Noroi: The Curse, Kōji Shiraishi’s 2005 pseudo-documentary, is one of only a small handful of films to use its chosen genre to the fullest extent. Along with The Blair Witch Project, it wields the cutting edge of plausible veracity as more than just a gimmick to sell tickets. As Masafumi Kobayashi, a documentary filmmaker fascinated by the supernatural, Jin Muraki is a creative weapon so subtle it’s hard to figure out what’s happening to draw the viewer in so powerfully. Put simply, the key is his normalcy. His chubby face and bad posture, his rumpled clothes and cheap car; he’s so believably unthreatening, so everyman familiar while still holding onto a distinct personality, that the movie feels like it’s happening to a friend you used to know and now don’t hear from often.
The omnipresence-through-absence of wealth is another force which focuses the power of Shiraishi’s film. The mentally ill Hori in his cluttered, filthy home, the barren apartments and houses of the cultists; even the modest suburban affluence of the psychic prodigy Kana’s parents feels shocking after so long spent crawling through economic desperation with the inquisitive Kobayashi and his cameraman, Miyajima. Much is left unspoken, even after the unearthing of the story of the demon Kagutaba. It was summoned by the impoverished villagers of Shimokage in 1978, but for what purpose? It disobeyed them, but why? Why is the violently deranged Junko Ishii so intent on summoning the demon once again? The thread of poverty running through these ruined lives and places suggests a simple answer: desperation.
From its actors to its plotting, Noroi is built with rigorous believability. Its few forays into in-setting television provide just enough contrast to accentuate the misery of its broken cultists and their desolate homes, the average-ness of its schlubby protagonists. By creating such a unified vision the film finds a deep resonance with the experience of poverty, the tunnel vision of going without day after day until your world narrows to a single point of lack. It’s often ranked as one of the most frightening films of all time, and without that key it can be difficult to understand exactly why. It’s scary because so many of us have felt that crawling, desperate dread, because we know the world that Noroi shows us, and that its teeth and claws are real.