Introduction

Ever since the release of Ring (1998), Sadako and her grudge has been edged in collective cinema consciousness. It is therefore not surprising that, many years after she appeared onto the silver screen,  that attempts are made to revive her for new generations.

This time around, Hisashi Kimura, a director who, in recent years, has started to direct feature films (Mask Ward (2020)) besides his usual work of director drama (e.g. 99.9 Criminal Lawyer (2016, 2018)) and Yuya Takahashi, a screenwriter who is most know for his contributions to certain drama-series (e.g. Aibu, Boys on the Run (2012), Mirror Twins (2019)) receive the honour to create a new Sadako-narrative. Yet, can they, given the radical transformation of the J-horror landscape and the diminished appeal of horror for Japanese audiences, offer a narrative that does right by Koji Suzuki’s brainchild?  

Review

Since the start of the year, there have been a string of mysterious deaths, a trail of bodies who suddenly died with a terrified expression. As these deaths are a viral sensation, a tv studio invites Ayaka Ichijo (Fuka Koshiba), a smart and popular graduate student, and Kenshin (Hiroyuki Ikeuchi), a popular medium, to discuss whether these peculiar events are due to a curse or can be explained scientifically. He scares the public by telling them that anyone who watches the cursed video only has 24 hours of life left.

After the television debate, Kenshin gives her a copy of the tape, challenging her to solve the mystery of the curse. While Ayaka has no plan to investigate the so-called cursed video, she is forced to solve its mystery when her sister Futaba (Yuki Yagi) watches the video out of mere curiosity. Not much later, she is joined by Oji Maeda (Kazuma Kawamura), who filmed how Ai-chan (-) succumbed to the curse with his phone.

Sadako DX has, due to being a sequel in a loosely linked series of films, a rather peculiar narrative structure. While Ring (1998) and Sadako 3D (2012) elegantly used the dimension of mystery to engage the spectator in its tale of horror, Kimura’s narrative avoids to obfuscate the dynamic of cursed video. Rather, screenwriter Yuya Takahashi takes into account that audiences know the basis premise of Sadako’s curse and offers, for those who forgot some of the details, a quick but well integrated outline in the first 20 minutes of the narrative – i.e. after watching the cursed video you have a certain amount of time to copy the video to ward of a gruesome death.   

Yet, does the initial lack of mystery complicates the horror-experience the narrative seeks to deliver? Yes and no. While Kimura and Takahashi succeed in inducing a decent quantum of uneasiness in the spectator – a quantum to be manipulated by the director with visual and auditive intrusions, by changing the nature of the cursed video-tape, they are unable to create a sense of urgency within their narrative. Despite some efforts to visually exploit the countdown of 24 hours, the characters that Takahashi created  – i.e. the cool-headed girl and the drama-queen, render such effort void. Moreover, the unexpected comical surges of drama disturb the whole atmosphere of uneasiness and complicates the very frame upon which horror needs to be staged.    

The way the mysterious deaths are reported on the news in Sadako DX vividly echoes how the proliferation of the corona virus has been reported in the media. Yet, even though the sudden escalation of this virus in the societal field could have played a role in motivating Kodakawa to revive and re-imagine Koji Suzuki’s horror classic, the viral nature of Sadako’s grudge was nevertheless an integral element in the original novel by Koji Suzuki.

In fact, the viral nature of Sadako’s grudge and the need to copy it to wards off a gruesome death are intrinsically linked with the societal critique that underpins Suzuki’s novel. The aspect of copying did not only echo the way a virus spread throughout the population, but also gave Sadako’s anger towards an abusive exploitative society riddled with preconceptions and prejudices a powerful voice.

Yet, by revealing that copying does not appease Sadako’s grudge anymore, Kimura does not merely re-introduce some form of mystery – what will ward off the curse?, but radically changes the nature of Sadako’s anger and the intent of her anger. In fact, he cuts out the whole societal critique that underpins Sadako’s anger and eradicates the persecutory and confronting dimension of her violent thirst.

Yet, the true failure of Sadako DX as horror lies not in the absence of such dimension, but in the attempt to combine various moods and too many characters together. The result is a narrative that lacks focus – there is little time to build-up the tension – and whose unsettling atmosphere is ripped apart by the unnecessary shifts in mood. The moments of horror are, more often than not, marked by the tinge of ridiculousness.

The lack of narrative focus is also evident in how the themes of Sadako DX are handled. While certain themes are introduced – the contemporary use of social media and our naive understanding of science, Takahashi fails to develop both in a meaningful way throughout the narrative. In his attempt to provide a bit of everything for the spectator, he forgot to give his narrative a core – all flesh, no bone.    

The visual emphasize on the use of social media and narrative use of the dynamic of the viral video could, for instance, have been utilized by Takahashi to question the superficial connections on the net, yet these elements remain underutilized. While Kenshin fears that the digitalization of the video-tape could lead to the rapid spread of the cursed imagery over the internet – something that, were it to happen, could lead to the end of humanity, Takahashi’s way of developing the story made sure that we cannot read Sadako DX as a critique of the way social media works and the dynamic of becoming viral.  

Sadako DX does question the simplistic and naive belief that science can and will always uncover the truth. The aim of such questioning is not to provide support for the superstitious belief that curses exist, but to underline that there is always something Real that escapes the symbolizing endeavour of the scientific discourse. Despite the naive hopes and wishes of the scientific field, it will never lead to a closed set or establish an all-encompassing unquestionable truth. Yet, such message is but a poor substitute for the very societal critique Sadako stands for. 

 

More than in any other genre, the enjoyment of a horror narrative is determined by its composition. A narrative that fails to create an unsettling atmosphere or struggles to heighten the tension within certain horror-sequences will dissatisfy the spectator who is hungry for some thrills and scares. Luckily, Hisashi Kimura knows that he is doing. He does not only elegantly disturb the mundane atmosphere by integrating intrusive close-ups and peculiar shot-compositions, he also trembles the mundane by his dynamic way of cutting and his integration of brief moments of television noise.

Yet, Kimura’s play with the visual field would not have been so effective in inducing a certain uneasiness in the spectator were it not for the effective manipulation of the auditive field – sounds and music are extremely important to heighten the unsettling quality of certain visuals.   To further tremble the mundane and thus echo the presence of something otherworldly, Kimura regularly overemphasize certain banal sounds (e.g. cutting of a egg sunny-side-up, …etc.) and decorates certain moments of everyday life with subtle but threatening music (Sound-note 1).

The colour and lightning design also plays its part in creating a visual frame upon which moments of horror can be painted. It is not that the slightly washed-out colour-gradations trouble the mundane as such, but how the faded nature of the visual coupled with the interplay of light and shadow allows Kimura to hint, at all times, at the ever-lurking presence that resides just behind the mundane veil.

Yet, as mentioned above, despite Kimura’s compositional efforts, the atmosphere is too often deflated by tonal shifts. Most shifts are due to the inclusion of a character that ‘successfully’ breathes comedy into the emotion of fear. Kazuma Kawamura’s over-acting, which will surely irritate a few spectators, radically disturbs the otherwise well-crafted ominous atmosphere and allows the spectator to release his/her uneasiness, thus rendering Kimura’s visual and auditive play less potent.    

Sadako DX is a nothing but a failed re-imagining of a classic horror-story. While Kimura shows that he can create a horror-atmosphere, the need to accommodate for various tonal shifts deflates any kind of uneasiness and dread he introduces. And while changing the nature of the curse could have been effective, the erasure of the social critique that Sadako embodies hollows out the narrative thematically and annuls the impact the film could have had the spectator.     

Notes

Sound-note 1: Kimura does utilize certain non-diegetic sounds of horror to heighten the impact of certain jump-scares on the spectator. Certain spectators might, of course, not like the inclusion of ‘cheap’ jump-scares.

Cine-note 1: Kimura does resort to some cheap tricks to heighten the horror atmosphere of his narrative. In the scene where Futaba, whose death is nearing, and her mother arrive home, the darkness lacks any kind of narrative meaning. The sole purpose of this darkness is to make the horror more effective and, in a certain sense, compensate for the comical disturbances in the atmosphere of the narrative.