Pulse
There’s something unnerving about “Pulse” that goes beyond the central conceit. As someone coming to the movie after “The Ring” (and “Ringu”) and “The Grudge” (and “Ju-On”), it’s fascinating how Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s film has practically left them behind in terms of how beloved it is among horror fans, and fans of Japanese horror. I wonder if it’s, in part, because he seems to be tapping into Y2K anxieties in his film, and the results of this particular haunting effect the world on a global scale. Most ghost stories focus on an individual situation; this one expands it in a way that takes us by surprise, but we ultimately cannot be surprised by. That is a unique talent to have as a filmmaker.
In “Pulse,” we follow two people whose stories will eventually merge into one. The first one, Michi (Kumiko Asô) has nived to Tokyo, and works at a nearby plant shop with friends. One of those friends, Taguchi, has been missing for several days. When Michi goes to see him, he is distracted, but after turning her back for a moment, she finds that he has hung himself. She finds a disc he was working on for work, but when she looks at it, she finds simply a series of images of his face staring at the computer monitor. Meanwhile, an economics student names Ryosuke (Haruhiko Katô). His computer begins acting on its own to access the internet, and he begins seeing disturbing images, as well.
When one thinks about this plot at its base, it’s almost supernatural horror by way of Assimov. I find myself thinking about the “Buffy” episode, “I Robot, You Jane,” which had a demon scanned onto the internet by accident, and monster goofiness occurs. “Pulse” is more foreboding in its approach, as its spirits manifest in the real world, often identified with a black substance where it was. This is a haunted house movie but on an expanded scale, as people try to figure out the truth. Where it deviates from most haunted house movies, of course, is that there are no easy solutions to get rid of these haunting spirits. They are here to create anxiety in the world, reflecting on our paranoia about technology in a way that goes beyond “Terminator”-like action. This is about something infecting the world, a pervasive force that makes us question our future. Kurosawa may well have called the anxiety of social media before it had a name. We are left wondering if we can find happiness again, once we’ve come in contact with the darkness in humanity through its own creation.
