Page 102 - Nightmare Japan Contemporary Japanese Horror Cinema
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Ghosts of the Present                                    89

                              corpse, its flesh slipping off her decaying skeleton in damp chunks as she
                              extends her arms and lurches forward, an infant’s wail emerging from her
                              darkened,  gaping  maw.  Rather  than  running  away,  Yoshimi  cradles
                              Mitsuko  in  her  arms.  In  a  powerful  medium-long  shot,  the  lift’s  doors
                              close, separating  Yoshimi  and  Mitsuko’s ghost  from  Ikuko’s  screaming,
                              tear-streaked face.
                                    As  powerful  as  any  scene  in  Nakata’s  breakthrough  international
                              sensation,  Ringu,  this  sequence  from  Dark  Water  likewise  deploys
                              elements  of  the  Japanese  kaidan  to  advance  a  consideration  of  shifting
                              socio-cultural  codes.  As  alluded  to  earlier,  Dark  Water’s  narrative
                              engages the impact of economic transitions on both conceptualisations of
                              the  Japanese  family  as  a  social  construct,  and  on  the  social  support
                              systems  (or  significant  dearth  thereof)  available  for  single  parents  in
                              general  and single  mothers in  particular.  It  is also  a sequence  that raises
                              several important questions. Given not only the film’s focus on the multi-
                              generational  ramifications  of  divorce  and  the  decline  of  the  traditional
                              Japanese  extended  family,  how  are  viewers  to  understand  Yoshimi’s
                              rejection of Ikuko in favor of Mitsuko? Additionally, what is the function
                              of  the  film’s  mysterious  epilogue  which  transports  the  film’s  spectators
                              ten years forward in Yoshimi and Ikuko’s lives?
                                    To  address  these  queries,  let  us  first  consider  in  some  detail  the
                              film’s puzzling dénouement. Following the title card that alerts us to  the
                              passage  of  time  within  the  film’s  narrative,  we  meet  a  sixteen  year  old
                              Ikuko  dressed  in  her  high  school  uniform  and  accompanied  by  two
                              friends.  As  they  walk  home  from  school  together,  they  pass  the
                              kindergarten  Ikuko  attended  when  she  was  six.  A  lone,  seemingly
                              forgotten  child  sits  on  the  ground  awaiting  the  arrival  of  her  parent,  an
                              image that  immediately  recalls both Yoshimi and Ikuko’s loneliness and
                              reiterates – if only momentarily  (for the lone  child’s parent soon arrives)
                              –  the  film’s  cyclical  theme  of  abandonment.  Though  we  quickly  learn
                              from Ikuko’s own words that she can barely remember the brief time she
                              spent  living  with  her  mother  while  her  parents  were  in  the  process  of
                              obtaining  a  divorce,  the  child’s  momentarily  disheartened  visage  has  a
                              profound emotional impact on Ikuko. She parts ways with her friends and
                              walks  to  the  apartment  building  she  shared  with  her  mother  ten  years
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