'Ju-On: The Curse' - The Original Movies That Spawned 'The Grudge' Franchise - Bloody Disgusting
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‘Ju-On: The Curse’ – The Original Movies That Spawned ‘The Grudge’ Franchise

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In a world where over-polished corporate products dominate the media landscape while the ever-growing threat of AI-generated “art” haunts the horizon, I can’t help but remember a story about how Wes Anderson insisted on using real fur on the stop-motion puppets of his animated opus, Fantastic Mr. Fox. When the animators complained that using fur would result in obvious thumbprints and erratic hair movement that would ruin the “illusion” of lifelike movement, the filmmaker explained that these imperfections were the point.

Why am I bringing this up on a horror website? Well, I’ve always been of the opinion that low production value is simply part of the appeal of independent cinema, and nowhere is this more evident than in the horror genre. Rubber monster suits and watery blood effects are a big part of what make even the cheapest scary movies so endearing, and horror fans are uniquely predisposed to look beyond technical limitations in order to appreciate a good story.

One of my favorite examples of this is a certain micro-budget duology that kicked off one of the scariest film series of all time despite some undeniably janky presentation. And as a lifelong fan of low-budget scares, I’d like to invite you to join me down a J-Horror rabbit hole as we explore the criminally underrated origins of the Ju-On/The Grudge franchise.

While most of you are likely already familiar with 2002’s Ju-On: The Grudge, the film that helped to kick off the J-Horror craze and established Takashi Shimizu as a master of the craft, a lot of folks don’t realize that this was actually the filmmaker’s third attempt at telling the Saeki family story. In fact, the very first appearance of Kayako and her ghostly son occurred in a couple of 1998 short films made by Shimizu while he was still in film school.

Part of a made-for-TV anthology showcasing the work of up-and-coming Japanese filmmakers (Gakkô no Kaidan G), the shorts attempted to update classic Japanese folk tales for a new generation by incorporating modern elements like helpless high-schoolers and cellphones into old-fashioned ghost stories.

The original Toshio!

Despite some cheap camerawork and drama class make-up effects, Shimizu’s Katasumi and 4444444444 (so titled because the Japanese pronunciation of the number 4 is similar to that of death) were the clear highlights of the spooky collection despite being much shorter than the other segments. That’s why it was only natural that the director’s next project would be a feature-length expansion of these ideas produced for the direct-to-video market.

Coming up with an extensive mythology surrounding his murderous ghosts and realizing that he had a potential hit on his hands, Shimizu ended up making the risky decision to split his original two-hour story into two smaller films shot back-to-back. And while the sequel would suffer from this decision, the focus on serialized storytelling is what would ultimately turn this indie experiment into a global phenomenon.

Released in 2000, the first entry in this duology, simply titled Ju-On: The Curse, weaves an interconnected web of paranormal incidents surrounding a cursed house and the ill-fated families that inhabit it. While the film would actually reference the events of Shimizu’s shorts, it’s here that audiences were first introduced to the iconic opening text explaining how a violent death may spawn an infectious curse that self-perpetuates by causing even more deaths in a never-ending cycle of violence.

At first glance, The Curse feels a lot like an anthology meant to repurpose Shimizu’s existing ideas for ghostly short films into a feature format, but narrative details eventually add up as worried teachers, unsuspecting teenagers and psychic realtors unravel bits and pieces of the Saeki family history in a tragic tapestry of death. Curiously, this attempt at crafting a complex narrative puzzle would become a staple of the franchise as future entries (and even the video game) used non-linear storytelling to breathe new life into familiar yarns.

Of course, it’s really the scares that put this franchise on the map, and that’s why you’ll find plenty of expertly orchestrated frights here. Sure, the pale makeup effects and stock sound design aren’t that much better than what we saw in Gakkô no Kaidan G, but the suspenseful execution of moments like Toshio’s slow undead reveal and Kayako’s first contortionist crawl down the stairs – not to mention the incredibly disturbing sequence with a baby inside of a trash bag – are the stuff of horror legend regardless of budget.

I’d even argue that the low production value actually adds to the experience by making everything feel that much more down to earth. The Saeki house isn’t a stylish haunted manor from the Vincent Price era, it’s just a regular Japanese home inhabited by regular people, making it easier to believe that this modern urban legend could also happen to you. Hell, I even think Toshio is scarier when he can pass as a living kid even if the screaming cat effects aren’t as good as the sequels.

Cheap can still be scary.

Unfortunately, quality scares can’t solve everything, and that’s where Ju-On: The Curse 2 comes in. Released the same year as its predecessor, this bizarre sequel only features about 45 minutes of new footage, with the rest being recycled segments from the first film meant to pad out the runtime. While this is a surprisingly dishonest move on Shimizu’s part, with the decision likely resulting in confused viewers thinking that there was something wrong with their rented videotapes, it’s still pretty hard to call this a bad movie.

That’s why I’ve come to respect the flick as a rare instance of a cinematic expansion pack, as the first film didn’t really need to be any longer, but the new segments still do a great job of adding to the existing mythology. This time around, we learn that you don’t even have to come into direct contact with the haunted house in order to be affected by the curse, with characters only tangentially connected to the Saeki tragedy still meeting terrible fates.

That final shot featuring multiple Kayakos is also one of the most incredibly chilling moments in the entire franchise, with the amount of care put into these scenes suggesting that this was probably all meant to have been included in the first film before Shimizu decided otherwise. Either way, I’d still recommend watching this one immediately after Part I in a condensed double-feature – so long as you skip the first thirty minutes.

Despite their humble origins, these low-budget scare-fests would go on to inspire a ghostly media empire, with Shimizu eventually being given the chance to bring his creations to the big screen with one of the best J-Horror flicks of all time. And while I won’t argue that these direct-to-video precursors are necessarily better than 2002’s Ju-On: The Grudge (or even the American duology which was also helmed by Shimizu), I still think that something special was lost each time the series was tasked with pleasing a wider audience, as the story slowly became glossier and less real.

That’s why I’d urge hardcore horror fans to seek out Shimizu’s early experiments, as his creative fingerprints are the duct-tape that keeps this janky collection of horrific vignettes together. It may not always be pretty, but I’ll take the grimy actors caked in cheap blood and white clown makeup over corporate-approved movie monsters any day of the week.

Born Brazilian, raised Canadian, Luiz is a writer and Film student that spends most of his time watching movies and subsequently complaining about them.

Books

The Power of Believing: Diving into Stephen King’s Fictional Tabloid ‘Inside View’

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Pictured: 'The Night Flier'

Stephen King is an interesting follow on the site formerly known as Twitter. When not posting about politics or his latest literary find, he’s ranting about the state of the world and making observations that position him as a sort of elder statesman in the horror community. A recent tweet by the Master of Horror mentions a bygone era of salacious magazines that harkens back to his early career: “Hey, do you guys remember that supermarket tabloid that used to have stories about BatBoy? Man, I loved that shit.”

The world-famous author is likely referencing publications like The National Enquirer and similar periodicals that used to grab eyes in checkout lanes with claims of Elvis sightings and alien encounters. Frequently inspired by the world around him, King has his own literary brand of tabloid journalism with Inside View, a rag that has been appearing in his work for decades. 


The Dead Zone

‘The Dead Zone’

Inside View began its life in one of King’s early classics, The Dead Zone (1979). This political thriller follows Johnny Smith, a teacher who awakens from a four-year coma with a disturbing ability to see into the past and future. When news of his powerful gift makes its way outside of the hospital, it peaks the interest of a sleazy periodical. Richard Dees, a journalist for Inside View approaches Johnny at his home with a lucrative offer to exploit this ability in a salacious column filled with parlor tricks and outsized predictions. Smith and his father summarily dismiss Dees and throw him off of their porch, valuing their privacy over a lifetime of lucrative infamy. But with this one interaction, an entity was born.

Inside View would become a fixture in King’s interconnected literary world and continue to appear in his novels and short stories for the next 45 years. 


Danse Macabre

Criterion Collection October

‘Freaks’

But to truly understand the genesis of this fascinating magazine, we need to go even further back in time. King has always been fascinated by oddities and opens his first non-fiction work, Danse Macabre, with memories of childhood nightmares. In the first chapter, “Tales of the Hook,” King tackles the concept of monstrosity by exploring fascination with carnival sideshows and the impact of Tod Browning’s disturbing 1932 film Freaks. While much of this section would be considered problematic by today’s standards, it was an uneven contribution to early conversations about disability and acceptance. King also seems fully aware of the salacious nature of this exploitation. In a treatise on horror, he’s examining the concept of otherness and our tendency to fixate on physical differences as a way of reifying the social hierarchy. He insists, “it is not the physical or mental aberration in itself which horrifies us, but rather the lack of order which these aberrations seem to imply.” 

King credits The National Enquirer with sparking his own interest in monsters and even admits to being an occasional patron. In a footnote following a mention of the tabloid, he confesses, “I buy it if there’s a juicy UFO story or something about Bigfoot, but mostly I only scan it rapidly while in a slow supermarket checkout lane, looking for such endearing lapses of taste as the notorious autopsy photo of Lee Harvey Oswald or their photo of Elvis Presley in his coffin.” While King may cast slight judgment on the authors of these exploitative stories, he does not shame the readers themselves. He describes these stories with a mix of reverence, bemusement, and childish wonder. These grainy photos of alien autopsies, flesh-eating dogs, and grotesque physical anomalies once sparked his imagination and introduced a young horror fan to elements of the macabre that would inform his prolific writing career for decades to come. 


Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Nightmares & Dreamscapes: From the Stories of Stephen King

While King’s work has always centered on the exploration of monsters, both fantastical and human, he dove head-first into this interest with his third short story collection Nightmares and Dreamscapes (1993). Akin to a curio shelf of horrific objects, this assortment of 23 unnerving tales features a number of dangerous oddities and unexpected monsters. Subjects range from a massive finger growing out of a toilet and a pair of murderous wind-up teeth, to bat people masquerading as powerful businessmen and killer frogs raining from the sky. His introduction – King’s beloved way of speaking directly to his Constant Readers – mentions freakish tales from paperback compilations of Ripley’s Believe It or Not!, a publication he fondly remembers devouring in his youth.

Rather than factual evidence, it’s belief that seems to interest King most. In a subtle nod to the climax of his magnum opus It (1986), King muses on the power of believing in myths like poisonous gas at the center of tennis balls and the ability to sever a shadow by piercing it with a stake. Similar to urban legends that shape our interactions with the larger world, King notes the importance belief in these imaginative legends has had in his own life. “This made for more than a few sleepless nights, but it also filled the world I lived in with colors and textures I would not have traded for a lifetime of restful nights.” Rather than cast a baleful eye on journals that traffic in the sensational, King’s collection highlights the power of believing in the “unseen world all around us.” His introduction concludes with an invitation to suspend disbelief and venture into a world where anything is possible. 


The Night Flier

‘The Night Flier’

Given this fantastical focus, it’s no surprise that Nightmares and Dreamscapes features King’s most overt exploration of Inside View. The collection’s fourth story “The Night Flier”  follows Dees, now a veteran reporter, on the trail of a “vampire” traveling the country in a small private plane. It’s a grim story with a true crime feel and a fascinating approach to vampire lore. The titular pilot may wear the black cape made famous by Bela Lugosi, but he has a hideous face with two large, bore-like fangs that puncture the necks of his victims and cause their blood to spurt out like crimson guisers. Dwight Renfield is not an elegant killer, but a ripper-like psycho leaving grisly crime scenes and dismembered corpses in his wake – the perfect subject for Inside View

Rather than focus solely on the monster himself, King spends just as much time exploring Dees’s own ethical code. Far from the ambitious hack that once knocked on Johnny Smith’s door, this Dees has been curating the publication’s scandalous content for decades. He operates on the iron-clad directive to never print anything he believes and to never believe anything he prints, an interesting subversion to King’s earlier introduction. I won’t spoil one of the collection’s best entries, but “The Night Flier” plays with the price of disbelief as Dees is forced into a world where the stories he’s been spinning for decades might actually be real. 


Modern Mentions

‘Doctor Sleep’

King presents Nightmares and Dreamscapes as the concluding chapter in a trilogy of short story collections and it does feel like the end of an era. The author’s next literary phase is much more experimental, playing with formats, bending genres, and moving further away from the hallmarks of classic horror. Inside View remains a constant, but the author’s perspective seems to gradually shift. Tess, the heroine of his 2010 rape-revenge novella “Big Driver,” chooses not to report her assault in part because she fears the magazine would blame her for the crime. In Doctor Sleep (2013), Abra’s mother keeps her daughter’s psychic abilities a secret for fear that, like Johnny Smith, she would become fodder for the tabloids. This shift may have something to do with King’s own time recovering from a near-fatal highway accident. During his lengthy recovery, the world-famous author may have imagined pictures of his own mangled body appearing in publications willing to disregard ethics in favor of a massive payday.  

Though mentions have decreased since the ’90s, King has not stopped writing about Inside View. Billy Summers (2021) and Fairy Tale (2022) both include references to this fictional tabloid. Inside View also makes an appearance in You Like It Darker, now available. The eagerly anticipated collection revisits Cujo, another Castle Rock story from King’s early catalog. 

King’s intro for Nightmares and Dreamscapes extols not only the virtues of short stories, but also their ability to save the world. “Good writing–good stories–are the imagination’s firing pin, and the purpose of the imagination, I believe, is to offer us solace and shelter from situations and life-passages which would otherwise prove unendurable. I can only speak from my own experience, of course, but for me, the imagination which so often kept me awake and in terror as a child has seen me through some terrible bouts of stark raving reality as an adult.” With the world seeming to come apart at the seams, perhaps it’s time to renew our faith in the fantastical, suspend our disbelief, and once again venture with King into the world of the seemingly impossible. 

‘The Night Flier’

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