Horror is tricky. It's one thing if you're making a straight horror-thriller, or a sheer romp, where you can just charge ahead and do what you want. But if one is intending a subtler atmospheric piece, the sort to shock and chill at precise moments, it's necessary to very carefully and precisely develop the picture. The pacing can't be too soft or too swift, and the tone likewise has to be exactly balanced. Discrete moments of horror and surprise must be measured instead of forthright, but still readily apparent and sensible within the context of the story at hand. It's fair enough to build one's feature on recognizable elements, but it won't do to be a pure copycat; you might want variety, but there can't be overload; there must be a balance or at least a distinction between the ostensibly realistic and the plainly fantastical. Moreover, should any one aspect feel too overt or out of place it will jeopardize the whole, and likewise, explanations in the plot can't be too easy or the power of the storytelling collapses. This is the nature of genre storytelling, and a wide spectrum of fare exists on a wide spectrum of quality with or without such considerations.
This is the risky path that filmmaker Shimizu Takashi, and co-writer Hosaka Daisuke, adopted with 'Suicide forest village.' A very muted tone, and even more so very gentle pacing, make more difficult the great abundance of notions that are put forth in the screenplay well within the first hour. We're greeted with an infamous forest, here lent an additional suggested supernatural component, and a strange box; Internet culture, and ties between real-life family and friends; family history, childhood trauma, and mental illness; uncertainty between dreams, hallucinations, and lucid visions, and the third-person equivalent of an unreliable narrator; and more. The least that can be said, thankfully, is that Shimizu very attentively crafted his movie such that, with a couple arguable exceptions, we don't need to worry about any question of balance, or appropriate dispensation of any particular idea or beat. Whatever one's experience with his oeuvre otherwise, he shows himself to be a capable filmmaker. There's still the matter of the storytelling, however, and how all the many thoughts will be drawn together, because as we enter the second hour it doesn't seem as if the flick is even close to providing answers to its mysteries even as we're given more, even as the plot continues to develop, and even as characters meet grim fates.
The good news is that, while in a manner that's more deliberate and gradual than in any similar works I could name (even the tales within Kobayashi Masaki's classic 'Kwaidan' advanced more steadily), by and large all these disparate facets are indeed brought together before all is said and done. Along the way, we get no small amount of what we anticipate from horror: horrific imagery, jolting violence or death scenes, hair-raising dread, and a haunting ambience that's far more nuanced than what we may be accustomed to, but which is most assuredly present, palpable, and effective. True throughout, much of the entire last half hour is a veritable feast in that regard, and there's even earnest emotional weight to the saga at just the right points. Furthermore, in stark contrast to too many genre titles of the 2010s and 2020s, 'Suicide forest village' is very sharply made in every capacity. Stunts, practical effects, props, special makeup, and tangible creations are all outstanding; far more than not computer-generated imagery is employed if not sparingly, then at least very judiciously to serve the story instead of becoming its own ill-advised centerpiece. Of course I would prefer more physical fabrications, but I have to give credit where it's due, and the digital rendering looks fantastic here.
This is to say nothing of the truly superb production design and art direction, beautiful filming locations, and choice lighting that brings out all the magnificent detail to be had in all of it. This also includes, more generally, nice costume design, hair, and makeup. Shimizu's direction is rock solid, actually, masterfully bringing the tale and all its grimness to bear with shrewd calculation, and meaningful impact, even with that piecemeal pacing in mind. In turn, the cast give commendably strong performances, truly realizing the gloomy weight of the proceedings with acting of nuance and range; among others, Yamaguchi Mayu and Yamada Anna certainly stand out as sisters Mei and Hibiki, and Kunimura Jun's is always a welcome visage. With lovely cinematography and keen editing the viewing experience is as pleasant as something so dark could be, and it should be mentioned that robust audio allows great sound effects to ring out clearly. Moreover, while Ohmama Takashi's score rears its head relatively infrequently, it's a terrific complement for the proceedings at all times. Dynamic and varied, but commonly characterized by brooding soundscapes, the music lends tremendously to the dreary, quietly unsettling ambience of the film.
And the picture really is swell, all told, when it comes to the screenplay. There was a lot that Shimizu and Hosaka endeavored to blend together, and I think they pulled it off; above all, the scene writing is fabulously vivid, and as director Shimizu's vision couldn't be sturdier in that fashion. This isn't to say that everything here is perfect, however, for while the pacing especially is noteworthy, it's the narrative that earns concrete criticism in my opinion. I said that by and large all the disparate pieces are tied together, and I mean it, but the bad news is that the doing is not flawless. Now, it could reasonably be said that an indistinct course of events is purposeful, inviting a sense of unease through the mystery and uncertainty of "who, what, when, where, why, and how." One way or another, the plot remains somewhat nebulous through to the end, declining (or failing) to absolutely elucidate the entirety of the saga. We can discern easily enough the storytelling concepts of a curse, of the anger of the dead, and of the death that lingers and takes hold in a place. What this tale doesn't answer is "why these characters, specifically," or for that matter, "why any one person, specifically." The plot isn't completely satisfying because it isn't satisfactorily complete, and we viewers can basically just surmise that, gosh, curses sure are far-reaching. Or just vague.
So yes, 'Suicide forest village' has its problems. Depending on one's personal preferences, maybe it has more than I see. Yet despite all the issues that we may scrutinize, I find myself pleasantly surprised by how good this is. I sat to watch with very mixed expectations, and I'm in fact quite taken with what Shimizu put together. I could do with tighter writing, for my part, and I totally understand that the pacing and tone will be an obstacle for many viewers. We get exactly what we came for, however, in a feature that's far more skillfully made than too many points of comparison, and even if the horror airs are less outwardly visceral, they're no less definite. I'm glad I took the time to watch, and based on this I cautiously look forward to watching more from the filmmaker and all involved. One should perhaps be aware of the broad tenor of what they're getting into, but in my mind the end product is overall excellent, and I'm glad to give 'Suicide forest village' my hearty recommendation.
