Kaïro

This film starts out well, doing all the right stuff. It had me going for awhile.

But it get's slower, and slower, and slower--not to mention murkier. It is one of those films that would have worked fine as a 90 minute movie--even with some flaws.

But , anyway, this film goes on for about two hours, long after the viewer's interest has begun to wander and you've started scratching your head, wondering exactly what is happening.

Toward the end it kind of degenerates into overly long scenes of people running around in blasted, derelict industrial buildings breathing very hard into their microphones and shouting uninspired, predictable dialogue.

Some things just aren't very dramatic. Longish scenes of people poking around in pretty much abandoned industrial settings looking for stuff and breathing hard into their microphones isn't dramatic.

By the end, we are working our way through a checklist of horror movie clichés in excruciatingly slow motion. Ancient horror movie clichés have to be executed with a certain cleverness, a certain panache, and perhaps a little inventive camera work/cutting. Some snappy dialogue, some attitude. Or maybe you just have to get them out of the way fast. That's not what happens in this film.

The premise is rather interesting, but some of the exposition kind of conflicts with the stated premise--unless the stated premise was a red-herring. It's hard to tell from what they give you on screen and the film didn't motivate me to try to figure it out.

So, nice idea, good start ... really, really slow, pretty much unimaginative ending.

Maybe if they had had a bigger special effects budget ...

I love Takefumi Haketa's score - sometimes disquieting, sometimes sorrowful, but always lending substantially to the mood in the film. I love the haunting atmosphere that pervades the feature, cemented with scenes of desolation - empty buildings and streets.

I wish I had more concrete praise to offer.

There's a vague theme about not giving in to despair and loneliness, as such surrender is the real killer. This thematic content is stronger than any specific sense of narrative - which seems backwards, but here we are. For as much as the Internet is emphasized in one way or another, it's nothing more than a starting point for the plot. For as much as red tape is emphasized, it doesn't seem to serve any actual function in-universe, and therefore none in the plot. And because a few different ideas seem to be put forth, it's unclear why events transpire in the first place. The netherworld is the embodiment of loneliness, maybe? Ghosts want to pass into the real world from the netherworld - because the real world is inherently not lonely, maybe? Ghosts and humans can't coexist in the same space, maybe? Ghosts want to make friends, maybe?

I can abide narrative that is disordered, weak, minimized, or scarce - but I do generally require narrative of some kind in a movie, or some overarching unifying quality. Unless... is that lingering ambiguity the whole point? Is the lack of clarity about what is happening, or why, the other side of the coin to the looming air in the picture of nervous foreboding?

I've only seen a few other Kiyoshi Kurosawa features, but I greatly enjoyed those that I have. I began watching 'Pulse' with high expectations, and I'm sad to say I'm let down. I don't think it's outright bad, but I want to like it much more than I do. The great atmosphere and music keep the film aloft while deeply indistinct writing prevents it from achieving greater heights. Why, as if to accentuate the very difficulty I'm having - I note two blurbs from critics who, speaking from opposite perspectives, still had the same conclusion. Stephen Hunter, for The Washington Post, wrote a positive review in saying "'Pulse' is best enjoyed if it's not questioned too closely. It lives visually in a way it cannot live intellectually." In a nearly identical remark, Jeff Shannon's critical review for The Seattle Times observed "While it's rattling your nerves, 'Pulse' leaves your brain wanting more."

I don't know anything about ghosts, but 'Pulse' definitely exists in a liminal space between life and death. Or is that uncertainty also wholly intentional?

Obviously many other people have gotten more out of this than I have; I'm glad for them. Perhaps given more time and consideration I'll turn a corner and regard 'Pulse' more highly. As it is, much to my disappointment, I'm just unsatisfied.

I'm an old horror buff. I've seen some of the more notorious stuff around (Salo, Cannibal Holocaust, Caligula,...), but they all more or less about visceral horror.

Which doesn't work if you helped slaughter a few pigs.

What does work? Psychological horror. Impending doom you cannot prevent. Things you can't see or understand, but that are there right in front of your face. Music that shouldn't be scary, but which lingers anyway.

It's a typical, slow moving J-Horror with an atypical idea behind it. That oblivion is actually preferable than immortality.

Gore doesn't scare me - but some ideas do.

Like i said - it made me squirm... One of the best horror movies ever made - for the patient ones.

I'd heard so many good things about this movie, I was rather stunned to find myself, well, bored. Please don't confuse me with someone who thinks horror means blood guts and false scares. Indeed, Kairo has, at times, a delicious brooding unnerving sense of dread, and some undeniably classic visuals and moments. But I found myself becoming less and less affected as the movie progressed, irritated even, that such a tantalizing idea was being drained of it's primal effectiveness. In the end, the haunting deeply felt fear that Kairo sporadically creates is left stranded, and the only thing that I talked about after-wards was how it should've been better.

Sometimes you don't need frantic action or buckets of blood to have a movie that scares you out of your seat.

Like the character in I am Legend, there are few people left on Earth at the end of this movie. Tokyo is a ghost town. Where did they all go? That is left for you to argue. Good film for a discussion group.

Is there a finite space where all the souls of the departed go? What happens when that space fills? Interesting questions that are addressed in a very creepy manner by this movie.

But isn't the universe expanding? Do we have to worry now. Is death preferable to living, if you are lonely? You are constantly thinking while you experience this film, and you are never sure of the answers. Call it "adult horror," if you will. It is definitely one to see.