I wasn’t exactly raised on ghost stories.
Oh, like so many of my era, I grew up watching a good deal of thrills, chills, and spills, but the more traditional ghost stories just weren’t really around, unless you wanted them in comic form with mostly comic actors and actresses. Why, it was almost as if ghosts and their usual haunts were forbidden from the youth of my day, leaving such tales the province of more adult audiences than they ever were the young’uns. As I said, you could find plenty of more traditional laughers — the Three Stooges, the Bowery Boys, Abbott and Costello, Tim Conway and Don Knotts, etc., and they’d ape it up on screens big and small for hearty guffaws — and these were the kind of films that were built more on overacting than they were authentic terror of any measure. It really wasn’t until I got into my teens — the great 1980’s — that Horror storytelling truly expanded in such a way that young and old were welcomed to the cineplexes. Mind you: the adults in the room may not have been elated over sharing space with us, but we came anyway … and we came by the thousands.
Furthermore, it wasn’t until the 1990’s — what with the expanse of home video accessibility in the United States — that I ever knew anything about foreign imports in any genre. Occasionally, we’d get some poorly dubbed entries broadcast on syndicated television channels, but for the most part I didn’t get the chance to explore Japanese, Chinese, Korean, or other country’s Horror until the corner Blockbuster Video had them in respectable supply. Consequently, I don’t consider myself an expert on them in any regard. While I might not be completely unaware of their existence, styles, and trends, I — like many of you — still have plenty to learn about them … and this is why I was hip to check out Arrow Films’ recent collection, J-Horror Rising, an assortment of seven flicks that emerged near the end of the last century, sending audiences on a wild ride into a haunted tomorrow.
Next up: 2001’s Inugami.
Masato Harada both adapted the novel from Masako Bando and directed the project for the silver screen, a tale involving one small town’s obsessions with some age-old superstitions linked to the women of the Bonomiya family. Just about the time when audiences are likely to turn away thinking the whole affair is nothing but some misplaced bigotry, some spectral influences begin to emerge, suggesting that there might be a bit of truth to the outdated rumors. As is often the case when ideas of new and old clash, what ultimately emerges might not be what everyone expects. The film stars Yûki Amami, Atsuro Watabe, Eugene Harada, Shiho Fujimura, and Kazuhiro Yamaji in big roles. Still, the really big star here might be some of the most incredible cinematography seen in a theatrical chiller, giving cameraman Jun’ichi Fujisawa something to be proud of.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
Oh, like so many of my era, I grew up watching a good deal of thrills, chills, and spills, but the more traditional ghost stories just weren’t really around, unless you wanted them in comic form with mostly comic actors and actresses. Why, it was almost as if ghosts and their usual haunts were forbidden from the youth of my day, leaving such tales the province of more adult audiences than they ever were the young’uns. As I said, you could find plenty of more traditional laughers — the Three Stooges, the Bowery Boys, Abbott and Costello, Tim Conway and Don Knotts, etc., and they’d ape it up on screens big and small for hearty guffaws — and these were the kind of films that were built more on overacting than they were authentic terror of any measure. It really wasn’t until I got into my teens — the great 1980’s — that Horror storytelling truly expanded in such a way that young and old were welcomed to the cineplexes. Mind you: the adults in the room may not have been elated over sharing space with us, but we came anyway … and we came by the thousands.
Furthermore, it wasn’t until the 1990’s — what with the expanse of home video accessibility in the United States — that I ever knew anything about foreign imports in any genre. Occasionally, we’d get some poorly dubbed entries broadcast on syndicated television channels, but for the most part I didn’t get the chance to explore Japanese, Chinese, Korean, or other country’s Horror until the corner Blockbuster Video had them in respectable supply. Consequently, I don’t consider myself an expert on them in any regard. While I might not be completely unaware of their existence, styles, and trends, I — like many of you — still have plenty to learn about them … and this is why I was hip to check out Arrow Films’ recent collection, J-Horror Rising, an assortment of seven flicks that emerged near the end of the last century, sending audiences on a wild ride into a haunted tomorrow.
Next up: 2001’s Inugami.
Masato Harada both adapted the novel from Masako Bando and directed the project for the silver screen, a tale involving one small town’s obsessions with some age-old superstitions linked to the women of the Bonomiya family. Just about the time when audiences are likely to turn away thinking the whole affair is nothing but some misplaced bigotry, some spectral influences begin to emerge, suggesting that there might be a bit of truth to the outdated rumors. As is often the case when ideas of new and old clash, what ultimately emerges might not be what everyone expects. The film stars Yûki Amami, Atsuro Watabe, Eugene Harada, Shiho Fujimura, and Kazuhiro Yamaji in big roles. Still, the really big star here might be some of the most incredible cinematography seen in a theatrical chiller, giving cameraman Jun’ichi Fujisawa something to be proud of.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Akira, the young new schoolteacher in town falls for secretive Miki, an older woman who takes care of her family's urn that supposedly holds a forest wolf-spirit, inugami. People soon start disappearing and the town blames Akira.”
I’ve often noted when among friends that some of the best practical filmmaking seems to occur more often than not when some director or producer come together with the goal of delivering an adaptation of a popular novel to audiences. And why shouldn’t that be the case? Countless millions were enthralled with one unique vision from being captivated by little more than words on a page, so it would only stand to reason that – if a director wanted to give it justice – the resulting cinematic vision should, minimally, be something incredible to look at? An inferior production might not only lose money for a studio, but it could also besmirch the reputation of a beloved story. Extra special attention should be expended to get it right.
To a big degree, that’s the greatest strength I can cite on behalf of Inugami: the film – in its big and small moments – looks nothing short of fabulous. Set in a small rural community – the kind of which has residents pushing back against the ugly onslaught of modernity – the tale explores local fact and fantasy as richly and as vividly as I’ve ever seen. From the deep woods to the quaint houses and even a pivotal rocky cave, there’s an absorbing freshness to it all, so much so it’s understandable to see why Fujisawa took home top honors in the category of ‘Best Cinematography’ from the 2002 Mainichi Film Awards, an annual event founded by one of the largest newspaper companies in Japan. It’s work clearly deserving of recognition.
Now …
Where Inugami doesn’t work quite so well is in the film’s entirely laconic pacing. I think it’s reasonable to argue that – in some instances – it’s perfectly acceptable for some myths to take a bit of time. What many critics dub the ‘slow burn’ can’t be achieved with quick, flashy editing, and Inugami might be said to ‘take it’s sweet time’ getting to a big finish that is, sadly, more than a bit predictable. This is one central problem with exploring Folk Horror: once audiences know what the central fantasy is, there’s really no authentic way to hide it any longer, so the director really should get down to brass tacks and make his or her delivery. Inugami doesn’t, instead utilizing the same slow pace even in the frenzied finale; and I think that winds up weakening the whole affair.
“Akira, the young new schoolteacher in town falls for secretive Miki, an older woman who takes care of her family's urn that supposedly holds a forest wolf-spirit, inugami. People soon start disappearing and the town blames Akira.”
I’ve often noted when among friends that some of the best practical filmmaking seems to occur more often than not when some director or producer come together with the goal of delivering an adaptation of a popular novel to audiences. And why shouldn’t that be the case? Countless millions were enthralled with one unique vision from being captivated by little more than words on a page, so it would only stand to reason that – if a director wanted to give it justice – the resulting cinematic vision should, minimally, be something incredible to look at? An inferior production might not only lose money for a studio, but it could also besmirch the reputation of a beloved story. Extra special attention should be expended to get it right.
To a big degree, that’s the greatest strength I can cite on behalf of Inugami: the film – in its big and small moments – looks nothing short of fabulous. Set in a small rural community – the kind of which has residents pushing back against the ugly onslaught of modernity – the tale explores local fact and fantasy as richly and as vividly as I’ve ever seen. From the deep woods to the quaint houses and even a pivotal rocky cave, there’s an absorbing freshness to it all, so much so it’s understandable to see why Fujisawa took home top honors in the category of ‘Best Cinematography’ from the 2002 Mainichi Film Awards, an annual event founded by one of the largest newspaper companies in Japan. It’s work clearly deserving of recognition.
Now …
Where Inugami doesn’t work quite so well is in the film’s entirely laconic pacing. I think it’s reasonable to argue that – in some instances – it’s perfectly acceptable for some myths to take a bit of time. What many critics dub the ‘slow burn’ can’t be achieved with quick, flashy editing, and Inugami might be said to ‘take it’s sweet time’ getting to a big finish that is, sadly, more than a bit predictable. This is one central problem with exploring Folk Horror: once audiences know what the central fantasy is, there’s really no authentic way to hide it any longer, so the director really should get down to brass tacks and make his or her delivery. Inugami doesn’t, instead utilizing the same slow pace even in the frenzied finale; and I think that winds up weakening the whole affair.
At the center of all the hubbub is Miki Bonomiya (played by the luminous Yûki Amami). Staying tried and true to the family business, Miki maintains an outdated paper-making business that manages to keep its doors open chiefly by the goodness of the Doi family – the town’s wealthy matriarch Katsuko Doi’s (Keiko Awagi) young son, Seiji Doi (Eugene Harada), appears a bit smitten with the papermaker. In fact, it’s Seiji who introduces the town’s newest schoolteacher – Akira Nutahara (Atsuro Watabe) – to the woman, and he rather innocently sets in motion a series of events that inevitably unlocks the town curse of the Inugami, said to be deities linked to wild dogs.
Close watchers might expect at this point for their to be a love triangle forged wherein Miki, Seiji, and Akira are thrown into conflict; but the truth is that Miki has already been sought after and longed for by Takanao (Kazuhiro Yamaji), the presumed town ruffian who has a link to the Bonomiya family that’s been obscured for over a few decades. I don’t want to spoil it because it plays so central to everything that’s going on here as well as the founding of the curse; but suffice it to say they share a relationship that has fueled a great many literary classics. To some, it may be nothing all that new, but let’s just say there’s a solid foundation as to why these two never should’ve been – ahem – ‘knocking boots.’
In discussing the character of Miki, however, I do have to divulge one of the film’s kinda/sorta tactics that show the central curse in motion: as a result of finding love, our leading lady ages somewhat backwards in time. When she’s met in her opening scenes, there’s a bit of gray in that head of hair, and she’s somewhat slow-moving and pronounced in what she does. Once her heart regains its youthful beating over the affections of Akira, the gray slowly vanishes from her head; and she begins to demonstrate the exuberance of someone, respectfully, half her age. For what’s it worth, both the director and actress should get credit for making all of this work in spite of the fact that – frankly – Miki never looks as old as she’s said to be at her introduction. She’s clearly a young woman playing an older one in make-up; and, yes, I think that had me questioning this whole town delusion right out of the gate.
Director Harada goes to great lengths to establish these characters, their parameters, and their most likely intersections, giving all involved so wonderfully vivid small(ish) scenes and sequences audiences have seen in any family dramas. The family gets presented as any classical clan does, sitting around the dinner table arguing about the kinds of things families do. There are even introductions to a few of the somewhat oddball locals – the newspaper delivery girl, a somewhat legendary local hunter, etc. – and it all has a good tone of reverence with occasional wit. The Bonomiya curse – tied to the female descendants being able to see the lingering spirits trapped in an old clay urn – is introduced and only richens the pot (pun intended), by for those of us who watch closely the seams to some of the magic begin to show as a pivotal character begins to be a bit less than what has been suggested. (Yes, I’m stepping delicately here in order to preserve some of film’s big twist, something that’s probably not so big as all involved believed it was.) However, it’s all rendered with incredible production design, and nothing should take away from the work involved in bringing these fantastical inspirations to life.
Close watchers might expect at this point for their to be a love triangle forged wherein Miki, Seiji, and Akira are thrown into conflict; but the truth is that Miki has already been sought after and longed for by Takanao (Kazuhiro Yamaji), the presumed town ruffian who has a link to the Bonomiya family that’s been obscured for over a few decades. I don’t want to spoil it because it plays so central to everything that’s going on here as well as the founding of the curse; but suffice it to say they share a relationship that has fueled a great many literary classics. To some, it may be nothing all that new, but let’s just say there’s a solid foundation as to why these two never should’ve been – ahem – ‘knocking boots.’
In discussing the character of Miki, however, I do have to divulge one of the film’s kinda/sorta tactics that show the central curse in motion: as a result of finding love, our leading lady ages somewhat backwards in time. When she’s met in her opening scenes, there’s a bit of gray in that head of hair, and she’s somewhat slow-moving and pronounced in what she does. Once her heart regains its youthful beating over the affections of Akira, the gray slowly vanishes from her head; and she begins to demonstrate the exuberance of someone, respectfully, half her age. For what’s it worth, both the director and actress should get credit for making all of this work in spite of the fact that – frankly – Miki never looks as old as she’s said to be at her introduction. She’s clearly a young woman playing an older one in make-up; and, yes, I think that had me questioning this whole town delusion right out of the gate.
Director Harada goes to great lengths to establish these characters, their parameters, and their most likely intersections, giving all involved so wonderfully vivid small(ish) scenes and sequences audiences have seen in any family dramas. The family gets presented as any classical clan does, sitting around the dinner table arguing about the kinds of things families do. There are even introductions to a few of the somewhat oddball locals – the newspaper delivery girl, a somewhat legendary local hunter, etc. – and it all has a good tone of reverence with occasional wit. The Bonomiya curse – tied to the female descendants being able to see the lingering spirits trapped in an old clay urn – is introduced and only richens the pot (pun intended), by for those of us who watch closely the seams to some of the magic begin to show as a pivotal character begins to be a bit less than what has been suggested. (Yes, I’m stepping delicately here in order to preserve some of film’s big twist, something that’s probably not so big as all involved believed it was.) However, it’s all rendered with incredible production design, and nothing should take away from the work involved in bringing these fantastical inspirations to life.
Sadly, the pacing just never quite works that well in the second half. Revelations are made – along with a few critical lessons learned – and, at this juncture, director Harada should’ve resorted to something a bit less majestic and more utilitarian. The audience should’ve been speeded somewhat along so that the conclusion structured around a performance of ancestral rites had stronger impact. (Also, Harada results to some unnecessary black-and-white footage while, thematically, I think it was unnecessary and downright distracting though it didn’t need to be.) When that doesn’t happen, the event loses the significance we were told it had – in fact, it all turns out to be a bit of a ruse orchestrated by a vengeful Takanao – and I’m left evaluating nothing more than the strengths and weaknesses of not one but two love affairs that went horribly wrong. In the end, I should’ve cared about what happened … but, instead, I was frankly glad it was all finally over … and was it?
With Horror and curses, I guess you never know.
Inugami (2001) was produced by Asmik Ace Entertainment and Inugami Production Group. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert … wowza. This film just looks flat-out fabulous at all times: though I could nitpick a few of the last big sequences involving the rites festival spiraling out of control, but it’s chump change. The vast majority of this works – and works wonderfully – so I’ll leave it at that. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? For clarity’s sake, I’m doing the noble copy-and-paste from Arrow’s press release previously published on Blu-ray.com:
Recommended.
The problem I have with recommending a venture like Inugami (2001) – something advertised to be a Horror story – is that there’s just so very little Horror in here (or what suffices for Horror), making even a cursory nod a bit ill-advised. The film as constructed is much closer to a conventional family melodrama with some light supernatural overtones that give it just enough of the usual tropes to make it palatable for casual genre viewers but probably not true aficionados of thrills, chills, and spills. The spectral elements? They’re just too light. Did I enjoy it? Yes. It is uneven? Yes. Is it worth a viewing? Well, again, if you like literary adaptations, this one smacks heartily of ‘based on a novel’ consistently, giving it some rather prominent predictability here and there. It has an audience, but methinks it’s still a somewhat hard sell except for literary junkies. Love always comes with a cost, and bad love comes at an even higher one.
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Inugami (2001) – as part of their J-Horror Rising Limited Edition Blu-ray Collection – by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
With Horror and curses, I guess you never know.
Inugami (2001) was produced by Asmik Ace Entertainment and Inugami Production Group. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert … wowza. This film just looks flat-out fabulous at all times: though I could nitpick a few of the last big sequences involving the rites festival spiraling out of control, but it’s chump change. The vast majority of this works – and works wonderfully – so I’ll leave it at that. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? For clarity’s sake, I’m doing the noble copy-and-paste from Arrow’s press release previously published on Blu-ray.com:
- Brand new audio commentary on Inugami by Japanese cinema expert Jonathan Clements
- Dog Days, brand new video interview with Inugami director Masato Harada
- Image gallery
Recommended.
The problem I have with recommending a venture like Inugami (2001) – something advertised to be a Horror story – is that there’s just so very little Horror in here (or what suffices for Horror), making even a cursory nod a bit ill-advised. The film as constructed is much closer to a conventional family melodrama with some light supernatural overtones that give it just enough of the usual tropes to make it palatable for casual genre viewers but probably not true aficionados of thrills, chills, and spills. The spectral elements? They’re just too light. Did I enjoy it? Yes. It is uneven? Yes. Is it worth a viewing? Well, again, if you like literary adaptations, this one smacks heartily of ‘based on a novel’ consistently, giving it some rather prominent predictability here and there. It has an audience, but methinks it’s still a somewhat hard sell except for literary junkies. Love always comes with a cost, and bad love comes at an even higher one.
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Inugami (2001) – as part of their J-Horror Rising Limited Edition Blu-ray Collection – by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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