Many years ago a series of terrible murders took place in a hotel. These acts of homicide were executed and filmed by a professor, who was trying to realize a sort of experience concerning reincarnation, but the footage had disappeared. Then, some years later, a horror movie director decides to do a movie about the massacre. As he starts the production, a young actress hired to star the main role is haunted by the souls of the massacre victims.
Nagisa, who is the actress who plays a little girl who was murdered at the hotel believes she is the reincarnation of the little girl until she goes to the place where the little girl died and finds someone else there. When she sees the real reincarnation of the little girl, she realizes she is the reincarnation of the homicidal professor, not one of the victims.
A director is casting a new film about a murder that took place in a hotel
decades ago. Up for the lead are a slew of unknown actresses hoping this is
their big break. Nagissa (Yuuka) is an aspiring young actress with no experience
under her belt. Yuka Morita (Marika Matsumoto) is a thoroughly batshit actress
who begins talking insanely during the interview process ad infinitum about her
main qualification for a new film role about a murdered woman being that she was
murdered in a past life. My favorite show in the history of television is
Dynasty, and my favorite character has always been Claudia, the
dramatically sanitarium-bound wife of that lilting creep Matthew Blaisdel, who
in the 1981-82 seasons alone managed to attempt suicide a gagillion times, drive
off a cliff once or twice, literally lose her daughter, bed down with Steven
(Blake Carrington's scandalously gay son), and even get shot, so my artistic
instincts say that Yuka should get the part in this new film since ladies who
are nutso tend to keep my attention for years on end, making them that much more
qualified for a two-hour departure about ghosts. Perhaps wisely, the director
chooses Nagissa instead, and once more people who are Claudia-level crazy are
relegated to entertain themselves (and me) by driving off of mountains to the
crescendo of incidental music.
I'm sure there's a great essay to be written about the concept of "J-Horror"
and, more precisely, the almost middle-of-the-road nature of the J-Horror
Theater of films, and what it says about the genre ten years after the boom
began. I'm not the person to write it though, because I lack the patience to
beat dead horses. I am interested, however, to see how this series plays out
(the next film in the series being Kiyoshi Kurosawa's critically lauded
Retribution), and to see if it overcomes what is, frankly, a pretty
mediocre showing to date. All the films are perfectly entertaining and great
little mind-numbing nuggets of scare cinema. But halfway through this concept
series, one can't help but wonder: what do these films represent? Are they truly
the very best in J-Horror? Or are they instead merely ambassadors for
an epoch in mediocrity and "sameness" as the catalogue of Japanese horror films
expands alongside the marketability of the genre abroad; that is, do they
rightfully reflect how watered-down the genre seems to be becoming? I'm not
sure, and I don't feel myself either informed or scholarly (or pretentious)
enough to espouse beliefs one way or the other. But I know very plainly what
people had hoped this series would bring with it, and what they instead
received. Them's the breaks.
Copyright(C) 2007 - 2020. All rights reserved.