Page 57 - Nightmare Japan Contemporary Japanese Horror Cinema
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44                                            Nightmare Japan

                              extreme  and,  at  times,  so  clumsily  constructed  that  its  appeal  initially
                              seems limited to audiences composed of spectators longing for over-the-
                              top  displays  of  blood  and  gore.  It  is  precisely  this  inconsistent  and
                              amateurish approach, however, that renders the film’s politics practically
                              transparent.  Consider,  for  instance,  the  film’s  central  protagonist,
                              Hideshi. Both ineffectual in his coworker’s eyes and the continued target
                              of his employers’ ire, Hideshi withdraws from his exploitative office job,
                              but  his  absence  goes  largely  unnoticed.  Sequestering  himself  within  his
                              cramped  apartment,  Hideshi  fantasises  about  his  superiors’  disgust  and
                              worries that he  may disappoint  his father.  In  short,  he  chafes  against  his
                              position  as  little  more  than  a  superfluous  cog  in  a  larger  capitalist
                              machine,  a  status  confirmed  by  an  error  message  that  flashes  on  his
                              computer screen: ‘no value’.
                                     Images  of  impotence  recur  throughout  Hideshi’s  daily  attempts
                              at  physical  self-destruction,  wedding  his  feelings  of  uselessness  inside
                              and  outside  of  the  work  place  with  a  larger  perceived  crisis  in
                              masculinity. In an especially revealing sequence approximately half-way
                              through  the  film,  Hideshi  imagines  a  discussion  between  three  young
                              women  who  work  in  his  office.  Lensed  as  if  responding  to  off-camera
                              questions and choreographed to intensify their  comic impact, the women
                              muse  about  waning  notions  of  traditional  Japanese  masculinity  in  a
                              culture dominated by business and industry, as well as the rigid corporate
                              hierarchies such convoluted interpersonal relationships may engender:

                                Girl #1: You know? How can I say this? It will not be of interest to a person
                                without talent.

                                Girl  #2:  There  are  no  attractive  men  in  this  company.  No  men  good  for
                                anything. I’ll never marry a man who works for the company.

                                Girl  #3:  But  I  don’t  feel  good  in  Japan,  do  you?  It’s,  how  should  I  say,  the
                                complicated human relationships.

                              Taken  together,  these  comments  (whether  we  understand  them  as  a part
                              of the ‘real world’ of the film or as a figment of Hideshi’s ‘imagination’)
                              paint  an  unflattering  portrait  of  life  during  the  height  of  the  Japanese
                              ‘bubble  economy’.  They suggest that the social  climate  produced  by the
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