The Curse

There’s a fine line between horror and comedy, and although the latest Kenichi Ugano film is very much in the former camp, it has moments, in its opening and closing scenes, when it flirts with the latter. This pushes the viewer into a dangerous space, where it’s not clear what one should feel. One might all too easily slip over the edge, in a film which is in significant part about the damage that can be done by impropriety.

We don’t know Shufen’s name when we first see her. She (Tammy Lin) is a stranger fleeing from something unknown, uncertain. In the process, she suffers a series of misfortunes so numerous as to become absurd, and so brutal as to leave her with no hope of survival. Despite this, six months later she still seems to be posting on her social media account. Riko (Yukino Kaizu) and Airi (Reika Oozeki), who lost touch with her some time previously, interact with her posts and watch a video in which somebody seems to be performing a ritual. As in Ring 27 years previously, the simple act of viewing opens up a whole world of trouble.

Screened as part of Fantastic Fest 2025, The Curse has many of the tropes of traditional J-horror, but departs from formula in interesting ways. The ghost at its centre is not Japanese but Taiwanese, taking a distinctive form, and as that ritual suggests, she’s not purely out for her own ends but has been summoned by a human actor. The film’s final scene casts an unusual light on this, painting the ghost – and perhaps wronged women more generally – as more than a tragic victim driven by vengeance. It recalls some of the energy and dynamism found in Taiwan’s most famous ghost stories, again complicating the viewer’s emotional response.

The scares along the way may (mostly) be old ones, but Ugana handles them with assurance. Little auditory tricks sow discomfort at just the right times, and both Kaizu and Oozeki prove adept at switching registers in an instant, so the shocks are convincing. These are more effective because they’re not too frequent. The first half of the film is heavy with a dread sense of inevitability. In the second half, Riko, now differently motivated, connects with her ex-boyfriend Jiahao (Yu), who has been living in Taiwan, and the two set out to try to solve the mystery and end the curse.

There are some nice little touches. The friendly neighbour dog who usually exchanges greetings with Riko as she walks home, and the night when its behaviour changes. The moment when Riko nervously peers underneath her bed and it’s what she doesn’t see that disturbs us. A stranger’s desperate warning. Danger, desperation and insight are all to be found on the margins of society. Riko finds strength in the conventional support structures of her life – a sympathetic boss, a loving father – but she still faces difficulties because of the inequalities in the society to which she belongs.

Death may lurk in the shadows here, but it moves by daylight. Bright, white-painted spaces give way to slowly deepening blues as the story progresses, so that when we see the colour red, it leaps out at us. The internet exists alongside this, like a new ethereal plane or some ancient place only recently opened up to the unwary. In the shared imaginary, patterns of light carry meaning, and even the most flippant of remarks can precipitate intense emotions. Have we lost our belief in curses because we are surrounded by them all the time? What will you carry with you after you finish watching this film?

Reviewed on: 22 Sep 2025