| Reviewer Roundup |
| 1. |
 | Dustin Putman |
 | review follows |
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| 2. |
| Steve Rhodes |
| read the review |
|   |
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Review by Dustin Putman
3 stars out of 4
With the very same director onboard—Takashi Shimizu—and retaining
its vivid Tokyo setting, the American remake of the Japanese horror
sensation, "Ju-On: The Grudge," has done an accomplished job of staying
true to its source material while giving it an added depth all its
own. And, in a rare instance where the same filmmaker has been given
the chance to tackle his original work, this new rendition bypasses
many of the mainstream American genre conventions for a fresh and
unnerving direct ode to its Asian influences. "The Grudge" genuinely
surprises because one is never quite sure where it is headed next,
all the while involving the viewer in freakish, unforgettably nightmarish
imagery. The chilling cumulative effect the film ratchets up is sure
to stay with the watcher for much longer than the average studio horror
picture does these days.
The legend of "The Grudge" goes like this: when a person dies at the
hands of a powerful rage, an unstoppable curse is put into motion
that goes after anyone who comes into contact with it. When original
caregiver Yoko (Yoko Maki) turns up missing, American student Karen
Davis (Sarah Michelle Gellar), studying abroad in Japan to become
a social worker, is asked to take over in tending to an ailing elderly
woman (Grace Zabriskie). Once inside the death trap of a house, Karen
becomes the latest potential victim of the curse. As she witnesses
those who have once entered its doors turn up dead, Karen's countdown
to her own fatality begins, her only hope of survival being to unravel
the mystery of the so-called grudge before it finds her.
From specter-like children with blackened eyes to frightening videotape
footage of one of the ghosts walking toward the camera, the resemblance
"The Grudge" holds with "Ringu" (and its 2002 remake, "The Ring")
is not incidental. Although such influences are clear, "The Grudge"
finds its own identity through intricately designed non-linear storytelling
and a premise that is cleanly developed, but open-ended enough in
its details so that the scary unknown spell it conjures is never broken.
Instead of simply following lead heroine Karen from point-A-to-point-B
throughout the story, "The Grudge" occasionally moves back in time,
tracing the history of the house and its inhabitants and the ultimate
origin of the supernatural curse. This creative, unconventional approach
brings a richness to the proceedings that is progressively all the
more intoxicating as more characters briefly move into the focus.
There is the original family that lived there, a married couple and
their young son who suffered a terrible fate. Three years later, an
American couple, Jennifer (Clea DuVall) and Matthew (William Mapother),
move in with Matthew's mentally unstable mother—the woman Karen eventually
comes to work for. Also tagging along to Tokyo is the woman's grown
daughter, Susan (KaDee Strickland). And then there is the mysterious
man (Bill Pullman) who, in a pre-opening titles sequence, abruptly
commits suicide by jumping off his apartment balcony. As these ill-fated
souls, and several other people through the years, fall prey to the
curse, the film eventually wraps back around to Karen's present-day plight.
The cast, headlined by a serious-looking, oft-terrorized Sarah Michelle
Gellar (2004's "Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed"), gamely do their
jobs with efficiency, seemingly taking on the rhythms and acting approach
of their Japanese counterparts. Where "The Grudge" grabs the audience
and gets its worth, however, is in a near-succession of taut, jarring
set-pieces, each one more strange and horrific than the last. Of particular
note is a rattlingly elongated sequence that depicts the stalking
of Susan, first at her work office and then at her apartment, and
a climactic scene involving Karen that, for the first time in a while
at the movies, had the hairs on my arms standing straight up—no easy
feat for a stuffy screening room that apparently had no air conditioning turned on.
Whereas many horror films' plot particulars tend to unravel the more
one thinks about them, "The Grudge" has the opposite effect, wholly
improving in one's mind as the disturbing scenes and tightly fabricated
storytelling play themselves out after the fact. Save for a few too
many slow walks down hallways and into rooms—the one cliched aspect
it shares with American horror—"The Grudge" delights in usually defying
expectations. Finally, in a welcome addition of profundity that the
Japanese version had no way of having, the film almost plays like
a genre version of "Lost in Translation." The leads, almost all American,
feel alienated and adrift by their newly foreign and very different
surroundings, a nifty aside to the otherworldly horrors they ultimately
come face-to-face with. Instead of wrapping everything up in a neat,
tidy bow, the fear that "The Grudge" so expertly exhibits comes squarely
from what the characters, and the viewers, do not know.
Copyright © 2004 Dustin Putman
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