Ju-On, Katsumi & 4444444444: The Impact and Iconography That Changed Horror
While technically starting its life as two short segments, Katsumi (In A Corner) and 4444444444 (Ten Fours) in the anthology film Gakkō no Kaidan G, the origins of the Ju-On series is described as a single story that has a division into four different productions. The first two being the shorts previously mentioned, the third being the first full-length feature in the series, titled as Ju-On and the fourth being its companion piece and pseudo-sequel, Ju-On 2.
Now, it is understandable if someone feels overwhelmed and confused about which four of these productions they should start at. The answer is more straightforward than one can anticipate, and that is: any of them. The chronology of the first four Ju-On productions live in such conjunction to each other that if someone watched one film first and any other later, the first viewing would create a perfect setup for the events and revelation of the second.
Even with the confusion about its beginnings out of the way, one might still feel a certain hesitation towards watching these 20-year-old low budget horror features, but they truly should not. If there is anything that early Ju-On films prove is that: to achieve screams and emotional response from the audience, you don’t need a flashy budget or even an excellent camera. The only thing they need is to create a foreboding sense of unease that, even with a relatively simple story told in a cross-cultural context, manages to keep its viewers awake at night whilst also making them think about its various themes and subtexts.
This is especially true for the first two short films, where director Takashi Shimizu takes the context of everyday life — like school chores in Katsumi or phone calls in 4444444444 — and twists it with a presentation that, in the beginning feels like a homemade movie but, as soon as it reveals its supernatural happenings, a particular, uncanny valley of movie presentation emerges. Consequently, a feeling of a homemade presentation evaporates and a sense of real-life haunting grips the viewer as if the situation is unfolding beneath their own naked eyes. The minimalistic use of music alongside a simplistic yet effective cinematography by Takahide Shibanushi and Nobuhito Kisuki also helps further the immersion. The environmental sounds and basic visuals provide a perfect geographical feel of the location and when a ghostly croak intrudes on that feeling, it becomes panic-inducing — especially when the viewer cannot determine the direction of this supernatural intrusion.
These immersive techniques are further exemplified in Ju-On 1 and 2, where the now-famous Saeki house comes into play. Ask any Ju-On fan how the house looks and they would likely be able to draw a highly detailed diagrammatic blueprint of it— complete with the location of the dining table, Kayako's diary and the bathtub — just from memory alone because Shimizu ensures that the viewer has a cohesive exploration of the place simply by the setup of the scares. This is especially impressive as most of horror movies rely on confusing and alienating their viewers to their characters for an uneasiness effect. However, Shimizu avoids that concept by making sure the audience feels that the house is their own, so when the hauntings finally happen, the audience and the characters together experience a feeling of intrusion — when ironically enough, it is the other way around.
This style of presentation also translates into its story. As mentioned before, the Ju-On series has a pretty discontinuing style of storytelling, where the audience is left to rely on their intuition in order to create a sensible chronology. This style in any other film would have caused discomfort and annoyance, but not in these films. Part of the enjoyment in the series comes from the active participation that the audience has with the story where — despite the story in itself being reasonably simple to understand — the main surprise and sense of accomplishment comes when, with the help of the provided hints, the viewer finally understands the whole plot. This also effectively communicates the mood of this world, making one realize that it’s not just scary but tragic too.
Taking all of these effects into consideration reveals both the genius of director Takashi Shimizu and the iconography of these first few entries in the Ju-On series itself. Where, despite some considerable obstructions regarding the budget and the simplicity of their story, the newly and yet to be replicated style of storytelling in these horror films allows them stand out from the crowd; providing evidence to their contribution to the history of horror movies, so that despite the series’ older age the movies are still enjoyably scary to both casual and hardcore audiences alike