Nobuhiko Obayashi
Hausu

When discussing Hausu (Nobuhiko Ohbayashi - 1977), opinions usually take two distinct paths; those who view it as a divertissement and those, like me, who label it as a seminal film.

PLOT: A group of teenage girls on vacation in a haunted house.

COMMENTARY: The protagonists of this film are seven girls and an aunt. The girls are crafted to perfection, echoing common stereotypes that make them easy to relate to. There's the slightly geeky girl (Prof), the music lover (Melody), the tomboy (Kung-Fu), the one who loves to eat (Mac), the sweet one (Sweet), the dreamer (Fantasy), and finally, the wonderful protagonist, unique in her perfection (Gorgeous). The aunt is the sister of the protagonist's deceased mother. She has a somewhat conventional background that perfectly aligns with the Yokai mythology, heavily drawn upon by the director: her future husband, the one true love of her life, was killed during World War II, leaving her alone. Years of wallowing in pain result in her death, and thus, precisely as in the best Japanese tradition, her spirit, eager to avenge the wrongs suffered, transforms into an evil being. The story is certainly a nod to the vast Japanese folkloristic culture, particularly to the Kwaidan (the classic, immortal ghost stories where the ghost, in the main, torments others to avenge the cruelties suffered in life), and is also, by the director's own admission, a journey into his daughter's mind, who, impressed by watching Jaws, confides to her father her innermost fears. Thus, amidst mysticism and fanciful journeys, the pieces for constructing the story unfold.

The elements worth considering are:

• Scenography and Stagecraft: of a surreal taste. Deliberately inspired by the unbelievably fake sets of Toho productions (from which it is produced), they constitute one of the genuine highlights of the film. One gets the feeling of being in a new 'Alice in Wonderland,' where there is ample space for visually impactful images with colors as intense as they are disturbing. It's only natural to wonder if what you are actually watching is a film or a photograph taken with an old LOMO (for the joy of Hipsters); personally, the colors reminded me of Tarkovsky's works, and I found them quite influential in the filmography of Tetsuya Nakashima (Kamikaze Girls, Memories Of Matsuko).

• Cinematic Photography: it's bullet time. Bullet Time is a special effect that allows each moment of the scene to be seen in slow motion while the camera seems to rotate around the scene at normal speed. We all remember this effect thanks to movies like The Matrix, but it is also excellently used here more than twenty years earlier, remarkable, isn't it?

• Soundtrack: Pros and cons. The voices of the young protagonists are annoying to the point of the incredible, making one almost want to side with the evil aunt. The desire to see them dead is as strong as their being terribly Pop and Camp together; paradoxically, this makes me appreciate the purely sound aspect of the film, I find the idea, so emphasized, that the protagonists, even when overwhelmed by literal gallons of blood, remain joyful and hopeful for an easy resolution to be genius. A demerit note for the main tune performed with the irritating and, let's face it, spoiler-revealing piano. The OST is of little importance.

• Honorable mention to the cat Snowflake, how not to think of: Bakeneko?

There is unfortunately a common belief that the film is fundamentally inconsistent, lacking an effective plot, merely an exploit of images in pure surrealistic style, a fortuitous work, and I feel I must disagree. The synopsis, in my opinion, is deliberately superficial; there are several elements that betray this manifest superficiality by indicating a profound artistic consciousness in Nobuhiko Obayashi. One above all: Christina's World.

The 1948 painting by Andrew Wyeth depicts a semi-sitting girl viewed from behind as she looks at a house not too far away. The work often associated with the salvation-condemnation duality appears around the seventh and a half minute when the protagonist's bedroom is shown. A truly curious reference if one considers that the idea of vacationing at the aunt's poses for Gorgeous a chance of saving from a present less than rosy. These small signals scattered throughout the film lead me to think of a literally grand initial production idea. Enriched by a realization halfway between slapstick, comedy horror, and pure psychedelia. I like to define it as an experience, a can of worms.

Undoubtedly a masterful work.