The film grossed ¥100,525,200 on its opening weekend in Japan and was sixth placed in admissions, with 81,867.[3] On its second weekend, it was in tenth place by admissions[4] and ninth place by gross, with US$471,477.[5] As of January 24, 2016, the film had grossed US$3.4 million in Japan.[2]
The title says it all in the latest psychological thriller from Japanese horror maestro Kiyoshi Kurosawa.
Not since “Bad Boy Bubby” has plastic wrap been put to such scary use on screen as it is in “Creepy,” Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s nail-biting thriller dominated by a psychopath who exerts a malevolent hold on his neighbors. Ostensibly a character study of skin-crawling weirdness, the film finds the Nipponese chiller-maestro exploring his favorite themes of familial discord and communication breakdown. But while some critics have hailed the pic as a return to Kurosawa’s earlier “straight” horror films, like “Pulse” or “Cure,” it in fact represents a conscious move away from past phantasmagoric stylizations to evoke the horrors of modern existence in plain sight and form. The result should creep into nearly every niche for Asian genre films.
Kurosawa shares writing credits with quirky indie helmer Chihiro Ikeda in this adaptation of Yutaka Maekawa’s award-winning mystery novel. As with “Penance,” working from an original literary source has helped steer the helmer away from the fuzzy endings that plague his own scripted works, and toward a tighter structure and punchier resolution.
Described as oni (demon) by one of his victims, the villain, who thrives on inciting others to violence, is presented as not quite human — either a mysterious disruptive force in society or an alter ego of other Kurosawa phantoms, like the screaming ghost in “Retribution.” Ironically, the film also implies that Japanese families are destroying each other without outside help, as evidenced by the wall of icy indifference that surrounds the protagonists in their genteel neighborhood. Loneliness breeds vulnerability to scams, bullying and brainwashing of a sort that’s endemic in Japan, of which the psychopath is a symbolic catalyst.
In a tense prologue, senior detective Koichi Takakura (Hidetoshi Nishijima) tries to use his theories on psychopaths to defuse a hostage situation, with disastrous consequences. A year later, he’s quit the force to take up a cushy position as a lecturer on criminology and moved into a suburban house with his pretty wife, Yasuko (Yuko Takeuchi), and big fluffy pooch, Max.
Yasuko goes out of her way to befriend the neighbors, who bluntly indicate they want to be left alone. The only exception is Nishino (Teruyuki Kagawa, “Penance,” “Tokyo Sonata”) from the secluded house next door. Hostile one minute and smarmy the next, he’s so inscrutable that even his teenage daughter, Mio (Ryoko Fujino), seems to recoil from his show of affection. One would think a well-bred bourgeois wife like Yasuko would run a mile from this weirdo, yet she keeps prying into his family life, and even invites him into her home.
Meanwhile, Takakura is approached by his former assistant Nogami (Masahiro Higashide) to help reopen a cold case from six years ago. Three members of the Honda family have disappeared without a trace or reason, leaving youngest daughter Saki (Haruna Kawaguchi) behind. They track down the teenage girl, who recalls that weeks before the incident, she’d overheard her parents talking on the phone in alternate tones of extreme elation and agitation, as if under hypnosis or a spell.
How these two plot strands eventually converge, in a ghastly denouement, hinges on a masterful buildup of esoteric clues, ominous atmospherics and inklings of doubt that the characters can’t quite put a finger on. For instance, Takakura’s hunch that the Hondas’ deserted house “looks like a crime scene,” even though no crime has been committed there, is echoed by Yasuko’s sense of something being amiss when she sets foot inside Nishino’s house. There’s also an uncanny resemblance between Saki and Mio, with their respective frightened-animal looks.
The horror finally spills out around 90 minutes into the film, and it’s guaranteed to make the sight of any large plastic bag utterly cringe-worthy. Notwithstanding various improbabilities — like how easy it is to evade the police, who never think of calling for reinforcements — the film supplies a headlong rush of tension and cruelty all the way to a gratifying final payoff.
Compared with most love relationships in Kurosawa’s oeuvre, in which male protagonists are either uncaring or murderous to their wives or girlfriends, the protagonists here seem to be an ideal couple; they spend quality time together and pick up on each other’s minor irritations. But the film reveals the cracks in their marriage so stealthily that it’s as shocking as any of the other plot twists when Yasuko says late in the yarn, “I have given up a lot a long time ago,” and her illogical behavior suddenly makes perfect sense.
Likewise, Takakura’s cool intelligence gradually comes to look more like a complacent over-reliance on academic theories (echoing Maekawa’s professor background), which are proven wrong again and again. It is only when he panics and surrenders to gut reactions that he notices his wife’s loneliness and desperation, which puts the film on the same emotional wavelength as “Tokyo Sonata,” “Real” and “Journey to the Shore,” all of which move toward healing rather than dredging up guilt and retribution like the works before them (“Penance” excluded).
Nishijima is a bit typecast as the handsome, courteous yet tightly wound professional, but he steps up emotionally in the brutal scenes. Lulling the audience into thinking hers is another stock portrayal of a classy, imperturbable beauty, Takeuchi unravels in enigmatic and gripping fashion, culminating in what sounds like the heart-rending howl of a wounded beast. During a lecture, Takakura tells students that among serial killers, one type is so erratic that it’s beyond analysis; Kagawa has a well-stocked cache of uncanny expressions to capture that unpredictable and repellent state, but his character is essentially a one-dimensional void.
Tech credits are seamlessly low-key, reflecting Kurosawa’s clear aesthetic decision to discard the formalist architecture of “Loft” and the stylized color play of “Cure” and “Retribution.” Akiko Ashizawa, who has lensed Kurosawa’s works since “Loft” (in which Nishijima also starred), composes clean, compact shots that deliberately downplay the danger and trauma at hand. Produciton designer Norifumi Ataka (“Norwegian Wood,” Kurosawa’s “The Seventh Code”) captures Tokyo suburban life with impressive verisimilitude, and with dirt and ugliness unceremoniously accumulating around the corners. Music and sound are never used to ramp up the horror factor, while deft touches, like a sudden dimming of lights, register with chilling impact. The film’s Japanese title translates as “Creepy: Fake Neighbor.”
Film Review: 'Creepy'
Reviewed at Berlin Film Festival (Berlinale Special Gala), Feb. 19, 2016. Running time: 130 MIN. (Original title: "Kuriipii: Itsuwari no rinjin")
Production
(Japan) A Shochiku Co., Asmik Ace release of a Shochiku Co., Kinoshita Group, Asmik Ace, Kobunsha, Asahi Shimbun, KDDI presentation of a Shochiku Studio production. (International sales: Shochiku Co., Tokyo.) Produced by Tadashi Osumi. Executive producer, Kota Kurota. Co-producers, Toshihiro Takahashi, Naoya Kinoshita, Shuichi Nagasawa, Nakayuki Dange, Yuichi Ichimura, Makoto Takahashi.
Crew
Directed by Kiyoshi Kurosawa. Screenplay, Kurosawa, Chihiro Ikeda, based on the novel by Yutaka Maekawa. Camera (color, widescreen, HD), Akiko Ashizawa; editor, Koichi Takahashi; music, Yuri Habuka; music supervisor, Mami Takaishi; production designer, Norifumi Ataka; set decorator, Naoki Yamamoto; costume designer, Kana Maruyama, Satoko Sato; visual effects supervisor, Shuji Asano; visual effects, Imagica; line producer, Akihisa Yamada; assistant director, Jun Umino.
Death Note: Light Up the New World is an upcoming film based on the Death Note franchise, slated for release on October 29, 2016. Set ten years after Death Note: The Last Name, it focuses on a police officer named Tsukuru Mishima, who finds himself caught in the conflict between a Kira-supporting cyberterrorist named Yuki Shien and a new "L" figure, calling himself Ryuzaki. In a Call Back to a one-off mentioned rule from the original manga, six Death Notes have entered the human world, the limit to how many are allowed at a time...
Death Note: Light Up the New World contains examples of the following tropes:
Art Evolution: Ryuk's new look for the movie. He looks noticeably sharper and more intimidating than previous appearances.
Dark Is Not Evil: While the amorality (or not) of his actions has yet to revealed, L's successor Ryuzaki is shown dressed all in black, contrasted with the white-clad antagonist Yuki Shien.
Light Is Not Good: The teaser poster depicts Big Bad Yuki Shien as dressed completely in white. Quite fitting, because he's imitating his predecessor Light Yagami, who was a literal embodiment of the trope.
Malevolent Masked Men: As L's successor, Ryuzaki may or may not share his predecessor's moral ambiguity, but is shown holding a mask on the first poster.
Mythology Gag: Yuki Shien is one. An antagonist who wears white? We're looking at you, Near. Ditto for L who is barefoot.
Reincarnation: Early promotional material states that Shien and Ryuzaki "inherited the DNA" of Light and L. Make of that what you will.
Role Reprisal: Erika Toda as Misa Amane and Shido Nakamura as Ryuk are confirmed to return for the movie.
Adapting his own novel, 'Hana and Alice' director Shunji Iwai approaches romance with newfound sense of cynical amusement.
Japanese director Shunji Iwai rudely tears up the phony promise of marriage and bourgeois life in “A Bride for Rip Van Winkle,” a cruel yet riveting tale of a young wife’s inexorable fall from grace once she succumbs to the Mephistophelean services of a shady Mr. Fix It. Artfully subverting the spirit of such soulful, diaphanous romances as “Love Letter” and “Hana and Alice” from earlier in his own career, Iwai exposes the desperation and deceit involved in the search for love. Opening in Taiwan and Hong Kong ahead of its domestic release, the film should appeal to Iwai’s enormous female fan base in Asia, though it would be hard to reproduce the roaring success of his earlier hits.
Adapted from Iwai’s own novel of the same name, the film is shot in 6K digital and comprises a three-hour “Director’s Cut” and a two-hour theatrical version. Only the longer version will screen domestically, while both prints are available selectively for overseas release. While the story’s relation to “Rip Van Winkle” possibly hinges on a bed scene in the denouement, the slumber motif remains open to more layered readings.
Like Irving Washington’s protagonist, who wakes up after a 20-year time slip to find himself a stranger in a hometown changed beyond recognition, the two female protagonists are also lonely misfits, struggling to survive without any financial or social safety net in an intimidating megalopolis. Alternatively, Van Winkle is also the alter ego of central figure Nanami (Haru Kuroki), who’s been sleepwalking through life as a straight-laced teacher and docile housewife, neither knowing what she wants nor daring to fight for anything. Ejected violently from her soulless existence, she wakes up to a brave new world where she gains friendship and confidence.
The film begins tellingly with Nanami standing alone in a thronging crowd in Shibuya like a little girl lost. She’s waiting for her blind date Tetsuo (Go Jibiki, “United Red Army,” Iwai’s “April Story”), who calls the shots via text messages. Though they only met online and have little in common except their shared profession as teachers, they soon decide to tie the knot. Nanami’s timid personality, combined with a faint voice, make her a natural target for students’ pranks and bullying by the faculty. Her addiction to online social network “Planet” suggests a need to let off steam through another identity.
As the engaged couple makes wedding preparations, their power balance looks ever more lopsided: While Nanami’s parents strain to put up a cordial front to hide their divorce from the posh in-laws, Tetsuo is unimpressed with her lack of a single relative or friend to invite to the banquet. Through her chat group, she is introduced to Amuro (Go Ayano), a self-proclaimed jack of all trades who offers to round up some actors to pose as her kin at the reception. Yet her union is steeped in deception, and Nanami soon begins to suspect Tetsuo of fooling around. She confides in Amuro, who briskly offers private eye services for a hefty sum.
From then on, her fate takes a steep downward turn as she finds herself gulled, wronged, castigated and humiliated. The serpentine plot that unfolds becomes as surreal as a David Lynch film, while pacing is coolly assured yet relentlessly suspenseful. Though Nanami’s tailspin is so sudden and dire it strains credulity, her decisions, no matter how foolhardy, can be attributed to her submissive and impressionable nature, as well as social isolation, all of which the script has carefully laid out from the outset.
Curiously, whatever calamity befalls Nanami, Amuro is always just around the corner to offer some consolation or a helping hand (for a fee, of course). Just as she hits rock bottom, he finds her a job as a live-in maid in an empty mansion, where her main duty is to take care of the owner’s rare and deadly poisionous “pets.” There, she befriends Mashiro (Cocco), fellow maid and actress-on-call. They drift into a liaison that’s sisterly as well as covertly erotic, spending their days trying on a titillating range of maid uniforms and fluffy bridal dresses.
These heavily-wrought scenes, full of soft focus and giddy rotating shots, conjure a mood that’s both cloying and macabre, transporting the story into realms of fairy tale and Victorian Gothic. Like the heroine of “Jane Eyre” or “Beauty and the Beast,” Nanami is also an ingenue sent to a creepy mansion to serve a dark, brooding master. But who is the house’s mysterious owner? And why is Mashiro’s “Planet” handle Rip Van Winkle? The revelation bears out the cleverness of the script.
Incidentally, Kuroki’s role is a composite of previous performances in other films, though this is arguably the most complex of the lot. While her voice is aggravatingly whiny, Kuroki makes her neurosis extremely tactile as she trembles like a willow at the slightest harsh word. As a counter figure to Nanami, Cocco draws from her maverick background as a folk-rocker-writer-dancer to imbue Mashiro’s high-strung temperament with a fiery will.
However, the most intriguing character may be Amuro, whose motives remain impenetrable till the end. Hirono’s ordinary looks make his designs, when revealed, all the more ambiguous. Like the salesman who can talk a bird down from a tree, the thesp slyly keeps one wondering if he’s been gaslighting Nanami all along.
As befits a style doyen like Iwai, craft contributions are exquisite but on-the-nose. Under the lensing of Chigi Kanbe, the camera seems to float around in mid-air but he overdoes the slow motion and rotating shots, pushing the protagonists’ trauma to a shrill melodramatic level in certain scenes. Likewise, Mako Kuwabara’s score repeats J.S. Bach’s Orchestral Suite No. 3 in D major, BWV 1068 and Cantata, BWV 147 ad nauseum.
A Bride for Rip Van Winkle
Reviewed at The Grand Cinema, Hong Kong, March 17, 2016. Running time: 179 MIN. (Original title: "Rippu ban winkuru no hanayome")
Production
(Japan) A Toei Co. release of a Rockwell Eyes, Nippon Eiga Special Channel, Toei Co., Pony Canyon, Hikari TV, Kinoshita Group, BS Fuji TV, Papado presentation of a Rockwell Eyes production. (International sales: Toei Co., Tokyo.) Produced by Shunji Iwai, Tomoyuki Miyagawa, Masashi Mizuno, Muneyuki Kii. Executive producer, Shigemichi Sugita.
Crew
Directed, written by Shunji Iwai, based on his own novel. Camera (color, widescreen), Chigi Kanbe; music/music supervisor, Mako Kuwabara; production designer, Kyoko Heya; costume designer, Hiromi Shintani; sound (Dolby Atmos); casting, Sakae Mizuno.
With
Haru Kuroki, Go Ayano, Cocco, Go Jibiki, Hideko Hara, Soko Wada, Tomoko Mariya, Akio Kaneda, Ririi.
