Pulse

The philosophical premise of Kairo is nihilism expressed through loneliness. The superficial "connections" that one sustains with other people are conveyed as brittle, meaningless trivialities that shatter when confronted with the relentless isolation that exists on a much deeper level. Not one person is murdered in this 119 minute film for the very fact that the victims are consumed with a sense of eternal loneliness - many times caused by seeing spirits - and therefore take their own lives. There are no cheap scares in this picture, as it relies on disturbing, long-sustained images highlighted by awkward ghost movements. Classic scenes and imagery abound in this tour de force directed by Kiyoshi Kurosawa. Kiyoshi is a criminally unknown director who is undoubtedly the single best filmmaker in the history of horror cinema. Unfortunately, many people confuse greatness with influence. Hideo Nakata is not a great director, but he did influence the entire film-making industry with Ringu. Kiyoshi Kurosawa, on the other hand, just makes great films - Kairo, Cure, Charisma, Retribution, Séance, Loft, etc. That's the essential difference between excellence and mere market influence. Now, Kiyoshi does get some respect from both moviegoers and critics alike, but there are some common complaints that I would like to address in conjunction with this review of Kairo. The most outrageous criticism of Kiyoshi is that his films lack content. This is a patently false (and downright ridiculous) claim that holds no weight whatsoever. Taking Kairo as an example, there are a number of subtle references to LONELINESS throughout the entirety of the film - the literal isolation of characters, the individual dots expressed within the computer program, the patterns of dissolved ash, the influence of communication and information through both ghostly apparitions as well as red tape, apocalyptic doom, suicide, character mannerisms and interrelationships, etc. In other words, there's a boatload of content in Kairo. Those who say otherwise have no idea what they're talking about. This structure of film-making is one thing that makes Kiyoshi so amazing. He takes a simple concept like loneliness and creates a constellation of phenomena that reference back to the underlying theme of the film. The same is true with Cure (identity), Charisma (false dichotomies, relationship between the individual and society), Retribution (memory), Loft (memory), and others. It's a fascinating method of storytelling that's so much fun to watch despite the glacial pacing from which it's presented. Don't fool yourself: the entertainment value of Japanese horror is frequently about content, and Kairo is a perfect horror movie largely because of its philosophical elements. How many other films can make the same claim? What more do you people want? How the massive quantity of content within Kiyoshi's cinematic portfolio goes unnoticed is beyond me. The only possible explanation is that his stunning talent for creating dense atmosphere leads some viewers to overlook his content. Still, there's no excuse for missing it, especially considering how badly made dramas get all sorts of credit where none is due. For example, there are tons of reviews for Tsai Ming-liang's dreadfully atrocious Viva L'Amour that gloat about that movie's depiction of solitude. I read these reviews with the knowledge that Kairo gets little to no credit for its truly amazing portrayal of loneliness. The whole scenario makes me want to puke. Another criticism of Kiyoshi is that his films are "self-indulgent." What a load of twaddle coming from reviewers who consider Akira Kurosawa to be the best thing since sliced bread. Anyone dim-witted enough to claim that Akira Kurosawa's Dreams is less indulgent than Kairo should immediately check themselves into a mental institution. So Akira gets a free pass at self-masturbatory cinema because some Californian bloodsuckers propped him up on an undeserving pedestal? You people are a joke. From the standpoint of sheer directorial precision and scriptwriting, Akira doesn't even deserve to sniff Kiyoshi's jockstrap. Then we have all sorts of assertions that say Kiyoshi's films are slow and boring, but most of these comments are made by Hollywood fanboys who drool over rat-infested garbage like Friday the 13th, Freddy vs. Jason, and Alien vs. Predator. I would expect this reaction from those with such narrow-minded "tastes" in film. Just leave the intelligent horror cinema to the big boys and go back to worshipping overrated hacks like Wes Craven. But that's not all. We have even more ludicrous complaints coming from Westerners like, "The Japanese take their horror films too seriously." I laugh when hearing stuff like this. God forbid someone actually puts some effort into making a horror film. Has the Hollywood horror industry really crumbled to the point where even their most fervent followers don't expect anything remotely ambitious? That's a pretty pathetic state to be in. The point of this review-turned-rant is to simply point out the obvious: Kiyoshi Kurosawa is the greatest horror filmmaker that ever lived. It might just be my opinion, but considering how any and all criticism seems to be based on illogic or narrow-mindedness, there's really no valid reason for believing otherwise.

This movie is masterful. The first time I watched it, I barely paid attention because I was multitasking. With it having subtitles and not understanding what was being said along with looking away from the tv periodically it seemed somewhat bland just from the visuals but then the first scary scene happened. The pacing, soundtrack and general ambience of it was very unsettling. It was like I was experiencing someone's nightmare. After that scene I paid more attention but kept multitasking and then another scene that generated the same feeling. I watched the film again and paid more attention and it got better. Within 2 days I watched it 3 times. I never do that with films. It's not an in your face type scary, no shock value. It's foreboding, empty, lonely. It's that feeling when you walk into an empty house you don't want to be in and you have to stay. It's the waiting, wondering of what could happen. Time dwindles away slowly and your imagination is left to it's own devices. The ghosts in this film are very unnerving and I won't go into detail why. I've never seen a film that had this kind of eerie ambience. Sometimes it makes sense and others I'm left wondering "what was that part all about". It's a film that should be watched several times to fully grasp. You are not told what to think. You are given opinions by the characters. Their individual experiences of the surreal which it only gives it more of a dream like quality. Sometimes a good movie doesn't make you feel good, it just gives you profound feelings.

𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒂𝒔... 𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔. 𝑷𝒖𝒍𝒔𝒆 is a 2001 Japanese techno-horror film written and directed by Kiyoshi Kurosawa. After college student, Taguchi, dies by suicide, a number of young adults living in Tokyo witness terrifying visions transferred across the Internet. As more people disappear throughout the city, the Internet becomes a breeding ground for malevolent spirits. Three seemingly disconnected stories follow Michi, Ryosuke and Harue as they attempt to solve the mystery behind the ghostly visions that are seeping beyond their computer monitors. If statistics alone or any indication, residency in Japan can be detrimental to one's mental health, and with grave consequences. It is approximated that seventy people in Japan die by suicide every day, and when accounting for population differences it has the second highest rate of suicide among the G7 developed nations. In this area of the world suicide has always happened at a rate barring it as a “major social issue”, but in 1998 things were different, and not for the better; 1997 saw the beginning of a ‘Asian Financial Crisis’ that began in Thailand and spread to other countries in this region, and contributed to one of the most dramatic increases in suicides completed in Japan particularly in a single year with it peaking in 2003. This information alone does little to justify to what end 𝑷𝒖𝒍𝒔𝒆 amplifies the impact of suicidal ideation, with its apocalyptic imagery leaving viewers with a bit of a disjunct mess; this is easily informed, however, by cultural attitudes in Japan as they pertain to suicide (As, historically, some suicides have been endorsed as honorable in the context of military conflict) and policies that could be used to relieve a family of economic hardship (IE, the tendency for lifes insurance plans in Japan to ‘pay-out’ claims after an insured dies by suicide without restrictions) that ultimately create a web of obligation for individuals in a given dynamic where the risk of suicide being attempted is especially high. As with many social issues, the elevated rate of suicide as it involves Japan is attributable to multiple factors at play, technological advances being one of many that murk the waters further. A little bit on the nose in regards to its musings on disconnect in the digital age, the juxtaposition managed by 𝑷𝒖𝒍𝒔𝒆 is fraught: amassing by its conclusion an ironic association between the tools its characters have at their disposals that can be used to form meaningful relationships with like-minded individuals in a virtual space and a palpable sense of loneliness. Bearing in mind that 𝑷𝒖𝒍𝒔𝒆 also came out shortly after the first social media platform in the format most familiar to us today was created, its implications specific to this sort-of “ecosystem” and the thematic appeal of suicidal ideation proves especially topical; the first documented use of the internet exclusively to form anything resembling a ‘suicide pact’ was reported in Japan in the year 2000, leaving its government with the challenge of assessing the risk of suicide amongst its youth more effectively and intervening in ways that could be both accessible and creative. Whether 𝑷𝒖𝒍𝒔𝒆 captures the essence of preventive measures in this regard is largely up to debate (As the literal application of red tape to the outside of doors that shouldn’t be open is metaphorically relevant), but that perhaps goes without saying. Ghosts are, likewise, an unexplainable phenomenon that when utilized in stories often reveal something about a nations’ view about them and the afterlife. Typically, Western iterations of them depict ghosts as attached to “unfinished business” that has been left earthside following someone’s death, with Eastern counterparts frequently tied to the importance of familial connections and a sense of community. While the dynamics in 𝑷𝒖𝒍𝒔𝒆 are more seemingly “casual” in nature, further emphasized is the gravity or impact of “One life lost” with a tangibility that is remarkably haunting, albeit confusing and at times lost in its own echo; even short of practicality Kurosawa accentuates the ‘contagion’ effect of loneliness and suicide, with conundrums concerning homeostasis amongst such a prevalence of tragedy having broader applications in the real world. As usual, it’s always a good idea to ask what a film is trying to “accomplish”, though ones like 𝑷𝒖𝒍𝒔𝒆 hardly ever leave viewers with a clear-cut answer. Given Kurosawa’s background in studying Sociology, his filmography’s overarching fixation on death (And, in this given case, suicide) while rash isn’t disingenuous: rendered is sort of a morbid curiosity about what happens to a larger community when one of its residents dies by any hand, much less their own. The good news is that a program entitled the ‘General Principles of Suicide Prevention Policy’ geared towards the development of better screening-related tools and improving the socioeconomic status of residents that was implemented in Japan in 2007 contributed to a gradual decline in suicide mortality rates, though these “improvements” have been largely overshadowed in the last five years by the COVID-19 pandemic period and an impending rise in related fatalities; bearing in mind what 𝑷𝒖𝒍𝒔𝒆 seems most deeply concerned about, which would be to what extent humans need one another to tackle hardships and the repercussions of feeling “disconnected”, interpretive points about who’s really been “dead all along” are both moot and need to be made all the same.

pulse is a great film sick nurses is pretty good but not as good though still love both of them though

I bought this DVD at Amazon. I must say I really enjoyed it. Having watched the american remake, I found the original way better and creepier. It doesn't even seem a horror movie, but more of an art movie, like some kind of scary study on human loneliness. Certain elements of the original source weren't translated well for the american remake, that's why I recommend this film, Kairo, and not the version made by Dimension Pictures. Kairo works as a riveting end-of-the-world parable, slickly done, with a grey, sad atmosphere that permeates the whole picture. Director Kurosawa understands that some times less is more, and not much is shown, but boy is this movie horrifying...There isn't a leading part in this, but a bunch of certain characters trying to figure out what's happening in Tokyo, and then the plague turns epidemic and reaches every corner of the world, as ghosts come back to life through internet and condemn people to their loneliness. This DVD presentation is top notch. You will get a making of, a trailer. Great buy for horror fans.

Starts of so strong and subtle with great atmosphere and spooks. Then it becomes a second movie entirely that will leave you wondering what in the world they were thinking. Very sad loss of potential.

It seems like Ring (or Ringu) steals all of the attention when it comes to best known Japanese horror. It is absolutely deserving of the attention it gets, there is a reason it is a classic, but whenever I am reminded of that film I immediately think of Pulse along with it. Its central theme is shared with Ring: the fear of technology. But I have found that while Ring has suffered a bit with age, the cross eyed faces and the frame going negative whenever Sadako makes good on her curse, Pulse remains as effective as it was the first time I watched it. The idea that a person can log onto a computer and go to a certain site and be asked if they want to see a ghost is something so odd a vague it never fails to make my skin crawl. And the population slowly disappearing by sinking into shadow marks on their walls or by suicide and being replaced by ghosts is so strange. It all works on such a unique level. I absolutely love this film and I am impressed with the Arrow release of it. So glad it’s getting the deluxe treatment it deserves.

At just under two hours, this one note one chord wonder is just possibly one of the most incomprehensibly indistinct films I've ever endured. The pace is slug slow, the colors are muted to the point of almost making this a black and white film, the actors were uniformly dull and dull witted. People who call Pulse atmospheric aren't kidding; this film is all atmosphere and nothing else. The story is as threadbare as it gets: people are disappearing; no one knows how or why, few are left, the end. I found absolutely nothing compelling about this film. It was like watching paint dry, as I impatiently waited for something to happen to prove the claim that this was "the scariest film of the year!" Unfortunately, only time wasted away, nothing in the way of a story ever developed. In passing, one character nonchalantly volunteered a theory over tea, that the ghost world was over populated with spirits and there must be an overflow of them, oozing into our world. Oh? Then why weren't they seen and why were people disappearing? No explanation, no answer, just weird emblematic clues like red tape on doors, stains on walls and floors, computers that turn themselves on, people muttering "help," and a lot of forbidden rooms that contain absolutely nothing but junk and poor lighting. Weird for the sake of being weird does not a movie make. If I want to watch something inexplicably bleak, I'll watch something that at least has a plot! Pardon me while I shake the dreary out of my head. Not a keeper.

Yes, your read my heading right (my opinion, of course) This movie, more than any other (and I've watched MANY horror movies in my lifetime - more than what was probably good for me) has affected me like no other. It's not for everyone and I don't think everybody will like it - it's very slow to get going and generally has a slow pace (like almost all of the director's movies) but it is incredibly disturbing and severely frightening once it grabs hold of you. I think the main character's face-to-face (literally) with the Grim Reaper near the end is one of the most bowel-loosening and terrifying scenes I've seen in a movie. It's quite a philosophical movie, dealing with isolation, depression and the inevitability of death. Cheery stuff, to be sure. We are all alone, this movie posits, and cut off from everyone else and true communication is severely limited. We can never make anyone else understand how we really feel. Language is inadequate - we are all horribly, eternally alone. Ironically, even more so in these Internet-obsessed, technologically advanced age. I could not get this movie out of my head for days afterward and it still haunts me to this day. Yes, it has some Ringu elements (long-haired spectres ahoy!) but it uses these tropes in its own and original way. There are absolutely mind-blowing set-pieces everywhere (the first foray into a red-taped room - brrrrr -, the dancing spectre in the arcade, the seated, hooded figure on the computer screen and of course the têtê-a-têtê with Death himself.) Give this movie a chance and you might love it like I do. Just be sure to take your anti-depressants first. Cheery stuff this is not. Oh, and check out the director's other stuff of you liked this - Cure is especially brilliant and unforgettable too.

Es una excelente edición de colección, aunque lamentablemente la caja llegó fracturada de la parte de abajo, seguramente por un golpe que surgió en algún momento del proceso de envío.

Buena película de terror japonesa de fantasmas y apocalíptica sonido bueno imagen aceptable

Facilement le film de j-horror ayant le scénario le plus effrayant. Et si c'était possible, si il n'y avait plus de place pour les âmes... Oui Pulse aka Kairo est une réussite aussi bien visuelle que scenaristique, une petite perle japonaise toujours inédite en bluray sur notre territoire. Pour l'édition arrow video a fait de la récupération de bonus, qui etait présente sur l'édition japonaise et ajouté un petit doc totalement inédit. L'image est plutôt propre, mais j'ai constaté un peu de grain sur quelques scènes de pénombre. Bref Pulse est un film d'épouvante qui change de l'ordinaire, grâce à un scénario totalement inédit pour l'époque, il n'est peut être pas supérieur à Ringu de nakata, mais largement au dessus des sagas comme ju-rei ou autres chakushin ari.

I bought this because I love the story and I like the concept that ghosts could conquer our world though the internet. I'm not going to lie to you though, the blu-ray quality is poor. If you already have the dvd ( like me )then don't buy this. However, If you want to see a very original ghost story then you won't find much better than this. This movie is very unsettling and rather bleak in its perception, but its slow, compelling story and original scares will have you gripped to the screen. What I like about this movie is you are introduced to several characters from different backgrounds and the film's slow paced sequences allow you get to know them before they meet to face the peril that is approaching them. One of my favourite spooky movies.