Cure

98 **Favourite Films** The bleak, unsupported, and off-kilter nature of this film comes from a deep and complex understanding of tension. Whatever builds, keeps building, and never gets resolved. I can almost hear Floating Points’ ‘Nespole’ or Dennis Wilson’s ‘Time’ in my head as I’m writing this review. The viewer is placed into this world of ambiguity and dread with no warning. No pleasure is then provided. I can say, with confidence, that this film is a masterclass in cinematography. Whether dusty, neutral tones emerge from a raw and untouched landscape or if vibrancy shines through ripples, the camera work remains controlled, visually intriguing, and very, very flat. If you know me, you’ll know I love the idea of a 2-dimensional image. This is not a criticism, this is a recognition of mastery. Each frame a painting: the depth is merely implied with artistry and light. Each angle and compositional choice a joy to observe and a narrative enhancer. The extraordinary visuals are silent. I can also say, with confidence, that this film is a masterclass in acting. The 2 leading roles both keep the mystery unresolved, and the stakes are raised even greater by the honest imperfections in their facial nerves: psychopathic intelligence or a wilting grasp on reality. Spontaneity seeps through these fluent performances, and the disaster becomes human, and therefore wrong. The flame is just like these 2 actors: rooted, natural, and unpredictably beautiful to observe and nurture. I can finally say, with confidence, that this film is a masterclass in sound design. The everlasting hum of the machine becomes unusually mellifluous, and suddenly soothes the constant gasps for air: a very unorthodox sensation. Yet, as long as the Lynch-esque subwoofer hum remains, terror and darkness will prevail. This is as good as Japanese psychological horror gets: an instant masterpiece. Immense!