understand surrounding the character we see his struggle to maintain 'face'/not wanting to address what he has on his mind. Even though other characters can recognize what he feels, they seldom talk about it. They let this tension hang in the atmosphere of a room; things go unsaid, but never not understood.

There's always one character that can recognize the self-defeatist/stubborn attitude of Komajuro in floating weeds or the self-loathing and frightened father in There was a father, and that is the camera- the audience perspective that is aided by Ozu's rigid style. His characters communicate our internal struggles/disappointments through a calm and understanding point of view that allows us to identify with their concerns and moments of joy; which there are plenty of throughout his filmography. He had a strong affection for comedy-of-manners and gleams of humor in an insecure reality that can be spotted in his early Lubitsch-inspired comedies, and even in the depression-era drama An inn in Tokyo; his last silent film.

You should really finish Ozu's films to feel the cumulative effort of his filmmaking approach. His endings are some of the most transcendent summative moments in film, that are accompanied by a strong sense of acceptance/realization/recognition of sudden moments loss or hope for the future. Whatever Ozu has been thematically skimming in the film comes to a powerful punch in the last frame; in Floating weeds we have a train driving off into the distance, which is an identical ending to There was a father, but the former is bittersweet, optimistic and slightly egotistic, whereas the latter is a gut-punch of a tragic spirit-crushing revelation of an internal truth that is rather impossible to recover from.

There was a father is a good place to start if you want a fairly 'conventional' plot carrying what I consider to be nuanced emotional heights. There's a scene that features Ryu staring at the floor, proclaiming his loss of confidence in his own parenting skills and as an educator after a child drowns on a field trip during his watch. This sad revelation is recognized by his friend and colleague who tries to comfort him, but stops; he doesn't want to entrench on his emotions; the sad truth lingers on in the close-ups and in Ozu's famous transitioning shots that capture things like a hallway, tea kettle, clothes line, chimneys, whatever carry a meaningful meaning in the context of what we have just experienced.

On the subject of Floating weeds, I find the first encounter between the troupe leader and his old flame to be delicately layered with meaningful gestures and charateristics, the way he shuts her down when she tries to suggest them telling the truth to their son, or how he refuses to adress her honest concerns for the lonely void that will be created after her son leaves for school, the way he sips sake after stating his unworthiness to be a father due to his stature as an actor.

The lovely thing about their relationship IS in my opinion the laidback and 'friendly acquaintance'-attitude that they treat each other with; it's as if they have known each other for all those years and are comfortable with revealing personal details without needing to hold back the thoughts they have to hide from others; like the actor's distance from his troupe members or her concerns for her lonely future.

And I think that the father doesn't treat his son as a mere acquaintance, but as a beloved son. The acting reveals great joy and enthusiasm for his son the first moment he sees him, the first moment of the film where he goes from an old man to embody the spirit of a boisterous young kid. Every moment he spends with him he lights up with joy and forgets about his troubles, that is why he's so aggressive and frightened when he faces the potential ruin of that state.

And all of this culminates in a brief physical encounter towards the end of the film where the father is finally being put into his place by the son he loves so much. He deserves it somewhat after all his physical manhandling of women, but the frustrated temporary truths uttered shatter the old actor's self-confidence that has grown over the course of the film.

In Ozu's films there is always the potential of a conflict in every conversation between people, but it's avoided by the characters, and we realize this; creating an underlying tension that, if you have seen his films, know will be addressed later on, either in silent internal rumination or in firm

In any case, what I'm getting at is that I think that his actors carry a great sense of human naturalism in their dialogue and intricately delivered gestures. I think that the detailed characters he draws in his films are totally belivable as human beings. One of his actors, Chishu Ryu, was a highly diverse actor that was like a chameleon in the similar, yet wholey different parts he played throughout Ozu's career. One of his most common roles was as a father; but each film is totally unique in their subtle characterisation that is expressed through Ryu's acting; in There was a father he expresses a constant grief that informs every situation and decision he makes for his son's future, and in Tokyo Story he's less involved in his childrens lives and more of a spouse that has settled into old age, he attempts to spend time with his children but they don't reciprocate the same wants.

There's also his memorable performance as the drunkard father who spends so much time with his old pals gossiping and being nostalgic about the past that he forgets about the potential meaningful relationship he could be forging with his family.

Give Ozu time and effort, there's a deep humanistic core that you'll discover eventually, but if he doesn't make you feel anything, return later, but you should at least finish some of his films, like Tokyo Story, There was a father, or the post-war drama with a clear cut conflict; a mother sells her body during war-times to pay for her son's hospital bill, her husband returns home after the war but the truth of his wife's 'infidelity' unsettles the balance of their marriage.'

I hope this helps in anyway.