Page 177 - Nightmare Japan Contemporary Japanese Horror Cinema
P. 177

164                                           Nightmare Japan

                              impression  that  the  sky  is  consistently  overcast  –  a  thick  steam-white
                              glow that obscures far more than it reveals. Thus, throughout the film, the
                              settings go  ‘far  beyond  being  a  simple décor…to the  point  of becoming
                              characters  in  their  own  right,  breathing,  moving  and  living,  as
                              unpredictable  as any of  the  human  characters on  the  screen’  (Mes 2001:
                              para 6).
                                     Kurosawa’s  compositions  are  likewise  designed  to  heighten  the
                              film’s  theme  of  isolation  and  alienation.  When  more  than  a  single
                              character  occupies  a  shot  or  series  of  shots,  they  rarely  engage  in
                              prolonged  eye-contact,  even  when  conversing  with  one  another;
                              characters frequently speak to the backs of other characters’ heads or look
                              away  completely,  muttering ambiguous utterances like  ‘huh’, ‘hmm’ and
                              ‘oh’, or beginning sentences that end in mid-articulation, a verbal gesture
                              suggestive of a profound degree of distraction and disconnection. What’s
                              more,  Kurosawa  divides  his  figures  in  such  shots  not  only  through  the
                              calculated deployment of negative space (for instance, scenes  containing
                              two  or  more  characters  are  frequently  lensed  so  that  their  pronounced
                              physical  distance  from  one  another  accentuates  their  emotional
                              detachment),  but  also  through  the  use  of  strong  vertical  lines,  like
                              doorways  and  the  edges  of  walls,  conveniently  located  within  the  sets’
                              geography.  These  visual  arrangements,  in  turn,  strengthen  the  impact  of
                              the  rare  instances  where  characters  actually  reach  out  to  one  another  or
                              actually  make  physical  contact.  However,  carefully  executed  eye-line
                              mismatches  invest  even  these  moments  with  a  tone  of  almost
                              heartbreaking  estrangement.  So  powerful  are  these  compositions  that
                              when  characters  actually  touch  one  another,  these  otherwise  simple  and
                              tender gestures resonate with a sadness that, nevertheless, provides a brief
                              respite from the film’s dominant images of loneliness and disconnection.
                                     Furthermore,  by  combining  elements  of  the  Japanese  kaidan
                              tradition  with  cyberpunk  motifs,  including  the  transformation  of  the
                              corporeal  by  the  mechanical  and  the  ‘ghost  in  the  machine’  trope
                              popularised  by  cyberpunk  novels  like  William  Gibson’s  Neuromancer
                              (1984)  and  exceedingly  popular  science  fiction  anime  such  as  Oshii
                              Mamoru’s  Ghost  in  the  Shell  (1995),  Kairo  contributes  to  dystopian
                              visions  grounded  upon  the  paradoxically  alienating  impact  of  so-called
   172   173   174   175   176   177   178   179   180   181   182