Shikoku

On the island of Shikoku a mother wants to revive her deceased daughter, so she can inherit her place as the next high priestess. As a result, dark powers are being awakened that have been sealed for many years to keep the dead from inhabiting it.
The story begins with three childhood friends who live on the island called Hinako, Fumiya and Sayori. One day Hinako spies through a crack in the door, something happening to Sayori. It is a Shinto ceremony of some sort, alluding to the opening scenes of a girl being what looks to be exorcised. Sayori makes Hinako promise not to tell anyone what she has seen, not even Fumiya, threatening to end their friendship if she does. This won’t matter much anyway as Hinako is soon to move away from the island, leaving her friends and the memory of this event in the past.

After Hinako’s departure the subsequent scene shows her returning as an adult in the hope of reuniting with her old friends. Having seen a peer from her school days, Hinako (Yui Natsukawa) is told that Fumiya (Michitaka Tsutsui) still lives on the island but Sayori (Chiaki Kuriyama) has passed away in a drowning “accident” that happened whilst in High School. It is from this point that things start to get a little strange in Shikoku as Sayori makes her ghostly presence known to Hinako, haunting her till she is given corporeal form by her mother’s pilgrimage to all 88 temples to restore her.

The island of Shikoku is like a microcosmic world of its own, steeped in folklore and tradition and disconnected from the modern Tokyo lifestyle, which Hinako returns from when she revisits her childhood home after the fifteen or sixteen years that it has been. It is a place that houses a portal in a cave beyond a gate that the villagers are afraid to go through because it gives access to an underworld called ‘Yomi’, where it is said that the dead still have bodies. It is here that Sayori’s mother will end her pilgrimage, with the agenda of resurrection in mind.

The story, sound effects, location and architecture reminded me very much of the Project Zero/Fatal Frame computer game trilogy. The story that ran through this game series dealt also with the occult in Japanese superstition and folklore including shrine maidens who were sacrificed in villages and ghosts in kimonos who sauntered around haunted mansions begging to be reunited with lost loves, whilst you the player investigated the mystery behind it all (with a camera as a weapon...cool no?). In fact the resurrection of Sayori leaves her in a similar kimonoed state as these ghosts, in search of Fumiya who she loves, pleading with him in a very languid and delicate manner as she slowly approaches. There are plenty of shrines and temple like buildings amongst the valleys, forests and rivers within the shanty towns of Shikoku. Pastures that intertwine with roads, dirt paths and gates all bear resemblance to the design in Project Zero. The film is even haunted by the meticulous light clicking of ceremonial bells and chanting every now and then, to create a seance like ambiance. However these similarities are probably not that unique as I’m sure that such characteristics are inherent in this style of ghost story; nevertheless it needed to be acknowledged.

The film isn’t really a horror though it does have all the elements that you’d expect from one such as the suspenseful investigation of the folklore through journals and interviews, that don’t do too badly in trying to follow in the footsteps of Ringu. However Shikoku doesn’t have the tension, the sense of foreboding or the intrigue that Ringu did not only because the storytelling wasn’t as interesting, but also the cinematography was not bleak like Ringu which gave it its power. Having said that, the cinematography in Shikoku is beautiful, especially the last scenes of the film. The lighting is magnificent whether it is beams of light breaking through the glades, the flickering shimmering reflections of the ponds and rivers on the characters, the apparitional pale blue hues that glow from Sayori (remember Mr Burns in The Springfield Files), the orange torch light and other artificial light that illuminates eerie contrasts with the blues and turquoises, all of which emphasise characters or ceremonies and create a really moody and hypnotic fantasy effect. The camerawork is also nice, positioned to give the feeling that Sayori is watching Hinako and Fumiya from beyond the grave, whether it be nestled in a tree, creeping up behind them or peering round from a corner.

Being not much of a horror horror, what is it? To me it seemed like a story about friendship and memories; the melancholy that comes with being nostalgic and the laying to rest of “demons” that plague those who have been killed before their time, such as Sayori or have uncauterised emotional ties such as Hinako. It is also about a sincere romance that develops, between Hinako and Fumiya, from a friendship that doesn’t seem to have been weathered by absence or time. It builds up subtly and even the intimate scenes are not overdone or exploited for shock value. It’s as though by uniting themselves they can move on from Sayori’s death, unfortunately this seems to only incite jealousy in her, which produces the dramatic tension of the film’s conclusion.

Finally, reasons to watch are for the great location, cinematography, authentic mythic ambiance and of course Chiaki kuriyama’s short but sharp performance as (adult) Sayori, who you may remember as Gogo Yubari from Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill.