WITCH BOARD

Attacking the nature of perception with a unique style, sense of tragedy, and cultural exotica that is both timely and timeless, Bunshinsaba, a new stylistic nightmare of conscious and fragmented perception from Korea, finds new masks for ancient dreads, allowing us to see both the world and ourselves in a frightening new way, merging the horrifyingly occult with the more easily (if no less frightening) recognizable. Reflecting the universal terror of the unknown, and our ancient mistrust and fascination with black magic, this Korean attack is also quick to plumb the depths of intimate, everyday anxieties, finding a common ground between the outré and everyday that heightens the tension. The primal associations of this complex, emotionally challenging story challenge concepts of life, the after-life, and existence itself while titillating through carefully constructed moments of suspense. An exploitation film and serious drama, Bunshinsaba breathes fresh perspective and imagery into the now commonplace conventions of Asian horror. Revitalizing such well-worn themes as adolescent school girls, curses, and supernatural vengeance with an emphasis on social crises and the pain of isolation in a school environment, this lyrical expression of angst and rage is as suggestively creepy as it is thematically bold in its dissection of hypocrisy, sharing some surface similarities with Whispering Corridors while retaining its own identity.

Yu-jin (Se-eun Lee) and her blind mother move to a small village from the district of Seoul. During her first day at a new school, Yu-jin is insulted and verbally attacked by her classmates. Along with other fellow outsiders, victims of school hatred and prejudice, Yu-jin calls upon the dead spirit of a former deceased student, Kim In-suk (Yu-ri Lee), who died 30 years earlier under tragic circumstances. She then proceeds to place a curse on the four girls who hurt her most deeply through a Ouija Board. On her second day at school, one of her cursed subjects bursts into flames. The next day still another of the bullies burns to death, instigating the school to close. As we realize that Yu-jin has awoken a deadly curse, allowing the spirit of In-suk to seek revenge, Yu-jin herself must wrestle with an internal host of demons just as powerful as the film's exciting, genuinely horrifying external bogies.

Finding forms for mysterious elements of the unknown that both plague and fascinate us Bunshinsaba creates a cinematic mirror by which we can better see our own dark hearts. This dissection of secret desires and demonic conspiracy is not only a modernized ghost story dressing ancient fears in modern garb but an intellectually daring nightmare of surrealistic proportions. With the dark heart of a Faerie tale and the faith of a child, it weaves its weird wonders alongside a surprisingly mature examination of relationships. Maintaining an impressive emotional and imagistic balance between dark fantasy and a world seeped in the all-too-real heartaches and banal grind of daily tragedy, of little consequence, perhaps, to the world at large but decidedly dramatic to the perception suffering it, torments, director -- does a commendable job anchoring elements of the unknown in the symbols, settings, and incidents of realism. Rooted in the foundations of its characters essential fears and desires, the movie's supernatural frights come across as both believable and increasingly relevant.

While the spectral presence in this movie is both terrifying and unique in its frightening glossy-eyed look, devoted to bringing death to bullies in a variety of shocking ways, it has an additional agenda that lends a more satisfying complexity to a story otherwise grounded (somewhat too deeply) in the similar plot lines of such Korean adolescent supernatural tragedies as Wishing Stairs. Despite surface similarities, though, Bunshinsaba establishes its own thematic purpose, not to mention an impressive depth of passion and dread -- despite the depthless attacks that the film has received from 'critics' who apparently believe that any film concerning teenagers and the supernatural must necessarily suffer from lack of originality. Witchboard does not suffer from any such deficiencies. Admittedly dealing with cliché tropes and stereotypical characters, the look and feel of the film, as well as its context, form an impressive connection between the occult and the banalities of the everyday world -- a world of grades, peer pressure, and thoughtless adults/institutions that add to the nightmarish sense of victimization.

Whereas typical, traditional supernatural stories usually first establish a context of everyday reality which invites audience to suspend their disbelief, inviting believability before allowing occult elements to subtly intrude, Bunshinsaba subverts the nature of 'reality' from within, suggesting that the supernatural isn't in actuality a deviance from reality but, in fact, an essential if often unseen component of universal experience. By finding the source for occult terror within the traditional 'good fabric' of logically defined existence -- a world we've been taught to believe operates by certain logical, scientific rules and regulations-- the filmmakers have created a film experience that does more than scare or titillate. They have forged a work of occult art that is just as easy to consider serious human drama in its examination of guilt, karma, and psychical phenomena. In its darkly lit corridors we're encouraged to fear not only phantoms from the Other Side; we're also seduced into seeing a cancerous hole in the fabric of reality itself -- an idea far more frightening!

This torrid tale of terror and titillation questions the nature of, and possible relationship between, the real and the fantastical as characters descend into an uncertain darkness of ulterior consciousness, stripping away the layers between illusion and physical truth. A much needed breath of fresh dark air in a genre lately overpopulated by stock caricatures, this troubling ménage of unease is challenging, creepy, and atmospheric. People are just as much ghosts herein as the specters that haunt them, and while the later certainly raise goose-bumps, appealing to the viewer in search of a simply frightening evening, the spirits of guilt, doubt, and consciousness lingering beneath surface plot are much more effective. Combining the modern terrors of loneliness, alienation, and identity with a supernatural existence seeped in archetypal guilt, this contemporary ghost story is as much a dissection of souls as it is an entertaining thrill ride into the shadow-stained geography of nightmare. While unadventurous audiences expecting to see another inferior Hollywood remake or teeni-bop slasher will be disappointed by this surprisingly mature, uncompromising attack against traditional storytelling, those in search of horrific revelation will gladly surrender to the movie's subversive audacity and refusal to wallow in definitive solutions. There are no clean-cut definitions or happy endings to be had in terrors too subjective and powerful to dismiss by either mere logic or faith.

Bunshinsaba is treated with impressive respect by Tokyo Shock, who treats the film with a stunning widescreen transfer. Loaded with stunning color and elegant compositions, the visual clarity of this transfer is absolutely gorgeous -- and no, I'm not on their payroll -- I am, however, impressed by the level of technological savvy that went into this production. No discernible grain, lines, speckling, or other defects are noticeable on this sumptuous picture. Audio is featured in both Korean 2.0/5.1 and English 2.0/ 5.1. Optional English subtitles are often included, which are surprisingly readable. Like the picture, these audio tracks are clear and concise. A commentary on disc one is a worthwhile addition to the fearful festivities, including the invigorating opinions of Abn Byung, Leese-eun, Lee Yoo-ri, KimKyu-ri, and others. This involving discussion is informal yet informative. The cast and crew obviously had a nice relationship with one another while taking both the film and its story seriously. Among the areas this commentary explores are the difficulty of achieving pre-planned emotional and physical effects on limited budgets and production times, and how the natural elements lend horror films atmosphere. While a bit chatty at rimes, this degree of honest self expression lends a believability to the proceedings.

No surprisingly, an impressive amount of extras support this excellent supernatural film, creating an emotional, intellectual, and historical back-drop against which to further judge and appreciate the film and its filmmaker. A celebration of cast and crew, these supplements are both knowledgeable and exciting, showing a surprising, much-welcomed respect for the horror genre. Not the simple assemblage of bare-bones PR fluff, the first extra, featured on disc one, is a music video, which while far from instructive is enjoyable in a flashy way. This is followed by the film's theatrical trailer and Tokyo Shock spots for Man Behind the Scissors, Garudo, Nightmare, and One Missed Call (2). As welcome as these are, it is the second disc which cements this package's generosity. How can you not enjoy the "Making of Featurette" if you're a cinema enthusiast? Exchanging the usual self-glorification for a dissection of professional filming techniques, personal reflections, and cinematic philosophy, this featurette delivers the goods. Next is a "Stunts and Special FX Featurette," exploring the technical aspects of the FX and their part in the larger context of the story. A less meaty if amusing PR Photo Shoot comes next, followed by the featurette "Horror Film Theory," wherein the director waxes enthusiastic concerning his beliefs on the art, philosophy, and technical aspects of dark fantasy. This is followed by "Horror Films Vs. Actresses," the last featurette, which examines through interviews the beliefs and opinions that each of the three major actresses have concerning genre. Both of these later segments reveal a love and admiration for the genre which is too often missing in the industry. These folks display a knowledge and unapologetic enthusiasm for fear films, and deliver their opinions in a manner at once critically astute yet refreshingly unpretentious. A more or less routine Press Conference completes this otherwise impressive package of a frightening, technologically superior Asian horror film.

Review by William P. Simmons