Fantasia ’19: Stare

There is a new name in long-haired, slit-mouthed yurei J-horror, but you don’t want to know it, because those who do, eventually wind up dead. It is not a pleasant death either. Basically, their eyes explode. There is a way to survive, but it will not be easy, because it is always hard to escape the wrath of a malevolent Japanese horror entity, especially the one we dare not name in Hirotaka Adachi’s Stare, which had its world premiere at the 2019 Fantasia International Film Festival in Montreal.

Mizuki expected to have a laidback lunch with her friend, instead she watched her die from some kind of explosive eyeball aneurism. Soon thereafter, Haruo’s younger brother dies in a similarly grotesque fashion. People just don’t die this way, so Haruo and Mizuki quickly find each other and team-up to investigate. A bit of nosing around leads them to Eiko, a mutual friend of the deceased. Unfortunately, she barely lives long enough to explain how it all started when the three co-workers heard a folk tale about a mystery grudge-holding woman, who killed all those who knew her name.

Alas, she will cry out that name to Mizuki and Haruo while in a state of supernatural agitation. Of course, they pass it on to Mamiya, a journalist investigating the suspicious deaths, who repeats it to his wife. Fortunately, there is a survivor—at least for now—who can explain how he did it (maybe there is a hint there in the title).

Stare is a fun film precisely because of its J-horror excesses. You will shout out loud every time someone utters the unspeakable name, which happens frequently. Sure, it is totally nuts, but the Macguffin, the big tricky gimmick, and the final twist are all deviously clever. Adachi (a.k.a. horror writer Otsuichi) executes the horror business with slickly sinister style. Scare is definitely scary, even if when it doesn’t make much sense (it even acknowledges its biggest logical hole, so you have to just go with it). As Mizuki and Haruo, Marie Iitoyo and Yu Inaba also do their parts, making compellingly earnest and believably scared witless protagonists.

While watching Stare, it is hard not to think about how much money Blumhouse could make with an American remake. Seriously, it has all the elements, plus several fresh wrinkles on supernatural horror. If you can take options on a Stare franchise, snap them up. This has the old J-horror magic of the original Grudge and Ringu—just check your pedantry at the door. Highly recommended for J-horror fans, Stare world premiered at this year’s Fantasia.

Fantasia ’16: The Inerasable

Notorious history disclosure is a big deal in real estate law, but here in the city, we don’t care. If we hear of a murder-suicide in a good building, we ask if that means there’s a vacancy. Tokyo is sort of like that, but this particular flat renting well below the neighborhood market rate still maintains an ominously high turnover rate. The newest tenant finds out why in Yoshihiro Nakamura’s The Inerasables (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 Fantasia International Film Festival.

“I, the mystery novelist” does not talk about herself much, but she has a good relationship with her fans. Currently, she has a regular magazine gig writing ghost stories based on real experiences submitted by her readers. The latest comes from a university architecture student, who will simply be known as “Kubo.” Soon after moving into her suspicious affordable apartment, she started hearing noises from the bedroom nook. She eventually realizes in is the sound of a kimono sash sweeping the floor as the spirit wearing it swings on her spectral noose.

The unwanted supernatural disturbances are entirely confined to the one room of Kubo’s flat, but they appear to be rampant throughout the neighboring unit. With “I’s” help, Kubo starts investigating the history of the land itself, uncovering a chronicle of violent tragedy dating back over a century.

Inerasable is a wickedly smart and atmospheric film that turns j-horror conventions on their head. It is no accident “I” narrates the film, because Inerasable is very much about the telling of the tale. There is really no gore at all to be found within, but it is massively eerie to watch as the layers of the onion are peeled back. This is a horror film mystery readers will flip for, because it is driven by the investigative process.  Frankly, Inerasable will scare viewers directly in proportion to their level of concentration.

As a further relative rarity, Inerasable also features several complex characters played by a first class cast with understated discipline (masterfully helmed by Nakamura). As the cool, calm, and cerebral “I,” Yuko Taakeuchi makes Jessica Fletcher look like a bumbling idiot. Ai Hashimoto’s Kudo is also smart and acutely sensitive. Kuranosuke Sasaki adds some wit and panache as I’s mystery writer colleague, Yoshiaki Hiraoka, while Kenichi Takito keeps it real as Naoto, I’s down to earth husband.

Screenwriter Ken’ichi Suzuki’s adaptation of Fuyumi Ono’s novel has the immersive intricacy of considerably longer but similarly engrossing films, like Nobuhiko Obayashi’s Reason and the Solomon’s’ Perjury duology, which we consider high praise indeed. Yet, Inerasable also strangely brings to mind Scooby-Doo, simply because it is so pleasant to spend time with the informal paranormal-investigating team I assembles. They deserve future sequels, but this is what we have for now and its terrific. Very highly recommended for intelligent horror and mystery fans, The Inerasables had its Quebec premiere at this year’s Fantasia in Montreal.

Sono at MAD: Exte—Hair Extensions (and Into a Dream)

They are not called deadly sins for nothing. The films of Sion Sono prove it. Wrath is a big one in Exte: Hair Extensions (trailer here), perhaps his purest J-Horror film to date. However, vanity plays a part as well, both in Exte as well as the less genre-driven Into a Dream. The latter recently screened during Sion Sono: The New Poet, the Museum of Art and Design’s retrospective to the provocative auteur, with the former screening next Thursday.

In Dream, self-centered television actor Mutsugoro Suzuki is having trouble with his latest theater gig. He is also having difficulty with the old waterworks, which is quite clear from the many scenes of him moaning and grimacing in the gents. In a way, his loyal girlfriend Taeko is fortunate he spurned her for another lover, but he still owes her an awkward conversation. Frankly, he is not sure where he got it, but he will devote more time to answering that question than seeking treatment. Eventually returning like the prodigal to his provincial home, objective reality becomes a dicey proposition for Sauzuki as several persistent waking dreams keep interrupting his ostensive here-and-now.

In terms of tone, Dream is more closely akin to experimental cinema than Nightmare on Elm Street. Despite the strange possibly cosmic circumstances, Sono never attempts to create an atmosphere of suspense or peril, despite the sometimes violent nature of his parallel narratives. Likewise, Tetsushi Tanaka’s cold fish presence as Suzuki is hard to invest in. Still, Sono crafts some fascinating scenes, controlling the narrative shifts quite well. We even get to see scenes from a Japanese production of A Streetcar Named Desire, which is rather disorienting in its own right.

Exte stands in dramatic contrast. Following in the tradition of The Grudge, very bad things happen to the women who get hair extensions taken (unbeknownst to their stylists) from the corpse of a young woman who died a violent death. See, vanity really is a killer. Viewers are also compelled to root for apprentice stylist Yûko Mizushima and Mami, the abused daughter of her trampy sister, who has taken refuge with her aunt. Indeed, like many J-Horror films, there will be a child in supernatural jeopardy, which is manipulative but effective.

Though stylishly executed by Sono (dig those roiling tentacles of hair), Exte is pretty straight forward. It is about killer hair taken for a corpse not at peace—what’s not to get? It is darn scary though and Chiaki Kuriyama is a perfect scream heroine, appropriately cute and vulnerable as Mizushima, a role light years away from Kill Bill’s lethal Gogo Yubari.

Oddly enough, despite the gruesome goings-on, Exte is ultimately rather uplifting compared to some of Sono’s films. Creepy and engaging, it will be a good Halloween warm-up when it screens this coming Thursday (10/27) at the MAD Museum as part of their ongoing Sono film series.

Sono at MAD: Suicide Club

Only Sion Sono could make perky J-pop creepy as all get out. A poet, actor, and mad auteur of Japanese cinema, Sono has helmed some of the most disturbing (though not necessarily violent, per se) Japanese films to breakout on the festival circuit. Suicide Club (a.k.a. Suicide Circle, trailer here) is definitely one of them. Considered Sono’s greatest commercial success, Club screens this afternoon as part of the Museum of Art and Design’s Sion Sono: The New Poet retrospective series.

Just forget that bit about gore not being a hallmark of Sono’s films. Club opens with a notoriously gruesome scene, still controversial ten years after its release. It is rush hour in Shinjuku station and fifty-four high school students are about to join hands and leap in front of a speeding training. We will be spared most of the actual impact, but none of the mess.

The police want to treat the incident as a tragedy instead of a crime, but as spectacularly staged mass suicides become increasingly common they begin to suspect the work of a cult. Around the turn of Y2K, the coppers are still a little green when it comes to the internet. Fortunately, they are contacted by “The Bat,” a mysterious hacker forerunner to Lisbeth Salander. Then things get freaky.

Despite the exploitation veneer, Club is a serious film, executed by a master. Granted, he somewhat abruptly introduces significant characters and changes the tone on a dime, but the film’s over-riding impact is as heavy as it gets. While Japan’s well-documented high suicide rates give Club an inescapable added resonance, it is not an advocacy film, by any means. Rather, Sono is a provocateur, burrowing into the collective imp of perverse, ripping open the self-obliterating impulse to full view.

As is often the case with Sono’s work, Club is his film, through and through. His cast is perfectly competent submerging themselves in this eerie world, so unsettlingly like our own. Yet, they are largely just there to keep up with the wild twists and turns of his story. A notable exception, J-Horror star Ryô Ishibashi is pretty devastating as Kuruda, the police detective who first stars to suspect an outside agency is at work.

Club is not suitable for young children, delicate sensibilities, or most house pets. It is genuinely edgy and ambitious filmmaking though. High recommended for those who fully understand what to expect, Club screens this afternoon (10/8) at th MAD Museum just off Columbus Circle.