Crimes Obscuros

This really is another masterpiece in a gathering of work that puts so many American mainstream horror directors to shame.

A rich tale of longing and unrequited desire, summed in an intensely satisfying, and beautiful prose. Delicate, yet overwhelming at times. Smart and distracting, like the written lines of Haruki Murakami, filled with lynchesque overtones. It reminded me of Miike doing Izo, in its expertise in skipping genre and time planes to find its core story. I loved this movie. I know it is clique, but I laughed, I cried. I jumped out of the seat of my pants!!!

For a lover of Kurosawa, this is a must!

Koji Yakusho's portrayal of Detective Noboru Yoshioka, develops a character who is unimaginably stoic. This is clearly represented whenever his girlfriend Harue (Manami Konishi) leaves for work, his reply being less than satisfactory, and more of a grunt, conveying a sense of lacking appreciation. This is one such theme maintained over the course of the feature, as is paranoia, selfishness and lack of control, Noboru equally showing his character to be easily frustrated and quick to anger, which is especially heightened due to the situation he is immediately thrust into. An unidentifiable woman in a red dress is murdered during the film's opening - drowned in a pool of sea water, several pieces of evidence located around the scene implicating Noboru himself as the culprit. Fellow detective Toru (Tsuyoshi Ihara) additionally suspects Noboru, though his rush to judgement appears illogical for a skilled officer of the law, who, rather than ruling out other possible scenarios, is quick to blame a man who he has served beside for an unprecedented number of years, this aspect of the plot appearing to have been inserted in an attempt to intensify the atmosphere, however, the reckless handling of his suspicion ultimately collapses.

Not long after the murder, Noboru begins to be haunted by a woman matching the description of the unidentified victim. Riona Hazuki as the ghost is disturbingly efficient, her vapory voice, stone faced expression and stiff, almost zombie-like movements immersing viewers during the moments of her appearance. The red dress she wears is incredibly eye-catching, and the use of bland environments accentuates the audience taking notice. Director Kiyoshi Kurosawa heightens this suspense with his style, the camera often capturing Ms. Hazuki's face in either a partial shot, to increase mystery and intent, or a close-up, her accusatory expression burning a hole through the screen. If she were to creep any closer, she would probably jump right out of the television - thankfully the film isn't in 3D, else I personally may have wet my pants.

The effectiveness of the ghost's portrayal is however slighted by the director's vision. Although unique, the fact she is corporeal, rather than transparent, and because of this, often employs the function of a door, rather than simply gliding through objects, seems almost strange, this peculiarity being heightened by the addendum that she has a habit of taking off like Super-Man. It is, furthermore, difficult to ascertain whether she is deserving of our sympathy, or if she is presumably an antagonist, the director affording the audience choice in this regard.

As more bodies begin to appear, killed in a similar fashion to the initial victim, the threat of a serial killer plagues largely on the minds of the police, and for some, only heightens the suspicion around Noboru's character. Despite his continued insistence that he is not complicit in the crimes after been accused by the ghost herself, Noboru begins to investigate his past, the film richly developing the notion of forgetfulness through use of the environment, especially urban redevelopment projects, and the idea that the buried past is lost to the present day, an idea further suggested by Harue's character. Japan itself is positioned during the film as a continuously evolving entity, the frequent tumultuous earthquakes, matching the unsettling inexplicable nature of the murders, not to mention the narrative's climate.

Many instances in the film are provided limited explanation: how Noboru is able locate other potential suspects, alongside random pieces of evidence after driving around for a few minutes is simply astounding, as is another sub-plot, in which the smell of a decomposing corpse is not enough to notify the inhabitant of the residence that they are sharing a house with the deceased. What is perhaps most frustrating of all is the lacking information provided in regards to characters. Noboru and the woman in red are provided just enough of a back-story to ensure the plot progresses, however, the lacking substance forbids a deeper understanding or emotional connection. Even the accusatory remarks about her death, despite been interesting, are seldom provided adequate reinforcement. The same argument could be potentially made about the modus operandi of the murders, which seems very convenient after having been provided a bland explanation. Despite this, the film accurately shows how people interpret the world, and what was a miniscule moment for one person, can be life changing for someone else.

The conclusion, which is obviously meant to shock viewers with a sudden revelation, due to the aforementioned lack of detail, is neither surprising nor impacting, and despite subtle hints being employed during the feature that mutually come together at the end, more depth is needed to position audiences to be legitimately grounded in the story of Retribution. Moreover, the interpretative and contradictory end, rather than suspending viewers in excitement, or terror, simply suspends them in a sea of questions - a testament to the film's inability to adequately provide answers. Despite exhibiting some similarity with the movie Cure, Retribution remains interestingly mysterious. However, all mysteries, to be effective, need to be adequately solved - this is largely not the case here.

This is not your typical j-horror. There are no bloody murders, no nudity, and you really have to contemplate everything to figure it out. It requires and investment that most horror aficionados would be loathe to do.

Kôji Yakusho (Babel, and the original and much better Shall We Dance?) is Yoshioka, a detective that is investigating a murder, and he finds clues that point to him as the killer. He is visited by a ghost of the victim (Riona Hazuki) and he is going crazy because he can't figure what he did wrong. Even after they find her killer, she still haunts him.

Repetitive occurrences and talk indicate that they may be clues to the mystery - frequent earthquakes, all the victims were drowned in salt water (including one in a tub), the preoccupation with the ferry from 15 years ago, and the constant talk of tearing down and rebuilding along the coast.

These things keep occurring, but they don't bring you any closer to the truth.

Manami Konishi, as Yoshioka's girlfriend was a pleasurable presence, as well as an excellent actress.

Kiyoshi Kurosawa certainly knows how to tell a ghost story.

I am a huge fan of Kiyoshi Kurosawa's work and I also greatly admire Koji Yakusho as well. Ironically it was his performance in Warai no Daigaku cemented my admiration. None the less, seeing both of these talented people partner up for a film filled me with anticipation. Before seeing Sakebi I knew that it would not be along the lines of other genre mates like Juon or Chakushinari. I also knew that the film would be carried over to the West on the wings of Hollywood remake hype and be marketed as the "scariest thing ever".

Well those advertising execs have to learn that the definition of "scary" in the West, particularly nowadays, is a heck of a lot more literal and straight to the point: the ghost appears, augmented by all manner of cgi effects, just in case we didn't realise her nature, and then cue loud audio cue, "boo!". Was it as scary for you as it was for me? It also seems that knowing everything that there possibly is to know about a ghost apparently makes the whole situation more frightening.

It exasperates me that today's spoon-fed audience chalk up anything inexplicable or mysterious about a film as bad writing and direction. As far as these viewers are concerned, mysteries are OK as long as they are smart enough to work them out, crying out "I didn't pay to be confused" as they eject the DVD in perplexed disgust.

Which leads me to the film in question. The tag-line "There is no escape from the ultimate retribution" should have been saved for the next regurgitation of Friday The 13th. A film such as Sakebi deserves promotion targeting a much more sophisticated audience. Where are the people that enjoyed Don't Look Now, one of most effective and haunting supernatural thrillers ever made? They aren't going to see a film with a tag-line that could have been made from some university student's Internet horror tag-line generator.

But it seems that I have typed so much and barely touched on the film itself. I won't go into the story more than just to say that it revolves around the investigation into a series of similar murders occurring largely in and around the coastal landfill and reclamation areas of Tokyo. This setting lends the film a strong sense of isolation, and the characters reflect that. Thematically, Sakebi deals with loneliness and abandonment, which while not new for the horror genre, Kurosawa gives them a breath of life.

There is much about this film that strays from genre trappings, and there is perhaps equally as much that stays within them. However, ultimately this is a Kiyoshi Kurosawa film and it isn't going to appeal to everyone. Its stillness and reflection will turn off many viewers, as will its unwillingness to lift the curtain and expose the workings of story. Terrible acts shown in long shots give us a feeling of helpless voyeurism, with no fast editing or closeups to remind us that we are watching a film. The film's score is so unobtrusive that I can't really recall even hearing it, and most of the film is on a background of ambient sound.

But perhaps it is Kurosawa's trademark of staying with the characters and rejecting the God's Eye View of the story that will perplex and affront viewers the most. There is an expectation that at least we should be let in on the secret and know more than the characters do. We are smarter than they are, aren't we? But why should we know? Life is full of mysteries, irrationality and actions with unknown motives. We can't even explain why a man kills his whole family and them himself, so how can we hope to know the motivations of a restless spirit.

I think that this touches on something important: people WANT to know why people do terrible things and the confessions of a ghost are the ultimate revelation. Horror, like science fiction are so often reflections of the fears and insecurities of our time. We can't explain the tragedies around us, but maybe through the genre of horror we can try to come to terms with them.

On the other hand, for some reason, more than likely cultural, Japanese horror does away with the naivety that we could somehow fathom the ultimate mysteries of death. Instead it shows us something bleak and inevitable, far beyond our knowledge and understanding. Something that has transcended our existence, yet profoundly affects us. Japanese horror reminds us that we don't have as tight a grip on the universe as we like to believe, and that bothers some people.

(2006) Retribution (In Japanese with English subtitles) PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR/ SOCIAL COMMENTARY

Another subtle masterpiece from Kiyoshi Kurosawa (Cure, Pulse) and definitely not for the simple minded which is the alternate and the Japanese equivalent of "The Sixth Sense" showcasing at the beginning of an unknown person drowning a girl to death in a puddle of salted water. Then the next scene shows a police detective Kôji Yakusho as the unshaven Noboru coming out of a hangover and conversing with his girlfriend whose assigned to the case of the drowned girl and begins to find materialistic things linking him to the murder itself. At the same time a ghostly image of the drowned girl consistently appears haunting him like he was the one that did it. To say anymore would ruin it's subtle social commentary message about 'owning up a crime and then act like it never happened at all'! There is hardly any blood but a lot of unexplainable things which would be answered toward the end. I might've enjoyed this film had it been a lot longer than it's current running time of 103 minutes.