Cure

Takes the typical detective-hunting-a-serial-killer story and twists it into a creepy, enigmatic bit of psychological terror that by its final ambiguous scene leaves you truly chilled.

With its gift for infusing uneasiness into every frame, Kurosawa's moody, unnerving film continues to spook us even after the lights have gone on.

Contains quite a few grisly and ghastly images.

The final scene is a piece of cunning visual wit that makes you realize how artful and sneaky Cure, has been beneath its clinical, deadpan surface.

The result is somewhat confounding, but utterly spellbinding.

Kurosawa may be considered the genius, but his movie would go nowhere without its extraordinary leading man.

It's more psychological than a genre movie, and that is the source of both its greatest interest and its biggest problem.

Director Kiyoshi Kurosawa constructs a captivating, complex universe in "Cure," and one that cannot be reduced to simple answers and established truths. On the surface, Kurosawa has seemingly constructed your standard procedural police thriller, but as the story slowly unfolds, it develops into a fascinating, perplexing psychological mystery. From the startlingly violent opening sequence, it's clear we're in the hands **** director in complete control of his medium, and who focuses on heightening the senses to create an atmosphere of trepidation. Kurosawa pulls his story in the opposite direction of a typical detective story, and brilliantly turns a routine thriller into a vehicle of social criticism. The first half of "Cure" unfolds as a police-procedural. A wave of gruesome murders is sweeping Tokyo, and the only connection between them is a bloody X carved into the neck of each of the victims. A variety of unlikely killers are responsible for the slayings, all of whom have encountered a disoriented young man named Kunio Mamiya, played by Masato Hagiwara. He possesses a hypnotic effect on people, but has no apparent memory of it. His lack of memory appears contagious, and the eventual killers succumb to it as well. Detective Takabe picks up bits and pieces about hypnotic suggestion, a theory he tosses out early in the film, and it is also rejected by his psychiatrist friend, Makoto Sakuma (Tsuyoshi Ujiki). The trail of dead bodies, however, eventually leads to Mamiya, who's been held in a mental hospital. The second half of the film involves Takabe dealing with his own emotional issues, and his wife who has a deteriorating mental condition, whose symptoms include an inability to recall recent events, and in this way she and Mamiya appear quite similar. This increases Takabe's frustration with Mamiya, as the boy's refusal to respond to simple requests reminds him all to well of the issues at home. Takabe would most likely be Mamiya's next victim, however, he does have one advantage that Mamiya's other victims didn't: his growing knowledge of Mamiya's abilities. Just as Mamiya is hypnotically manipulating his prey, Kurosawa is also skillfully manipulating the audience, taking us into a world of uncertainty, and a slow descent into pure madness. Kiyoshi Kurosawa deserves credit for his unique visual approach, and his evasive approach to storytelling. He establishes a pervasive sense of detachment by utilizing barren landscapes, and filming scenes with isolated frames. Almost no music is present during the movie, adding to the feel of extreme isolation, and instead amplified everyday sounds create the tension. Inevitably, the indefinable cure for the unconscionable murders serves as a tragic allegory for the emotional disconnect of our society. The film eerily presents the impersonal nature of our contemporary existence with extraordinary direction. Mr. Kurosawa constructs an elaborate psychological labyrinth, and then strands us in the middle of it, with no definitive way out. A master of disquiet, Kurosawa touches on the forbidden zones of our existence, exploring the unseen, and probing the unspeakable.

Inexplicable murders plague a Japanese town, not just conspicuous in their brutish commonality (each victim is finished in the same way: a broad X carved into their neck) but in the immediate presence and confused confession of a string of perpetrators. The evidence doesn't lie - these men and women clearly committed the crimes - but the striking similarities and a complete lack of motive or hesitation suggest something larger at work. Alongside an obsessive, emotionally distant police detective, we dig for clues, grow frustrated, luck into a break and suddenly find ourselves right in the middle of something that's beyond our control. Exploring the tricky theme of impulsive, ritualistic violence as a sort of viral social disorder, Kiyoshi Kurosawa (no relation to Akira) toys with some heavy stuff in Cure. It's a bold experiment that doesn't always work. The setup of the first hour, for example, is awfully slow and disconnected, considering the amount of bloody murder going down. Once we edge nearer to the cause of this macabre work, though, things get interesting, fast. It's horror in both the traditional sense and a more modern one; a gory hunt for an unhinged mastermind (of sorts) with startling jumps and plenty of body bags, but also a haunting vision of madness as an uncontrollable plague, an invisible killer that moves from one host to the next. An imperfect but effective experiment, particularly as the camera betrays our trust in the third act.

[SPOILER ALERT: This review contains spoilers.]

Supported by a great cast giving strong performances, beautiful cinematography, a dark and grim atmosphere and a depressing ending, "Cure" is a masterwork in creating tension and is sure to leave a big impression even after you're done watching it.

While I don't think Cure is a bad film by any means regarding production, acting or story, I personally didn't find the film to be entertaining. At times the film is confusing but that's par for the course for with mystery thrillers with psychological twists.