Director Kiyoshi Kurosawa perfects the concept of hypnotic villainy in this film, which features a battle of wills between a detective and a genius who uses the power of suggestion to set in motion a series of killings throughout a city. Showcasing innovative suspense sequences, plot twists, and rich psychological/philosophical concepts, this film will have viewers pondering well after it ends. Kiyoshi again manages to elude the pitfalls of popular cinema to contribute not only a chilling masterpiece, but arguably one of the most awesome villains to ever grace the big screen.
Of the thousands of films I've seen, few have floored me to the point where I've wanted to grant them the honor of being the "Best Movie Ever." The only other film that comes to mind is "A Tale of Two Sisters" (2003), which is easily the most impressive motion picture of all time. Since that distinction is taken, that leaves "Cure" (1997) with the runner-up spot in terms of world cinema, but the medal for "Best Japanese Movie Ever" is still for the taking. This film takes it. I've seen 1,328 films from that country, and I can tell you that even Yasujiro Ozu and Shinya Tsukamoto have failed to match the brilliance of "Cure."
This is quite possibly the most engaging slow-paced film in existence. The tempo moves slower than molasses in January, but the introduction of the lead antagonist a mere 8 minutes into the film sets the seemingly endless array of intriguing moments into motion from the get go. Masato Hagiwara's character of Kunio Mamiya is spellbinding with his hypnotic technique that starts off with seemingly trivial dialogue but slowly progresses into an ingenious psychological trap. This provides for a number of memorable moments, my favorite of which is the mesmerizing water enchantment of the hospital nurse. In addition, the identity of this character is expertly crafted as a sort of ambiguous soul/personality whose essence is only truly revealed during the very last frame. No other film has created an antagonist so uniformly dangerous, sublime, and interesting as Kunio Mamiya.
Kiyoshi Kurosawa is easily one of the top five directors of all time. This guy made three perfect films that no one talks about – "Cure" (1997), "Kairo" (2001), and "Charisma" (1999). What's really interesting is that he follows a rather unique art-house style that's almost never applied to the horror/thriller genres. Kiyoshi uses long shots, deliberate pacing, and ambiguity in moderation, which is unlike most art-house directors who have no sense of discretion. Despite the mindless ramblings of mainstream cinemaphiles, Kiyoshi rarely (if ever) indulges in pompous, self-congratulatory filming techniques because his choice of lean running times (under two hours in almost every instance) helps him to avoid the bloated, masturbatory pretentiousness that rears its ugly head in other art-house style films. Think Andrei Tarkovsky with more interesting and refined philosophical content and you'll have an idea of just how special Kiyoshi Kurosawa is as a director.
Whenever possible, I like to point out the high content levels of Kiyoshi's films in an attempt to counter the nonsensical claims of some who feel that he practices a form of style over substance. Take the seemingly trivial dialogue that the Kunio Mimiya character engages in during his hypnotic acts of terrorism. The exchanges are an odd mix on a superficial level, but one comes to realize their importance when the victims are subjected to police interrogation. Only then does the viewer understand why Kunio fakes his amnesia (an attempt to elude his victims memories) and engages in circular question-begging. Also note the attention to details in other situations. Within the final 20 minutes we see Koji Yakusho in a quaint diner, but only upon further inspection do we realize that in one case his plate is filled with leftover food while in the other case it's licked clean, an important revelation of his essential change in character for the finale. And how about that final shot? This is just awesome cinema people. Magnificent.
In retrospect, "Cure" was the true beginning of the Japanese horror phenomenon that has followed it's release. While lacking in industry influence that has helped to establish Japanese horror in general (that nod goes to Nakata's "Ringu" of 1998), it provides a ground zero date for the turning of the tide so to speak. For all intents and purposes, Japanese horror has kicked everyone else's backside from 1997 onward. That said, I am truly unhappy that Kiyoshi chose to leave the genre for more dramatic fare because we're already inundated with enough art-house dramas to keep us busy. How many expertly crafted art-house horror films are there floating around today? Whatever the number, it's not nearly enough.
It's really too bad that good taste in film is practically extinct, because "Cure" should be one of those movies that everyone under the sun raves about until they're blue in the face. Kiyoshi isn't blessed with the lunatic fan base that follows guys like Akira Kurosawa or Andrei Tarkovsky. (Maybe I count as the first big fan of Kiyoshi.) It's a shame that he has established himself as an upper echelon filmmaker but somehow hasn't won over the majority of paid critics and film snobs who so easily drive the "emperor with no clothes" tide to coerce and guilt people into riding the bandwagons of lesser filmmakers.
In any case, "Cure" is the pinnacle of exceptional film-making. It's also Kiyoshi Kurosawa's best film, and that's saying something.
Of the thousands of films I've seen, few have floored me to the point where I've wanted to grant them the honor of being the "Best Movie Ever." The only other film that comes to mind is "A Tale of Two Sisters" (2003), which is easily the most impressive motion picture of all time. Since that distinction is taken, that leaves "Cure" (1997) with the runner-up spot in terms of world cinema, but the medal for "Best Japanese Movie Ever" is still for the taking. This film takes it. I've seen 1,328 films from that country, and I can tell you that even Yasujiro Ozu and Shinya Tsukamoto have failed to match the brilliance of "Cure."
This is quite possibly the most engaging slow-paced film in existence. The tempo moves slower than molasses in January, but the introduction of the lead antagonist a mere 8 minutes into the film sets the seemingly endless array of intriguing moments into motion from the get go. Masato Hagiwara's character of Kunio Mamiya is spellbinding with his hypnotic technique that starts off with seemingly trivial dialogue but slowly progresses into an ingenious psychological trap. This provides for a number of memorable moments, my favorite of which is the mesmerizing water enchantment of the hospital nurse. In addition, the identity of this character is expertly crafted as a sort of ambiguous soul/personality whose essence is only truly revealed during the very last frame. No other film has created an antagonist so uniformly dangerous, sublime, and interesting as Kunio Mamiya.
Kiyoshi Kurosawa is easily one of the top five directors of all time. This guy made three perfect films that no one talks about – "Cure" (1997), "Kairo" (2001), and "Charisma" (1999). What's really interesting is that he follows a rather unique art-house style that's almost never applied to the horror/thriller genres. Kiyoshi uses long shots, deliberate pacing, and ambiguity in moderation, which is unlike most art-house directors who have no sense of discretion. Despite the mindless ramblings of mainstream cinemaphiles, Kiyoshi rarely (if ever) indulges in pompous, self-congratulatory filming techniques because his choice of lean running times (under two hours in almost every instance) helps him to avoid the bloated, masturbatory pretentiousness that rears its ugly head in other art-house style films. Think Andrei Tarkovsky with more interesting and refined philosophical content and you'll have an idea of just how special Kiyoshi Kurosawa is as a director.
Whenever possible, I like to point out the high content levels of Kiyoshi's films in an attempt to counter the nonsensical claims of some who feel that he practices a form of style over substance. Take the seemingly trivial dialogue that the Kunio Mimiya character engages in during his hypnotic acts of terrorism. The exchanges are an odd mix on a superficial level, but one comes to realize their importance when the victims are subjected to police interrogation. Only then does the viewer understand why Kunio fakes his amnesia (an attempt to elude his victims memories) and engages in circular question-begging. Also note the attention to details in other situations. Within the final 20 minutes we see Koji Yakusho in a quaint diner, but only upon further inspection do we realize that in one case his plate is filled with leftover food while in the other case it's licked clean, an important revelation of his essential change in character for the finale. And how about that final shot? This is just awesome cinema people. Magnificent.
In retrospect, "Cure" was the true beginning of the Japanese horror phenomenon that has followed it's release. While lacking in industry influence that has helped to establish Japanese horror in general (that nod goes to Nakata's "Ringu" of 1998), it provides a ground zero date for the turning of the tide so to speak. For all intents and purposes, Japanese horror has kicked everyone else's backside from 1997 onward. That said, I am truly unhappy that Kiyoshi chose to leave the genre for more dramatic fare because we're already inundated with enough art-house dramas to keep us busy. How many expertly crafted art-house horror films are there floating around today? Whatever the number, it's not nearly enough.
It's really too bad that good taste in film is practically extinct, because "Cure" should be one of those movies that everyone under the sun raves about until they're blue in the face. Kiyoshi isn't blessed with the lunatic fan base that follows guys like Akira Kurosawa or Andrei Tarkovsky. (Maybe I count as the first big fan of Kiyoshi.) It's a shame that he has established himself as an upper echelon filmmaker but somehow hasn't won over the majority of paid critics and film snobs who so easily drive the "emperor with no clothes" tide to coerce and guilt people into riding the bandwagons of lesser filmmakers.
In any case, "Cure" is the pinnacle of exceptional film-making. It's also Kiyoshi Kurosawa's best film, and that's saying something.