Cure Explained | Movie Mastery

What is Cure about?

Cure explores the role of repression in day to day life, specifically the burden and cost of being part of society, community, or a relationship. How much do you become what others need and want you to be? When should you be true to yourself? Can you ever be yourself? And what happens when you reach a tipping point? A breaking point? 

Cast

• Kenichi Takabe – Kōji Yakusho
• Fumie Takabe – Anna Nakagawa
• Sakuma – Tsuyoshi Ujiki
• Kunio Mamiya – Masato Hagiwara
• Dr. Akiko Miyajima – Yoriko Dōguchi
• Written by – Kiyoshi Kurosawa
• Directed by – Kiyoshi Kurosawa

Understanding Cure

The opening story about Bluebeard

At her psychiatry appointment, Fumie Takabe reads a fairytale. Once upon a time, in a forest lived a man and his beautiful daughter. One day, a golden carriage drawn by six horses stopped before their house. Out of the carriage stepped a king. “Would you give me your daughter to be my wife?” he asked the man. Delighted, the man agreed. Truth be told, the king was very handsome, his only flaw being his beard, which was blue. Apart from this, there was no fault to be found with him.”

A few lines later, she tells the doctor, “I know how the story ends. In the end, the daughter kills Bluebeard.” 

If you just look at what’s in the film, then Bluebeard is this innocent guy, a king no less, who has “no fault to be found with him” aside from the color of his facial hair. You would imagine he and the woman could easily have a happily-ever-after. So why does the daughter kill this seemingly fine man?

When we look at what happens in Cure, the murders reveal themselves to be the byproduct of a festering frustration someone has but never acts on. The first involves no dialogue, we have no idea of the man’s life aside from being a professional who visits escorts. The second, Tōru Hanaoka, seemed to have a perfectly happy marriage and life. The third, Oida, is when we finally see a bit of frustration, as his coworker is a by-the-book kind of guy, a bit of a killjoy. You can imagine Oida disliked working with someone like that. The fourth killer, the doctor, has an anger towards men for how they limited her career aspirations, blocking her route to being a surgeon and reducing her to a general practitioner. For a long time now, she’s harbored a desire to cut into a man. And that’s exactly what she does. 

With that information, we now know Mamiya’s playing into a resentment someone has, one they never act on but it gnaws at them. Going back to the first, it makes sense that a business professional seeing an escort might have resentment toward women. And you can imagine Tōru’s marriage having its share of exasperations that Mamiya could prey on. Oida confirms he hated his fellow police officer. 

So the story of Bluebeard, as told by Fumie, speaks to the way in which something as minor as having a blue beard can infuriate a person. In reality, we keep those emotions to ourselves. But in the fairytale, the emotion comes out. And that’s exactly the “cure” Miyama’s giving to the people he hypnotizes. He allows them to eradicate the source of their vexation.

Here’s where it gets interesting. The story of Bluebeard is famous. He’s not some perfect man with a strange beard. But a serial killer who uses his wealth to mask his crimes. He’s been married six times and each wife vanishes, never to be found. The daughter acts in self-defense, after finding a basement chamber where he had kept the bodies of the previous wives. 

You could argue that Kurosawa left that bit out because it was extraneous to what he wanted to explore in Cure. Or you could argue he left it out because he wanted viewers to have an ah-ha moment in terms of what it meant for Takabe, as Takabe ultimately pulls a Bluebeard himself. Then uses Mesmer’s powers to incite others. He is this seemingly normal, good guy, a detective!, who has this dark secret. While we only get snapshots of Mamiya’s other victims, we get the full portrait of Takabe. 

The meaning of the titles: Cure and The Missionary

Kurosawa had initially titled the film Dendōshi. That translates to either Missionary or Evangelist. Missionary makes more sense to me, especially as we get dialogue that speaks directly to that. 

• Takabe: So what is Mamiya, then? What’s your guess? Tell me.
• Sakuma: A missionary.
• T: A missionary?
• S: Sent to propagate the ceremony.

Why change it? Because in 1995, the Aum Shinrikyo cult launched a religiously-motivated terrorist attack in Tokyo. Five members each left leaking packets of a nerve agent, sarin, on different train cars from different lines throughout the city. This resulted in 14 deaths and over 1,000 injured. You can imagine if a movie called Dendōshi came out a mere two years later that it might seem as if it were inspired by or trying to relate to the Aum Shinrikyo. Which some might find in bad taste. And obviously wasn’t Kurosawa’s intention. 

So they changed the title to Cure. That actually tells us a lot. Because with EvangelistMissionary, the obvious question is “What is Mamiya promoting? What faith? What belief? What is he an evangelist of? A missionary for?” If that were the title, we’d be trying to find those answers. Instead, it’s Cure. Which seems to answer the first question about Mamiya’s missionary work. He’s a missionary for the cure. But the cure for what?

The answer to that eludes us until the penultimate scene, when Takabe, having slain Mamiya, finds the phonograph and hears the voice of mesmerist Suejiro Bakuro. Quote: Fearsome…heart of…His…healing hand. Road of healing… Not a long… Take sword… A man…but dew. Heal, O…water grass! … O winter…falls…snow. That…heal…snow. Take…in hand…heal.

If Mamiya was a missionary of Bakuro—and Bakuro’s promoting this version of healing, one that involves taking up a sword, that gains freedom from animosity through the annihilation of the source—then that’s where the new title, Cure, derives from. 

To restate that in less poetic terms. Bakuro essentially believed that resentment was a poison. You heal by ridding yourself of the thing that bothers you.  

Takabe finally eats

Kurosawa uses Takabe’s appetite as a throughline over the course of the film. 

The first time we see him at home with his wife, they converse while reheating dinner. We see them put the food in the microwave, get glasses out, get side dishes, make small talk, plan a trip. Takabe sits down, stands up, sits back down. After a few minutes, he finally takes one bite. Then tries to read the paper, gets up, leaves, then we cut to the next day. It’s seemingly normal but actually quite stressful in that no one ever relaxes. Vicariously speaking, you, the viewer, don’t feel the satisfaction of eating. 

The next time Takabe comes home, dinner isn’t on the table. So he realizes Fumie’s not home and may be wandering, lost, due to her psychiatric issues. 

The third time we see Takabe at home, he has the vision of his wife hanging in the kitchen. Only for her to be perfectly healthy and right there in front of him, preparing a fruit smoothie. 

The last time Takabe comes home, the dinner left for him is raw meat. Fumie forgot to cook it. It’s obvious she needs more help than he can provide. But he’s also angry. So he takes her to the mental hospital. On the way, she thinks they’re going on a vacation. Notice her dialogue. “Let’s eat lots of good food. What do you want to eat?” She’s joyful and excited about food. Takabe’s serious and answers her question with a statement: “Fumie, we’re not going to Okinawa.” The next scene shows Takabe at the dry cleaners and they’ve lost his clothes. More sadness. He ends up at a diner. It’s mid-meal and the waitress asks if she can take his plate. It’s completely untouched. Still full of food. Despite having an appetite, his mood is so dour that he won’t eat, can’t eat. 

Then, at the end, after he has shot Mamiya, listened to the phonograph about healing, then X-ed Fumie, we see Takabe back at the restaurant. The shot sequence starts with Takabe taking a last, large bite of food. Two empty plates sit before him. He chugs the last of his water and pushes everything away. Content. 

We finally get the payoff of the unfinished meal from 90 minutes earlier. Takabe is mentally and emotionally able to eat. Why? Because he’s been cured. 

Cured of what?

When Takabe has his one-on-one conversation with Mamiya, Kurosawa included some important dialogue. 

• Mamiya: Does it bother you, talking about your wife?
• Takabe: Anyway, there’ll be lots of time. You can’t get out of here. 
• M: It’s you who wants out.
• T: I know what you did. 
• M: Tell me whatever you like. That’s why you came, isn’t it? 
• T: You planted hypnotic suggestions in those people’s minds. 
• M: It’s hard to be a detective with a crazy wife. 
• T: Shut up.
• M: You do it by keeping your work and your family life completely separate. 
• T: How did you do it? 
• M: The detective or the husband, which is the real you?
• T: How did you hypnotize them?
• M: Neither one is the real you. There is no real you. Your wife knows that, too. 
• T: How did you hypnotize them? 
• M: Watch [lights lighter]
• T: [Smacks lighter to the floor] You’re right. My wife is a burden. I know. You don’t have to tell me! I’m a detective. I’ve been taught never to show emotion, even with my family. And this is the result. I don’t understand her. She doesn’t understand what I go through. I know it’s my fault that it’s that way. So what? 
• M: What else could you do?
• T: That’s right! What other way is there? Look, you think this is how I wanted to end up? We should all relax, enjoy ourselves, lead peaceful lives. But society isn’t like that!
• M: Oh, so society’s to blame. 
• T: It’s people like you. It’s guys like you who have my head about to split open! Lunatics like you have it easy while citizens like me go through hell! I spend my whole life taking care of that wife of mine! If it weren’t for you…things would be fine with my wife and me. Her I can forgive. But you I can’t. 

There’s a lot to discuss there. But I want to stick to three main points. 

First, Mamiya establishes Takabe’s identity crisis with the line “There is no real you.” He’s been “detective” or “husband” for so long that he has lost track of what it means to be Takabe.

Second, we find out Takabe’s resentment. “My wife is a burden.” 

And third, we have the lines about society. So much of Cure is focused on individual characters and their choices based on the microcosm they exist in. Issues are local and contained to tensions in a domestic situation or work. When Takabe finally says “But society isn’t like that” it’s the first time Kurosawa hints at a larger application to the film’s themes. That’s made clear in the follow up to Mamiya’s rhetorical “Oh, so society’s to blame.” Takabe states, “Lunatics like you have it easy while citizens like me go through hell.” And how “If it weren’t for you…things would be fine with my wife and me.” 

Mamiya becomes a figure that represents society’s “lunatics”. You could reduce that to only referring to the criminal element. But you could also apply it to anyone who is on the fringe. Think about Mamiya versus Takabe. Takabe is a husband and detective. That’s it. While Mamiya lacks the burden of such labels. He doesn’t have the same responsibilities. In many ways, he’s free to drift and dream. The implications of that in a culture as role-centric as Japan’s, where collectivism has, traditionally, been more important than individualism, can’t be understated.

This question of identity comes up over and over again, as Mamiya asks “Who are you?” a dozen times. Of note is Mamiya’s criminal hearing. 

• Mamiya: Who are you?
• Fujiwawa: Fujiwara, from headquarters.
• [A few lines later] 
• M: Who are you?
• F: Fujiwara. Headquarters.
• M: Who?
• F: Are you being smart?
• M: Who are you?
• F: Takabe, what’s wrong with this man?
• M: I’m asking who you are.
• F: Answer my question!
• M: All right, I’ll ask you again. Fujiwara-of-Headquarters. Who are you?
• F: What…exactly do you mean? 
• M: You think about that. 

Fujiwara then runs away. Notice that Fujiwara had attached his profession to his identity. When Mamiya kept asking “Who are you?” he didn’t mean it in a superficial way of “What is your name and your role?” He meant in the deepest, most existential way possible. Does Fujiwara know who he is? Not who he is supposed to be based on his profession. Which is exactly what he was getting at with Takabe and how Takabe has defined himself by being a detective and a husband. 

In the aftermath of the conversation with Fujikawa, all the serious officials erupt as they try to figure out what to do about Mamiya. To which Mamiya says to Takabe: “What a bunch. They don’t understand, do they? About me. Or about you. Detective, do you hear my voice? You do, don’t you? That proves you’re a special person. You knew that from the start. So did I. You’re different from them. You’re someone who can understand what I’m really saying.” Takabe, to repay the compliment, grabs Mamiya by the face then shoves him into a wall. 

Once Takabe captures Mamiya, his turn to violence increases. More and more, that resentment he feels bubbles to the surface and can’t be tamed. That culminates with the final confrontation with Mamiya at the abandoned hospital. The proper thing to do would be for Takabe to arrest Mamiya and return him to the justice system for a fair trial. Instead, Takabe shoots Mamiya. He gives in to his resentment that Mamiya got to be one of the lunatics who was always care-free. Who wasn’t defined by role or responsibility. That emptiness, the lack of identity, meant freedom from everything. Something Takabe desperately sought. 

So now we can answer what Mamiya “cured” Takabe of. Being a “citizen” in the sense of living up to the expectations and responsibilities of his various roles in a life and the lack of self that came with that. By shooting Mamiya, Takabe is no longer the virtuous detective. And by Bluebearding Fumie, he’s free of being a husband. He becomes one of the lunatics. Unburdened. At peace. Hungry.

Cure’s ending explained 

The actual story

Let’s ignore the thematics for a second and just clarify what happens at the end of Cure. In the original script, the film ended with Takabe on Shirasato Beach, where we first meet Mamiya. It was a way to bring the film full-circle and show that Takabe had become the new missionary. 

Instead, Kurosawa changed that to the restaurant. Takabe cleans his plate and sits satisfied. He answers a phone call and says “Bring the car around.” We’ve seen other officers drive him to various crime scenes, so it’s probably something in relation to his detective work. He smokes, drinks his coffee. The camera pushes past him to give a better visual of the dining area. Takabe’s waitress moves from a table to the server station. There, a manager whispers something to her then walks away. The waitress glides over to another table, picks up a giant knife, then follows after the manager. The end. 

So we know that Takabe was supposed to become the next Mamiya. That’s implied in several ways throughout Cure. Like when Mamiya says that Takabe can hear his voice and understand what Mamiya’s really saying. He says “They don’t understand, do they? About me. Or about you.” And then during the big interrogation scene, Takabe uses Mamiya’s lighter against him, by igniting it then leaving it on the table, flame dancing. Instinctively, Takabe tries to mesmerize the mesmerist. Then Mamiya makes the X in front of Takabe before the final gunshot. And lastly there’s Takabe listening to the old mesmerist phonograph recording that talks about healing, the mission.

That means it’s probably not a coincidence when the waitress takes up the knife to go after her boss (Kurosawa said that he actually shot the confrontation but cut it, opting for the subtlety of what we see in the finished product). Takabe made her do it. The question, though, is whether it was intentional or not? Because he doesn’t ask questions like Mamiya. So either it happened prior to what the viewer sees, or Takabe’s that powerful he can hypnotize people much easier than Mamiya. Or it’s something that’s happening unconsciously, triggered by his mere presence. 

What we know is that Takabe’s in a happier place. That’s why he has his appetite. The two things that had burdened him were Mamiya and Fumie. Mamiya’s gone. And we have the wild shot of Fumie’s corpse leaving the mental hospital. So she’s gone too. If Mamiya’s goal was to “propagate the ceremony”, to be a missionary, and cure others. Then we can assume that Takabe will, in his own way, do the same. It doesn’t matter if he’s actively doing it or not. What matters is that he’s no longer a citizen who will be concerned by the troubles of the world, even if that’s his job. He’s free and that will inspire others to pursue the same. 

“But was the showdown with Mamiya real? Was Fumie’s death?” Either way, it’s real to Takabe, and that’s what matters to the end of the story. For example, he’d never visit Fumie again and simply leave her to wither in the hospital. With that said, as much as Cure plays with perception, I don’t think the goal is to leave the viewer questioning reality. So it seems safe to take events at face value. 

What the ending is about

There’s a level where Cure is just about the idea that everyone has a tipping point and can snap.

In 2020, Kurosawa did an interview with filmmaker Ryusuke Hamaguchi, and said: Often when a murder incident occurs, and you see a friend or a neighbor get interviewed on the TV news, and so on, after the culprit is arrested, they generally say, “I never imagined he or she would…” They’re so polite. And what is generally reported in those instances is that it was actually a horrible killer pretending to be, or wearing the mask of, a good father, a polite person, a courteous person. But I wondered if that really was the case. Couldn’t a good father, a courteous person, a polite person, suddenly kill someone without having a secret homicidal side? …. I did think it could be scary if an absolutely ordinary person who you’d never peg to do so would, and in a single shot, no less, suddenly commit murder. 

So the real horror of Cure is its suggestion that all of us have resentments that make us capable of a volcanic outburst. Not just truly evil people. Everyone. It’s simply a matter of reaching a tipping point where your anger overwhelms your logic. 

But “death of the author” suggests we shouldn’t look to Kurosawa for the answer. Rather, we should look at what’s in the film. 

We’ve established Cure’s emphasis on repressed resentment; Mamiya’s role in “curing” people of this poison; how Takabe’s appetite represents the state of his psyche; and the larger societal implications relating to identity. 

Remember, that movies often act as metaphors. So the question isn’t “Why did Takabe kill Fumie?” It’s “What does the death represent?” In this case, it’s the end of the marriage. Likewise, Mamiya inspiring the murders is simply a dramatic representation of encouraging them to express what they’re feeling rather than repress, repress, repress. The film’s message is not “you should hurt someone to relieve stress.” It’s “you don’t have to accept how things are. You can make changes.” 

I know I said we would ignore Kurosawa, but he said something, in a separate interview from years ago, I found particularly interesting. In my view, there is a fundamental difference between American horror and Japanese horror views. In American movies, you’ll always find monsters, ghosts, strange creatures. Someone, usually the protagonist, must then fight them. In those Japanese movies, which gained so much success in the last years, Ringu is a best case in this sense, no fight takes place, contrary to Americans. The protagonist has to face something. Something of the unexpected, which he himself does not know well. Something that the audience doesn’t know. Thus there’s no fight in Japanese horror film.

So Kurosawa believed the protagonist fighting the monster defined American horror. And that Japanese horror has no fight. Yet we see in Cure that Takabe is particularly violent. Multiple times, Sakuma tells Takabe to calm down and stop traumatizing people. Takabe assaults Mamiya, then immediately attacks the cop who had told Mamiya about Takabe’s wife. While you might not classify the final encounter as Takabe fighting Mamiya, the protagonist uses violence to “defeat” the strange creature that’s plagued him. 

What I’m trying to say is that I think there’s something to the idea that Cure speaks to the rise of Western individualism in Japan. This awakening to the idea of “who am I?” that conflicted so strongly with the country’s traditional ethos of “what am I”? 

For example, I found a paper from 2012 called “Personal identity in Japan”, by Kazumi Sugimura and Shinichi Mizokami. The abstract reads: This chapter explores characteristics of identity formation among Japanese adolescents and young adults living in a cultural context where individualism has been increasingly emphasized even while maintaining collectivism. We argue that, to develop a sense of identity in Japanese culture, adolescents and young adults carefully consider others’ perspective, resolve conflicts between self and others, and, in some cases, merge themselves into relationships and groups rather than pursuing their own uniqueness. However, at the same time, as Japanese society changes in various ways, such as the educational and employment systems, a traditional type of identity may gradually become less functional. A new identity configuration, individualistic collectivism, emerges. 

I read Cure as Kurosawa’s reflection on—probably unconsciously so—changes within Japanese culture following the Western influences that flooded the country post-World War II. The Bluebeard story at the beginning? French. Franz Mesmer? German. Takabe’s way of dealing with Mamiya? American. Even the age difference between Takabe and Mamiya. Takabe’s in his 40s, while Mamiya was in his 20s. There’s a generational divide between them. With Takabe being more traditional and Mamiya being more of a care-free spirit influenced by philosophy from the West. Adding to this is Cure’s original name. The Missionary or Evangelist. A term associated with Christianity, one of the first Western influences to arrive in Japan.

Remember how Takabe positioned himself as a “citizen”. That implies an identity defined by what society asks of you. Where Mamiya isn’t concerned with what’s asked of him. Rather, he’s the one asking. Probing. Questioning. And each of those questions causes people to forget about being a citizen and embrace their individual desire. 

Even though Takabe ends the movie in a happy place. Should he be happy? Are we happy for him? Kurosawa doesn’t position Takabe’s newfound freedom as something we should root for. Rather, it’s horrifying. Again, don’t think of Takabe as actually murdering. Say Fumie’s death represents their divorce. On the one hand, you might understand Takabe wanting to leave such a difficult marriage. It is easier for him, less stress on him. But isn’t marriage a sacred vow? Is the commitment not something we should take seriously? Likewise, it was easier for him to dispatch Mamiya than bring the criminal to justice. He’s satisfied that he closed the case. Let’s say that represents cops who take the law into their own hands. They break rules when it feels like the right thing to do. Is that who we want serving and protecting? 

So if Cure is about the tension between individualism and collectivism, the ultimate position is that the former feels better for the person but it might not be good for society on the whole. And that individualism is very alluring. It spreads. Because it feels like a cure. When it might be another kind of poison. 

With all that said, I don’t think Kurosawa himself shares such a critical view on Western influence. Rather, he was simply exploring a darker side of it, an extreme side of it, a worst case scenario. I’d look at Cure more as a question than a statement. For people, what’s the proper balance between repression and expression? All societies, all cultures struggle with individualism and collectivism. Which is probably why Cure is so internationally-acclaimed and relevant almost 30 years after release. Very few movies speak to this aspect of the human condition, despite its importance.

Bluebeard

We talked at the beginning about the Bluebeard story and how in the original version Bluebeard had six wives. Slew them all. And it’s the seventh who ends up doing the same to him. Someone might wonder why Kurosawa has Fumie mention the wife killing the husband when that doesn’t happen in the movie. Rather, it’s the husband who does in the wife. I have a theory. 

Remember how Kurosawa had Takabe set down for a meal he never eats? He did that to create a lack of closure in the viewer. Closure he then provides in the final scene when Takabe finally eats. What if Kurosawa did the same with Bluebeard? He introduced it, but then purposefully refrained from having the end of the movie line up with the end of the story. Why? Because we’re only in the middle of it. Takabe becomes a Bluebeard figure. With the implication being that one day, one of his wives will figure it out and kill him. We just don’t see it in the movie. But that’s what will eventually happen.

Again, that’s just a theory. Pure speculation. But the narrative set-up is there. 

How did Mamiya’s powers work?

Our best insight into Mamiya’s powers comes from his conversation with the doctor. He says, “Doctor, can I tell you something? All the things that used to be inside me, now they’re all outside. So, I can see all of the things inside you, Doctor. But the inside of me is empty.”

There are moments throughout Cure where Mamiya demonstrates knowledge of someone’s life that he would have no way of knowing. Like when Tōru mentions his wife, Mamiya responds with “Oh, the woman in the pink negligee.” The wife was upstairs the entire time, so there’s no way Mamiya could know that. Which means he saw it inside of Tōru. Same with when he tells the doctor about a memory where she’s back in med school. And knew that Takabe had the vision of his wife hanging. 

That’s essentially the only explanation we get. Some process emptied Mamiya of his own identity so he could see into other people and bring out their repressed feelings, inspiring them to “heal” through violence. 

Sakuma does say: “Do you know what they called hypnotism in Japan back then [19th century]? ‘Soul conjuring.’ Like clairvoyance, spiritualism—that sort of thing. The authorities in any age always suppress occultism.”

The term “soul conjuring” does a lot of work there. As it essentially explains “Mamiya underwent a process that gives him the power to interact with someone’s soul.” 

What was the ceremony?

Back to Sakuma. When he explains about soul conjuring, he says “the Meiji government back then would have suppressed this technique. It would only have been performed in secret ceremonies.” Then he has his hallucination. Then wakes up to Takabe asking “So what is Mamiya, then?” And Sakuma explains: “A missionary. Sent to propagate the ceremony.” 

We mentioned it earlier, but the “ceremony” seems to tie back to the phonograph Takabe listens to at the end. Fearsome…heart of…His…healing hand. Road of healing… Not a long… Take sword… A man…but dew. Heal, O…water grass! … O winter…falls…snow. That…heal…snow. Take…in hand…heal.

Inspiring people to heal from what hurts them, via hypnotism, is a nice concept. But the cure is destroying the source of the pain. It’s one thing if the source is an inanimate object. Another thing when it’s a person. 

This tracks with what we see with Mamiya’s victims and Takabe himself. They’re convinced to extinguish their greatest source of stress. 

What about Sakuma?

Sakuma is the only Mamiya victim who hurts himself rather than someone else. You could argue that’s because he was his own greatest source of stress, that all of his repressed feelings weren’t about others but himself. Which is pretty fitting for the psychologist character. 

The thing that stands out to me is the handcuffs. That made it seem like Sakuma actively prevented himself from going anywhere. As if he were afraid the hypnosis would kick in and he would leave to go hurt whoever, maybe even Takabe. But, instead, he cuffed himself, then maybe took his own life before anything more could happen. We saw how rattled he was following the vision then realizing he had painted the X on the wall. So you could argue he had a sense of impending doom and went out on his own terms. He’d rather remove himself from the equation than let Mamiya turn him into a murderer.  

The elements

I just wanted to note the use of elements in Cure. We first see Mamiya use the flame of a lighter to hypnotize. He then uses spilled water. Later, he bangs on a radiator and it causes the building to shake as if in an earthquake. And at the final confrontation between Mamiya and Takabe, Kurosawa emphasizes the wind. So you have fire, water, earth, and air all play a part in Mamiya’s scenes. Even light and dark.

I don’t have some deeper analysis here. I just thought it was cool and adds to the film’s style and aesthetic.

How did Mamiya escape from jail?

We see Mamiya bash on the radiator with a stool. It seems he used that as a means of hypnosis. The question is: who on? The most likely candidate is the police officer stationed there. We see him staring at the rattling materials on the desk. Then, after Takabe arrives, that officer’s on the ground, outside Mamiya’s door, dead. 

But, at the abandoned mental hospital, Mamiya says, “Why did you let me escape? You know why. But letting me escape, you could learn my true secret. All by yourself.” That makes it sound like Takabe was involved in Mamiya’s escape. And there is that shot of Takabe walking through the halls of the ward. It’s possible Mamiya called Takabe there and Takabe, somewhat hypnotized, eliminated the other cop, the one who had told Mamiya about Takabe’s wife, then let Mamiya go free.

We actually don’t have enough information to say either way. If it was the other officer, why would he then hurt himself? No one else had. If it wasn’t the other officer, whoever it was took out the officer for getting in the way. That could be Takabe. Or one of the nurses. If it wasn’t Takabe, not hypnotized, then why would Mamiya ask “Why did you let me escape?” He could have been speaking broadly, as in they made it so easy to escape that it must have been Takabe doing that on purpose.

Either way, I don’t think it changes much. We know Takabe has a love-hate relationship toward Mamiya and Mamiya’s sense of freedom. So if it was Takabe, it just shows how desperate he is for answers. And if it wasn’t Takabe, then it’s simply Mamiya using his power to hypnotize someone there to let him leave. 

The better question isn’t how. It’s why.

Why did Mamiya escape from jail?

As dumb as Mamiya pretends to be, he still has a mission. To spread the ceremony. Whether Takabe was part of his plan all along or became part of it over the course of the film, it seemed that, at the end, his goal was to initiate Takabe. 

Who is the villain?

So Franz Mesmer was this German doctor born in 1734. He’s actually the one who coined the phrase “animal magnetism” based on his belief that all living things connected to and shared the same sea of energy. Putting someone in a trance state was initially thought a byproduct of this kind of magnetism, also called mesmerism. In the 1800s, scientists across the world started discovering the physical mechanisms that caused hypnosis (which it started being called). 

In the world of the movie, a Japanese doctor, Suejiro Bakuro, late in the 19th century, took up Mesmer’s teachings. This is who we see in the video Sakuma shows Takabe. “Her name was Suzu Murakawa. She was treated for hysteria. That’s all that’s recorded. Police records say she was arrested for the murder of her son in 1898. She seems to have killed him by carving the shape of a cross into his neck.”

You can imagine Suzu had struggled with being a mother. Bakuro hypnotized her then encouraged her to “cure” herself by getting rid of her son. And she did. 

Bakuro seems mentioned briefly in the book Sakuma finds at Mamiya’s, Heresies, but his face is erased in the photo. It seems he was recognized as some authority on Mesmer. And, later, before his final encounter with Mamiya, Takabe sees that same faceless image of Bakuro in the abandoned hospital. Which is why I speculate it’s Bakuro’s voice on the phonograph. While Bakuro’s no longer living, it seems his teachings carry on. Mamiya is simply a disciple. 

So Mesmer, not the villain. He just laid a theoretical foundation. Bakuro adopted Mesmer’s teachings and formed his own theories. He and his legacy would be the villain. With Mamiya as a victim of Bakuro.

What’s with the washing machine always being on?

It’s part of Fumie’s forgetfulness. She turns the washer on even though there’s nothing in it. It’s one of the things that stressed Takabe out. Not only is it annoying but it reminds him of just how sick his wife is. 

What happened at the dry cleaners? 

When Takabe first goes to the dry cleaners, the man in line ahead of him says, under his breath, “Bunch of idiots. What did I do wrong? I do things my way. What? Go to hell! Damn right I’m mad! Stop f***ing around, you dumb s***!” When the proprietor returns with the man’s dry cleaning, the guy immediately switches gears and says “Thank you, very much” then leaves.

So you witness this moment of frustration that bubbled up. Something the man couldn’t repress anymore. The source of his anger isn’t there but he’s having this one-sided conversation to make himself feel better. To feel justified and powerful. Having watched the movie, you could imagine this man easily becoming one of Mamiya’s victims. He clearly has these angry thoughts. But never acts on them. Instead, he vents to himself. 

Takabe, in contrast, is completely calm. The juxtaposition makes the other man look crazy and Takabe seem sane. But we come to find out that Takabe isn’t sane. He’s just as angry and frustrated as the other guy. He has just repressed it better. Which is probably true for most people. Even the happiest person probably has something or someone who aggravates them. Which ties back to Kurosawa’s whole thesis that it’s not always that killers pretend to be good people but that a good person has the potential to snap and become a killer. 

When Takabe returns to the dry cleaners near the end of the film, it’s right after he drops Fumie off at the mental ward. We know him better at that point. So when the proprietor says “I’m sorry, I don’t have the tag. I wonder where it went,” we know how angry this must make him. Especially when the guy essentially puts the blame on Takabe. We cut from the cleaners to the restaurant where Takabe doesn’t touch his plate of food, too consumed by his emotions to actually eat.

Note that the man who had muttered under his breath said “I do things my way.” That touches on the ideas of individualism we talked about. The collective is mad at him for doing things his way. It also foreshadows Takabe’s whole struggle with being a good citizen, one of the collective, versus being true to his own wants, needs, and desires.