Journey to the Shore (2015) trades in the haunted house for a ghost story (Review)

Horror has many go to Monsters; one will have its turn in the limelight before passing it on to the next. The subtleties of titles like the Uninvited or the Haunting have subsided only to be replaced by the cacophony of Amityville Horror or Insidious. However, take Japan or many an Eastern nation; they have a much humbler interpretation of the ghost al a Mizoguchi’s Ugetsu or Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s latest in Journey to the Shore. Kurosawa’s film has no wailing banshees, spectres and wraiths; actually, his new film doesn’t come remotely close to genre cinema. His first film to make an impact in the West since Tokyo Sonata, Journey to the Shore is based on a novel from Kazumi Yumoto and adapted by Kurosawa & the writer of cult anime Michiko & Hatchin, Takashi Ujita.

Eri Fukatsu is Mizuki, a single woman living a listless existence; going through the motions, occasionally teaching children piano – Japan chews up and spits out millions in her position. Washing up after another lonely meal is Tadanobu Asano, her long-missing husband Yusuke. The strangest part is Yusuke has been long dead – one of the first things he says is his body sits at the bottom of the sea eaten by crabs; it wouldn’t be found even if you knew where to look. These ghosts are no vengeful spectres by loved ones given a final chance to say good-bye.

No-fuss is made, not only are ghosts an accepted norm they also have a form that makes them impossible to differentiate from the living. Only Ghosts can identify other Ghosts. Yusuke and Mizuki travel from place to place and revelations like this inform the background of each new person the reunited pair stays with. One arrangement features someone who is not only a Ghost he also runs a local newspaper, the next illustrates the emotional process needed to summon a dead loved one before eventually revealing the bigger picture in the final town the two visit. Watching the life return to Mizuki more and more with each passing town, seeing the love return to her life is never less than charming, passé or not.

At 2 hours and 7 minutes, Kurosawa’s film is too long. The first and last acts establish the rules whilst developing the story, background and core relationship. There are five visits and most are necessitated by them filling in the blanks of the marriage, revealing a new facet of the dead Yusuke or the beautifully subtle climactic exorcism. On the page, each episode will flow as part of a grander narrative, however, with any self-respecting book adaptation, there needs to some economy. The middle act almost goes on without end, even with scenes where Asano deliberates on the absoluteness of nothing the film reaches a point where there is little else to be said – yet still goes on for a further 20, 30 minutes. Sometimes Japanese cinema with leisurely pacing is its own worst enemy.

An argument could be made that those 20 or 30 minutes are entirely premeditated, that Kurosawa is using the film as a framing device for Mizuki’s state of mind, wanting this time with her late husband to last as long as possible. Perhaps what Lanthimos offered in Alps is the better option, maybe these last doomed moments together just makes it harder to say goodbye and given how the relationship between Mizuki and Yusuke develops, it’s certainly an easy argument to put forward.

Kurosawa’s should be recognised for the strength of his convictions, the world of cinema wants its ghost stories told around the campfire and he brings Journey to the Shore, a film that warms the heart instead. The impact of the final act fills in all the blanks in its mythology while showing how emotionally brutal this post-life reunion can be. With Kurosawa sticking to these convictions and not once engaging with “the ghost story”, he recaptures some of the subtlety this “horror monster” has lost over the decades.

Thanks for reading our review of Journey to the Shore

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