How Media Scares Us: The Work of Junji Ito

Apr 04, 2020

When I was a kid, I remember being at a friend's sleepover. And at some point, someone pulls out a videotape of the movie "Twister." We all got together and started watching, and... Twister is not a horror movie, by any means. But about 40 minutes later, we get this shot of a drive-in movie theater. And on the theater screen was projected... A different movie. There's an unusual shot of a boy riding a tricycle down a long hallway, before being confronted by two... strange-looking little girls. And something about this scene just felt... off, like very, very off... I sat there paralyzed, feeling scared but having no idea why.

how media scares us the work of junji ito

I couldn't get that scene out of my head and I was trying and failing... not to freak out too much, until later that night when I had to admit defeat, hang my head in shame and call my parents. to pick me up. The ultimate social embarrassment for a ten year old at a birthday party. The movie was, of course, Stanley Kubrick's "The Shining" and it has since become one of my favorite movies of all time. But the question is: what was it about those 8 seconds of footage that scared me so much? And most importantly, how did he do it?

More Interesting Facts About,

how media scares us the work of junji ito...

In the scene itself, we start with this very long shot, the camera slowly moving down a hallway behind our character Danny. But what im

media

tely resonates here is the sense of movement. Because of the particular composition of the shot, there is a really strong sense of perspective. And this, combined with the slow camera movement, makes it seem like not only Danny is moving around the hotel, but we are too. We turn the corner and a beep sounds. And we're faced with this scene and I say 'we' because, again, that's what it feels like. Rather than watching something happen to someone else, the expert staging and shot composition makes it seem like we're the ones being confronted here.

And not only that, but there is a level of unsettling discomfort that we are faced with. While we can identify the girls as human, they are far enough away from the camera that we can't be one hundred percent sure, creating something akin to the discomfort caused by the uncanny valley. And it adds to this strange feeling that there is something about this scene that is very, very wrong. This, along with some truly incredible sound design, creates a scene that, even completely out of context and without dialogue, is still terrifying on a level that was too much for a younger me to handle.

And Kubrick constantly does this by using strange subtleties throughout the film to unsettle us. Either: consciously breaking continuity, making his actors look as macabre as physically possible or making use of ridiculous and disturbing images. However, what stands out to me about the hallway scene in particular is how it takes advantage of so many aspects that are unique to film, like camera movement, sound design, and uses them all to create a unique sense of horror. . In other words, it takes advantage of the power of real action to scare us. And this in turn always made me wonder: what advantages can other mediums like games, animation and comics offer in terms of horror, that perhaps live action can't?

And that's exactly what we're here to discuss! Draw the curtains, dim the lights, and get comfortable while we talk: Before we get into the details, I think it might be helpful to define what we specifically mean by "horror." Or, put another way, what we don't want to say. And what we don't mean is "shocks." If we step back for a second, let's talk about the nature of art. Art, as I see it, is something created by one person for the express purpose of eliciting emotions in another person. So good horror creates feelings of fear, tension, dread, etc.

And there are two reasons why I want to leave "shocks" out of this discussion. One, the way I see it, the "

scares

" are more of a physiological reaction than an emotional one. It's your body trying to defend itself against some perceived danger, not an emotional response. It's not difficult or complicated to create a jumpscare, in fact, if I wanted to, all I would have to do to jumpscare right now is let this screen go black, slowly finish my sentence and... Like, I'm not going to do it, but I could have done it. Secondly, I think what a lot of people, especially those unfamiliar with horror, think horror is, is the standard: setup, detour, jumpscare.

And recent cinema has only reinforced that notion. Which really sucks, because this is just one particular aspect of horror creation. And relying solely on this discounts much of what makes the genre worthwhile. That's not to say that jump

scares

can't be a lot of fun or that they aren't "true horrors." I actually enjoy the clever and even subtle jumpscares of the first

That must be built through atmosphere, strong images and rhythm. For example, the hallway scene from "The Shining" that we discussed. But there are plenty of other examples of great horror films that rely on fear and dread, rather than momentary jump scares. And inevitably, these seem to be the ones that end up being discussed years and years after their initial release. Take, for example, the fantastic "Rosemary's Baby" from 1968. In which a young Mia Farrow moves into an apartment complex occupied and run by a satanic cult. The fear does not come from any direct danger, but simply from the feeling that something is very wrong with both the building and its occupants.

There is no point in the film that will make you jump out of your seat, but the skill that went into its creation means that I have never forgotten that particular feeling of dread it created within me. It's this type of situational horror that I really enjoy and, I would say, nowhere does it better than video games. Video games present the horror genre with many unique opportunities, the main one being the contribution of the player himself. So horror is no longer an experience to be observed, but something in which the player must actively participate. We can no longer observe the victim, we are the victim.

And games like "ClockTower" or "Haunting Ground"

work

great. If you want to see a near-perfect combination of horror and game design, then you should look into the indie horror game "Witch's House." Despite the simple visuals, it shows horror gaming at its most accurate and intelligent, constantly creating expectations within the player, only to subvert those expectations, constantly psyching them out until something as simple as moving your character to a new room becomes in a daunting and terrifying task. task. This is not the only advantage created by player input; However, it also serves the distinct function of preventing players from getting bored.

This may seem obvious, but it's really something only video games can do. Take the first "Resident Evil" as an example, or better yet, its excellent remake. Despite how they've changed in recent times, the first "Resident Evil" focused intensely on isolation, exploration and fear. A solitary 8-hour adventure through a creepy mansion, interrupted only briefly by the appearance of other characters. Now imagine that in any other format it would be almost impossible to watch. Maintaining the audience's attention means that multiple characters must appear on screen so that dialogue can occur. But due to gameplay, video games do not have this restriction.

We can be alone and it's still attractive. And this, in turn, allows game designers to explore the feeling that comes with being isolated in an unknown and dangerous place. Horror animation is a bit strange to me, while the potential to create great horror is there, after all, animation can explain anything the mind cannot conceive, but genuinely great

work

s of horror animation are few and far between. A certain amount of this is due to how little horror animation actually exists, no doubt due to the misguided stigma of animation being a children's medium. But I think to a certain extent it is also due to the importance given to aesthetics in animation.

What I mean by this is that animators are trained to value things on an aesthetically pleasing level, i.e. the idea that 95% of all animation should look cool, pretty, or cute. And this in itself creates a barrier, since true horror needs a very particular type of aesthetic to really reach our skin. Take, for example, the horror anime "Another." While it's pretty fun on its own, one thing you'll notice about the images is that they are extremely pretty. The character designs all have a serene beauty, only offset by the many gruesome death scenes that take place. And while it's fun in a "Final Destination" sort of way, it seems more than anything the show wanted to be seen as a beautiful spectacle rather than a terrifying one.

And in doing so, it trades the ability to create a tense and terrifying atmosphere for compelling character designs. Now, take the aesthetic of the character and compare it to the stalker character from

While we're on the subject, while I'd be reluctant to refer to it as a horror, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention

And this will not be the last time we will talk about either of them on this channel. But other than that, I'd really struggle to think of many truly terrifying animated horrors, which again is a shame because in many ways the medium is perfect for it. If you know of any decent horror animation or anime, please let me know as it's something I'd like to see more of. Which brings us to comics, and not long ago I would have thought the same thing about horror comics as I did about animation. But that was before I discovered the work of a very particular artist, and that artist, Junji Ito.

Ito's work can be hauntingly beautiful and intensely terrifying; his illustrations don't seem to care about being aesthetically pleasing in the traditional sense. And it's not necessary. Nothing about the way Ito draws or creates stories is intended to make things easier for the reader. Rather, every line, every stroke is intensely focused on making the reader as physically uncomfortable as possible. Even his regular illustrations of humans have a haunting quality. And something as simple as a house cat can become disturbing and strange when illustrated by Ito. Which, if anything, shows how well he understands how to create creepy images;

After all, it's easy to make a demon or monster look scary, but a house cat? That's something completely different. It's through this that we can also see one of Ito's central philosophies: it's rare for any kind of pre-established horror convention to appear in his work, such as vampires or werewolves. Rather, Ito's illustrations focus primarily on the disorientation of the natural world or, as he puts it: taking something normal and looking at it upside down. And this goes a long way towards making Ito's creations feel even stranger and scarier, completely taking us out of our horror comfort zones.

Everyone knows the rules for dealing with zombies or vampires, but this damn thing? No, thanks. Ito's lack of trust in what he came before really makes him look for horror in places we otherwise wouldn't have considered. Ito finds horror not in dark castles or forbidden forests, but in our everyday lives. Take for example the brilliant

He would later find international success with miniseries like

This is never the case with Ito's work, we never get to look under the hood of his creations. All we get are brief glimpses. And instead of weakening his stories, he strengthens them. After all, what's scarier? A threat you can understand or one you can't even fathom? Take for example one of my favorite Ito shorts,

All attempts to combat and understand the balloons fail, we do not know where they came from and what their true purpose is, but it is not necessary. Finding out that the balloons were from another planet or some ancient evil wouldn't make them any scarier. There is no possible explanation that can match the murmurings of our subconscious here and Ito is aware of this, he is a master at giving us just enough information to scare us and then leaving us to speculate what it was or where it came from. In a normal narrative, this could be frustrating.

But what Ito is looking for here is not a normal narrative. And although it may seem strange, these are not character-driven or plot-driven stories. But it's discarding these elements that allows you to focus so deeply on the horror. And for this he has developed his own unique narrative structure. A normal narrative arc looks like this: It's essentially the emotional flow of a basic story. But with Ito, his stories are more like this: and what he really achieves, what makes him better than 99% of other horror writers, is his mastery of this peak right here. This sudden jolt of fear at the end of every story.

And what he uses to communicate it is a technique almost exclusively unique to comics. The one about turning the page. When we turn the page of a comic, new information is instantly communicated to us, and a good comic artist will use it to his advantage, either to meet our expectations or to subvert them. This works completely differently than turning the page of a written novel that has no images or a movie cut because it is the reader who controls when it happens. And into that space created by control, a good horror writer can inject fear and unease, something which, of course, Ito does masterfully.

Just when something really bad is about to happen, he always shows us this little panel right at the bottom of the page of our character reacting to something invisible. And then it's our turn to turn the page and oh God, what the fuck is that! The best example of this I can think of is one of Ito's most famous stories:

I'm going to leave this story there because I really think you need to experience it for yourself. But trust me, when you turn the last page, it will stay with you for a long, long time. And by the way, if that sounds familiar, it's because it was referenced in the first season of

And no, it's not the good kind of spiral. Seriously, that's the threat here. An abstract idea of a geometric shape. and it's horrible. In the same way that I think it's impressive that he can make everyday objects unsettling, I think the same goes for the premise. There is nothing terrifying about a spiral, just as there is nothing terrifying about a ghost or a serial killer. And yet, Ito manages to weave a tale of rampant corruption and horror. This becomes evident as soon as chapter one in which the father of one of the protagonists becomes obsessed with the idea of a spiral at first in a relatively low-key way, starts collecting things with spiral patterns and spends a lot of time examining them.

But before long he begins to exhibit behavior that unhinges him tirelessly, contorting his body and even his life into a spiral. And it ends with one of the best page turns Ito has ever done. However, this is only chapter one and what is fascinating about this story is how it escalates, at first in very small ways, as the father becomes obsessed with the spirals, the mother develops a violent phobia of them, which becomes a problem when you remember that spirals are part of our physical constitution. I won't say more about that, but... Yeah, it's bad. As things continue to progress, one of Ito's biggest influences becomes evident: the work of 19th century horror author H.P Lovecraft.

Lovecraft is the master of what is generally known as "cosmic horror": tales of ancient extraterrestrial beings so massive and advanced that even to contemplate them is to accept how truly insignificant man is and to suffer madness for it. Lovecraft always plays with this idea of horror through the perception that there are truths out there, mere concepts that are so overwhelming and dangerous to our human psyche that the mere discovery of them would destroy the way we see reality and therefore so much so, to ourselves, which is exactly the threat. introduced in

One aspect that I think is especially noteworthy about media: that they are relatively cheap to make and that they can be done by a single person, which not only allows comics to be highly authorial in nature, but also allows that strange and strange ideas are generated and generated. take hold and these are the ideas that are at the heart of Ito's strongest work.

These brilliantly unique and terribly strange concepts. And even though they are created with the express purpose of scaring us, the imagination and creativity in them cannot be denied. Which, by the way, is exactly what I think is missing from much of modern horror cinema and it's through auteurs like Ito that we begin to see what the horror genre is truly capable of. After all, horror at the end of the day is about evoking emotions. Not shocks, not voyeurism but emotion. And just like good art, good horror reaches deep within us and makes us feel things we didn't know were there.

Friends, that will do it for this video. Thank you for joining me today. A big shout out to my friend Rebecca, who did the opening art for this episode, whose tumblr is awesome and you should check it out, especially if you like

Sunshine!!

Watch Video & Subscribe

If you have any copyright issue, please Contact