Kairo

(Kiyoshi Kurosawa, 2001)

Ostensibly, this is a horror film about an overpopulated ghost realm spilling its occupants over into the real world. But the actual horrors with which Kurosawa is concerned appear to be far less supernatural: loneliness, isolation, social breakdown, and their relationships with technology. This makes Kairo one of the most highly metaphorical horror films you’re likely to see. For this reason, I have to say that I respected it. Whether I actually liked it is another question. The metaphysics underlying the story (i.e., how exactly the ghost realm and the real world are supposed to be interconnected) are virtually impenetrable; so it feels like fighting an uphill battle trying to figure what the hell is going on from one scene to the next. A large part of this is, undoubtedly, due to the film’s being steeped in cultural meanings and references that are bound to pass well below the radar of a Western viewer like myself. (According to this entry in Wikipedia, for example, Kairo is critiquing Japanese cultural trends such as Hikikomori and suicide pacts; a fact—if it is one—that I had no idea about when watching the film.)
On the whole, then, I feel obliged to blame myself rather than Kurosawa for the fact that I found his film difficult to like. I also find myself forced to re-evaluate my opinion of his more recent Rofuto (aka Loft), which I originally dismissed as total shit. I’m now more confident that Rofuto, like Kairo, is working on some highly figurative level as a statement about fears and obsessions the interpretation of which is heavily culture-dependent, and not at all easy for a Western audience to appreciate.*

Kairo @ IMDb (UK)

*Like several other recent J-Horrors, Kairo has been subject to a US remake. I haven’t seen it, so can only assume that the Japan-specific metaphors have been lost, and the plot has been rendered comprehensible for the average multiplex-going American. Would that mean I’d enjoy it more? Sadly, I fear the answer could be ‘yes’; but the real question is: would I respect myself in the morning?

King Kong

(2005, Peter Jackson)

A movie producer seeking an exotic island location discovers and captures a large ape which, when shipped to New York, escapes and has to be shot. Despite having a plot so pitifully thin, Jackson’s film spans no less than three mind-numbing hours of the viewer’s life. How is this unlikely feat achieved? Fight scenes: a ship’s crew fight tribespeople; the ape fights dinosaurs; dinosaurs fight each other; the ape fights the ship’s crew; the ship’s crew fight giant insects; the ape fights giant bats; the ship’s crew fight the ape (again); the ape fights the US military. All of which risible pointlessness is produced via extensive use of CGI—which, of course, means that hardly any of the objects on screen appear to be obeying the laws of physics. (In the old days of movie special effects, huge falling rocks were made from polystyrene. The problem was, they looked like they were made from polystyrene. Nowadays, huge falling rocks are made from computer graphics. The problem is, they look like they are made from polystyrene.) Kids will probably love it, and Empire readers will probably already own it in the form of some overpriced multi-disc ‘collector’s edition’ DVD package to be viewed on one of those vast plasma TVs which I can only assume are sold with free self-hypnosis kits (how else do people convince themselves the picture’s not shit?) Jack Black is wasted. Jackson should be ashamed of himself.

King Kong @ IMDb (UK)