We left Takashi Shimizu with Inunaki, the Forgotten Village, who was given away at the Gérardmer Festival. An undeniably insane bazaar of horror, but inventive and fun, this film is filled with envy and gives hope that the director of Ju-on: The Grudge and its remake The Grudge is on the verge of rediscovering the annoying aggressiveness of its beginnings. Unfortunately, Homunculus, available on Netflix, greatly dampens these expectations.
When an adrift executive wakes up from an experimental operation in which he has become a guinea pig, trepanned and amnesiac, he expects a bad quarter of an hour. But this is only the beginning of his mistakes, because he now has the ability to see the trauma or neuroses of his contemporaries. An uncomfortable situation, even a nightmare, where the unlucky person will try to find the party, even if it means turning into the evil Amélie Poulain.
There is much to be said with such a starting point, which offers the camera many possibilities for transcribing the tortured souls of a Japanese social body that is not too stingy in all kinds of suffering. This is also the only real success of Homunculus. The film offers us some very stimulating sequences in which Shimizu delights in turning the anxieties of his contemporaries into visual concepts that are in turn plastically appealing, disturbing, provocative, or unexpected.
It’s also when it comes to blending style and references that makes the record amazing. As when it unfolds, where motifs call out to erode the entire story, trepanation images and pop sounds that seem irrelevant to the subject come together. In this rare moment of split, the filmmakers rediscover a bit of the aggressive, or soft mutant, style that energized some of his earlier work. So many azimuth sweet dishes, unfortunately shared with the audience with too much stinginess.
IN THE BLIND KINGDOM
Unfortunately, Takashi Shimizu is rarely in control of the plot. Condensing Hideo Yamamoto’s manga, whose story can add up to more than 15 volumes, is an impossible task, or a death trap.
And indeed, screenplay editing turns out to be, more often than not, incapable of intelligently condensing the original work, which doesn’t require reading to feel how nothing goes right in terms of rhythm, so many elliptical bumps, or some too much dialogue. explain. We are often bored, we are almost never excited about action, shy when promising on paper, so many experiments.
Chatty to follow, Homunculus also gives the impression that the director never lived up to his story, or even that the awkwardness he exhibits completely paralyzes him. Evidenced by the rape sequence, which will be smarter, twisted and smarter than it turns out to be, despite the inventive visual treatment.
The cuts, and finally the feature film discourse, then leads to a rather sad misinterpretation, turning flagged sexual violence into a simulated rescue. One example among many is the narrative tail that fills the whole and gradually makes it indigestible and boring.