The Curse

The Curse, directed by Kenichi Ugana, stands out as one of the most disturbing attempts to redefine J-horror in the digital age. While the genre has long been dominated by images of VHS tapes, grainy phone calls, and ghostly girls with long black hair, Kenichi Ugana brings the debate into the 21st century, where TikTok loops, Instagram filters, and curated social feeds have become the true vectors of terror. The story follows Riko, played by Yukino Kaizu, a young woman who finds herself drawn into a nightmare after discovering strange and disturbing posts from her Taiwanese friend Shufen, played by Tammy Lin. When Riko learns that Shufen has actually been dead for months, the reality of what she sees online begins to unravel. Shufen's disturbing presence on social media drags Riko and her friends into a nightmare where supernatural forces intrude on the digital world and where every click, like, or repost can have deadly consequences. Kenichi Ugana's concept seems timely and disturbingly relevant: while The Ring tackled the intimacy of personal videos, The Curse finds horror in the compulsive and public act of posting online.

What gives the film its weight is the way Kenichi Ugana plays with the atmosphere, terror, and vulnerability of everyday life. The film's opening sequences are masterful lessons in tension, using silence, off-screen sounds, and empty space to make us anticipate horrors that may or may not happen. Riko looking under her bed or hearing a sudden change in a neighbor's dog's barking becomes as terrifying as any jump scare, because these moments force us to confront our own sense of unease. When the ghost does appear, it is fleeting and fragmented: large, staring eyes, a grotesque tongue, or strands of hair appearing in food. Kenichi Ugana is smart enough to understand that the invisible is often more disturbing than the visible, and he makes the most of it. At the same time, he doesn't shy away from showing gory scenes, depicting violent and bloody deaths that are both shocking and imbued with dark humor, such as the absurdity of a murder initiated by a direct message. This tonal dance between black comedy and horror ensures that the film never becomes boring and keeps the audience in suspense as to whether they should laugh, gasp, or look away.

The performances anchor the film in something human, especially when the supernatural threatens to overwhelm everything else. Yukino Kaizu delivers a committed and nuanced performance as Riko, balancing fear and determination, ensuring that the audience always sees her as more than just a victim of the curse. Her journey transforms the film from a simple succession of horrors into a deeply personal story of someone who refuses to succumb to the inevitable. Reika Oozeki, as Riko's roommate Airi, brings tragic vulnerability to a character who meets one of the film's most horrific fates, while Yu, as Riko's ex-boyfriend Jiahao, plays a crucial role when the investigation moves to Taiwan. The supporting cast is equally effective: Ray Fan brings menace and ambiguity to his role as Huijun, Shufen's sister, while Yazukaze Motomiya and Yutaka Kyan provide a reassuring presence in the roles of Riko's father and employer. Each performance underscores how Kenichi Ugana situates his horror not in the abstract, but within families, workplaces, and friendships, reminding us that terror intrudes most violently into the spaces where we feel most secure.

Thematically, The Curse is both a supernatural tale and a sharp social commentary. Its use of social media as a vehicle for evil is not just a gimmick, but a reflection of how deeply these platforms are now tied to our identities. In a way, the ghost is terrifying; in another, the greatest horror lies in the ease with which people expose themselves online, measuring their worth against the sugar-coated versions of other people's lives. Kenichi Ugana's story functions as an allegory for the anxieties of our digital existence: excessive sharing, the pressure to display happiness, and how viral attention fuels cycles of cruelty and obsession. In one of the film's most sickening motifs, hair appears in food, grotesquely reminding us how what is shared publicly can seep into the private and intimate sphere. These images linger long after the film ends, not only because they are disturbing in themselves, but also because they echo how invasive and corrosive our online culture can be.

Despite all its qualities, the film stumbles in its third act, when the narrative shifts heavily to Taiwan. The introduction of Huijun, a highly explanatory character, slows the momentum, and the film's spectral presence becomes less frequent just when it should be at its most terrifying. The climax, while functional, feels predictable compared to the originality of the preceding sequences, and some digital effects, particularly the use of fake blood, undermine the carefully crafted atmosphere of dread. These weaknesses, however, do not erase the film's brilliant first half; rather, they underscore the difficulty of maintaining innovation in a genre so tied to its traditions. Kenichi Ugana borrows heavily from the scripts of Ring and Ju-On, but injects enough freshness to keep the film captivating, even if it doesn't quite reach the same heights.

What makes The Curse memorable is its refusal to tie everything up neatly. The ending reframes the ghost not only as a vengeful monster, but also as a figure shaped by human cruelty, rituals, and obsession. In doing so, Kenichi Ugana draws on deeper cultural resonances, drawing inspiration from both Taiwanese folklore and Japanese tradition. The final images are ambiguous, disturbing, and thought-provoking, forcing the audience to reconsider what they have seen and where their sympathies lie. In this sense, The Curse is more than just a scare machine: it's a story about the cycles of exploitation and suffering that fuel horror myths and how modern technology makes those cycles inevitable. The entity is terrifying, but perhaps the real curse lies in our inability to stop watching, posting, and consuming.

Ultimately, The Curse is a film that proves Kenichi Ugana is one of the most intriguing voices in contemporary Japanese genre cinema. While it may falter at times, it succeeds in updating the J-horror formula for an age of algorithms and influencers, where terror comes not from dusty videotapes, but from endless scrolling and digital intimacy. With a captivating central performance from Yukino Kaizu, a rich blend of gore and atmosphere, and an incisive theme, it presents itself both as a tribute to the legacy of J-horror and as a warning about the anxieties of our hyperconnected world. It may not revive the genre's global dominance, but it certainly reminds us that the ghosts we fear most are often those already lurking in our feeds.

The Curse
Written and directed by Kenichi Ugana
Produced by Tsuyoshi Hitomi, Hiroaki Saizu, Ling Ming-Chih
Starring Ray Fan, Yukino Kaizu, Mimi Shao, Shiho, Yu
Cinematography:
Edited by
Music by
Production companies: Rights cube
Distributed by Rights cube (World)
Release dates: NC
Running time: 94 minutes

Seen on September 21, 2025 (press screener Fantastic Fest 2025)

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