Reviews of Recent Independent, Foreign, & Documentary Films in Theaters and DVD/Home Video
PULSE
After a young botanist suddenly commits suicide, his co-workers find in his
apartment a mysterious disk, a website URL, and a piece of paper with the
words "The Forbidden Room". Using his computer, they discover choppy webcam
films of their deceased friend standing, pacing, staring, and moving slowly.
One by one, all the co-workers succumb to their own isolation after being
psychologically tortured by the technology that surrounds and separates
them. As more and more online ghosts infuse listlessness in the living, the
more the living want to die. Soon, all of Tokyo is dead.
The most common argument differentiating Japanese from American horror is
that the American genre is based on shock value where its Japanese
counterpart is based on nuance. But this perspective is a bit lopsided. Just
because a film is not inundated with hungry zombie mobs does not mean it's
subtle nor does a zombie flick preclude subtlety. A film depicting the
Internet as an isolating vehicle that kills through supernatural loneliness
has little room for nuance, particularly when its characters basically
announce such metaphoric points out loud for those three members of the
audience who haven't caught on.
Pulse was released in Japan years before Ringu or Shou ji, and
began the "apocalyptic fables of millennial technology"
trend. Even so, Kiyoshi Kurosawa's premise feels pedantic in comparison to its
imitators. Although the death sequences are distinctive (like the
paralyzing face of a ghost, smiling, as it slowly emerges from behind a
couch), they become so overused after nearly two hours that Pulse starts to
resemble Ju-on with its tiring repetition.
On the other hand, Kurosawa instills his characters with depth and humor,
which has made his films stand out. Their humanity makes their helplessness
all the more horrific. And the film's expansive ending, as schlocky as the
special effects may be, is unusual enough to be unsettlingly memorable. The
narrator's seemingly innocuous last line yields a certain satisfaction in
its implications, making the viewer wish the preceding hours of dialogue
had held the same delicacy. It's a far cry from Kurosawa’s Cure and Seance,
but Pulse is still in a league so
far above The Fog and The Exorcism of Emily Rose it would
need binoculars just to know they were there. Zachary Jones
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