To repeat the warning, this review is primarily about the spoilers.
The 'Masters of Horror' anthology on Showtime has been wildly uneven in both of its seasons. For every triumphant blend of dread and disgust ('Cigarette Burns' by John Carpenter), there has been one or two incredibly silly or boring entries ('Deer Woman' and 'Chocolate' come to mind). The excitement of the first-season inclusion of Takashi Miike, a newly discovered legend known in America primarily for his cringe-inducing horror movies, was quickly tempered by his disappearance from the website and the television schedule.
After seeing the unrated cut on DVD, I can see why Showtime--not exactly a network that shies away from shock value or graphic images--declined to air it. If you are person with a premium cable package, these are not images you want to come across as you flip through the channels. I think it is entirely appropriate to release on DVD, especially in the age of Netflix, because this is material that should be sought out and chosen, not stumbled across.
There is an elegance and lyric poetry to some of the most gruesome images in 'Imprint'. The fetuses that float along with the current call to mind that air-blown plastic sack from 'American Beauty,' and of course Miike's image of 'trash' being swept along was much more unnerving. A romantic film would have shown a fallen leaf caught in the current in exactly the same way. Horror is much more disturbing when it is presented as something lovely.
Another scene of beauty mixed with profoundly disturbing actions was Komomo's torture sequence. If you were able to keep your eyes open as the camera zoomed in on each fingernail showing a contained burst of blood from a stabbing needle, you might have noticed the mesmerizing motion of redness that crept out like a drop of ink in water. When the madam was finished shoving needles all through her, Komomo hung from the ceiling in a freakishly graceful folding circle, like a Chinese acrobat from Cirque du Soleil, spinning in a suspended hoop, the light catching her as she slowly swayed, looking like a dreamcatcher ornament.
The elegance of its concept, the beauty of its visuals - the great elements here were hampered by a few bad decisions. First, this should have been in Japanese with subtitles. Americans can handle subtitles on television--like those in 'Lost' or 'Heroes'--and to make this an English-language piece cast with actors who did not know any English, from a director who is not fluent, made the entire piece seem like bad acting with all of the misplaced emphases and mangled pronunciations. This movie was best when no one spoke. If the English was a jab at 'Memoirs of a Geisha', it hurt 'Imprint' more than helped it. Plus, subtitles would have made who said what instantly clear. I spent a great deal of time rewinding to try to catch what one person or another mumbled.
The other misfire is the parasitic twin sister. The 'X-Files' has done this sort of makeup and special effects better (remember the killer parasitic twin in the freak-show retirement village?). I could not get past how ridiculous it looked for this perfectly disturbed, disheveled enigmatic Japanese whore to have a red rubber Muppet stuck to her head. Its mouth did not move in sync with its voice. The eyes and teeth looked like a Garbage Pail Kids card. There was no glistening wetness to soften the molded-latex look. I could not latch onto any sense of how horrifying or symbolic the sister was, and I tried very, very hard.
One good decision was that Miike apparently used his own crew. In the credits at the beginning of almost every other installment of the anthology, the same people are listed as production designers, makeup artists, and other crew. Consequently, the genre-inappropriate scenery, lighting, and visuals undermined the tone in almost every one. Only a handful of the 'Masters of Horror' episodes set the appropriate mood visually. The rest seemed garishly noontime bright, set in cheesy-fake backlot 'suburbia,' and many of the elements that were meant to be creepy or scary just came off as hokey. The production design consistently looked like a Sandra Bullock romantic comedy, not a no-holds-barred horror vignette. 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer,' which also lacked the luxury of a feature-film budget, set mood and tone very well, so it can be done. Thank god Miike kept his team intact, and kept control over costumes, makeup, lighting, and set design.
I wonder if the Red Head Muppet was some American's doing. "Hey, Takashi, we love the sister-emerging-from-her-scalp thing, and we've got a great puppeteer who will make it look better than 'Gremlins', just take it to the next level--people will be going 'ew, what is that?' It will be awesome!"
Oh, and the perfect details? All of the rotten teeth on display, and the dwarf who was missing a chunk of her nose. That's how you take a potentially boring expository sequences from sleep-inducing to fascinatingly nauseating. Any time a director can skillfully build the tension between I-don't-want-to-look-at-that and Dear-lord-I-can't-look-away, he has control over the audience's emotions.
The 'Masters of Horror' anthology on Showtime has been wildly uneven in both of its seasons. For every triumphant blend of dread and disgust ('Cigarette Burns' by John Carpenter), there has been one or two incredibly silly or boring entries ('Deer Woman' and 'Chocolate' come to mind). The excitement of the first-season inclusion of Takashi Miike, a newly discovered legend known in America primarily for his cringe-inducing horror movies, was quickly tempered by his disappearance from the website and the television schedule.
After seeing the unrated cut on DVD, I can see why Showtime--not exactly a network that shies away from shock value or graphic images--declined to air it. If you are person with a premium cable package, these are not images you want to come across as you flip through the channels. I think it is entirely appropriate to release on DVD, especially in the age of Netflix, because this is material that should be sought out and chosen, not stumbled across.
There is an elegance and lyric poetry to some of the most gruesome images in 'Imprint'. The fetuses that float along with the current call to mind that air-blown plastic sack from 'American Beauty,' and of course Miike's image of 'trash' being swept along was much more unnerving. A romantic film would have shown a fallen leaf caught in the current in exactly the same way. Horror is much more disturbing when it is presented as something lovely.
Another scene of beauty mixed with profoundly disturbing actions was Komomo's torture sequence. If you were able to keep your eyes open as the camera zoomed in on each fingernail showing a contained burst of blood from a stabbing needle, you might have noticed the mesmerizing motion of redness that crept out like a drop of ink in water. When the madam was finished shoving needles all through her, Komomo hung from the ceiling in a freakishly graceful folding circle, like a Chinese acrobat from Cirque du Soleil, spinning in a suspended hoop, the light catching her as she slowly swayed, looking like a dreamcatcher ornament.
The elegance of its concept, the beauty of its visuals - the great elements here were hampered by a few bad decisions. First, this should have been in Japanese with subtitles. Americans can handle subtitles on television--like those in 'Lost' or 'Heroes'--and to make this an English-language piece cast with actors who did not know any English, from a director who is not fluent, made the entire piece seem like bad acting with all of the misplaced emphases and mangled pronunciations. This movie was best when no one spoke. If the English was a jab at 'Memoirs of a Geisha', it hurt 'Imprint' more than helped it. Plus, subtitles would have made who said what instantly clear. I spent a great deal of time rewinding to try to catch what one person or another mumbled.
The other misfire is the parasitic twin sister. The 'X-Files' has done this sort of makeup and special effects better (remember the killer parasitic twin in the freak-show retirement village?). I could not get past how ridiculous it looked for this perfectly disturbed, disheveled enigmatic Japanese whore to have a red rubber Muppet stuck to her head. Its mouth did not move in sync with its voice. The eyes and teeth looked like a Garbage Pail Kids card. There was no glistening wetness to soften the molded-latex look. I could not latch onto any sense of how horrifying or symbolic the sister was, and I tried very, very hard.
One good decision was that Miike apparently used his own crew. In the credits at the beginning of almost every other installment of the anthology, the same people are listed as production designers, makeup artists, and other crew. Consequently, the genre-inappropriate scenery, lighting, and visuals undermined the tone in almost every one. Only a handful of the 'Masters of Horror' episodes set the appropriate mood visually. The rest seemed garishly noontime bright, set in cheesy-fake backlot 'suburbia,' and many of the elements that were meant to be creepy or scary just came off as hokey. The production design consistently looked like a Sandra Bullock romantic comedy, not a no-holds-barred horror vignette. 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer,' which also lacked the luxury of a feature-film budget, set mood and tone very well, so it can be done. Thank god Miike kept his team intact, and kept control over costumes, makeup, lighting, and set design.
I wonder if the Red Head Muppet was some American's doing. "Hey, Takashi, we love the sister-emerging-from-her-scalp thing, and we've got a great puppeteer who will make it look better than 'Gremlins', just take it to the next level--people will be going 'ew, what is that?' It will be awesome!"
Oh, and the perfect details? All of the rotten teeth on display, and the dwarf who was missing a chunk of her nose. That's how you take a potentially boring expository sequences from sleep-inducing to fascinatingly nauseating. Any time a director can skillfully build the tension between I-don't-want-to-look-at-that and Dear-lord-I-can't-look-away, he has control over the audience's emotions.