Arts, Faculty of
Asian Studies, Department of
DSpace
UBCV
Kuzyk, Anika Dawn
Master of Arts - MA
University of British Columbia
For decades, Carol J. Cloverâs Final Girl theory in Men, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film has been repeatedly highlighted in discourse surrounding classic American slasher films' female heroines and victim-survivors. As of late, contemporary Final Girl literature has transitioned to criticizing the limiting nature of the original theory, such as its association with âWesternâ ideals of middle-class whiteness, heterosexuality, and ability. However, many scholars have taken the Final Girl and applied the theory beyond the image of a fair-skinned, conventionally attractive, and unusually physically capable teenager by finding altered renditions of Final Girl(s) within global horror cinema. This thesis analyses the undiscussed representation of the Final Girl and the gendered representations in Japanese horror cinema. Through an analysis of Director Sono Sionâs Netflix original thriller, The Forest of Love (2019), this thesis locates the differences between this new Japanese Final Girl and Cloverâs classic Final Girl, as well as the differences between this new Japanese Final Girl and those identified in scholarship post-Clover, to illuminate issues specific to Japanese gender systems and representational strategies in Japanese horror films. This analysis also reflects on the similarities between Cloverâs Final Girl and her potential counterpart in Japanese horror, underscoring the continuing usefulness of Cloverâs work as an analytical tool. Chapter One focuses on the definitions that make up the groundwork of this thesis, such as Cloverâs Final Girl, contemporary scholarshipâs use of the theory, and an introduction to the horror genre. Chapter Two then brings the discussion of the Final Girl to Japanese Studies by highlighting the traits of Japanese horror cinema, the J-horror genre, and Japanese analytical tools that will be used to analyse Sonoâs film. Chapter Three moves on to an analysis and discussion of The Forest of Love and determines what analysing horror films from this perspective offers to discourse on Japanese sociocultural issues, especially as the genre forces viewers to feel said issues in a visceral way.
I am the Worst Woman: The Disintegration of the Idealised Feminine and the Final Girl in The Forest of Love by Anika Dawn Kuzyk B.A., The University of Alberta, 2018 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE AND POSTDOCTORAL STUDIES (Asian Studies) THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver) April 2024 © Anika Dawn Kuzyk, 2024 ii The following individuals certify that they have read, and recommend to the Faculty of Graduate and Postdoctoral Studies for acceptance, the thesis entitled: I am the Worst Woman: The Disintegration of the Idealised Feminine and the Final Girl in The Forest of Love submitted by Anika Dawn Kuzyk in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts in Asian Studies Examining Committee: Sharalyn Orbaugh, Professor, Asian Studies, UBC Co-Supervisor Colleen Laird, Assistant Professor, Asian Studies, UBC Co-Supervisor Christina Yi, Associate Professor, Asian Studies, UBC Supervisory Committee Member iii Abstract For decades, Carol J. Cloverâs Final Girl theory in Men, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film has been repeatedly highlighted in discourse surrounding classic American slasher films' female heroines and victim-survivors. As of late, contemporary Final Girl literature has transitioned to criticizing the limiting nature of the original theory, such as its association with âWesternâ ideals of middle-class whiteness, heterosexuality, and ability. However, many scholars have taken the Final Girl and applied the theory beyond the image of a fair-skinned, conventionally attractive, and unusually physically capable teenager by finding altered renditions of Final Girl(s) within global horror cinema. This thesis analyses the undiscussed representation of the Final Girl and the gendered representations in Japanese horror cinema. Through an analysis of Director Sono Sionâs Netflix original thriller, The Forest of Love (2019), this thesis locates the differences between this new Japanese Final Girl and Cloverâs classic Final Girl, as well as the differences between this new Japanese Final Girl and those identified in scholarship post-Clover, to illuminate issues specific to Japanese gender systems and representational strategies in Japanese horror films. This analysis also reflects on the similarities between Cloverâs Final Girl and her potential counterpart in Japanese horror, underscoring the continuing usefulness of Cloverâs work as an analytical tool. Chapter One focuses on the definitions that make up the groundwork of this thesis, such as Cloverâs Final Girl, contemporary scholarshipâs use of the theory, and an introduction to the horror genre. Chapter Two then brings the discussion of the Final Girl to Japanese Studies by highlighting the traits of Japanese horror cinema, the J-horror genre, and Japanese analytical tools that will be used to analyse Sonoâs film. Chapter Three moves on to an analysis and discussion of The Forest of Love and determines what analysing horror films from this iv perspective offers to discourse on Japanese sociocultural issues, especially as the genre forces viewers to feel said issues in a visceral way. v Lay Summary The horror genre of cinema often utilises images of the female body in distress, suffering, and pain. However, what happens when the previously objectified female victim becomes a monster or a powerful and feared character? This thesis poses this question by utilizing Film Scholar Carol J. Cloverâs theory on the surviving heroine common to the American slasher subgenre of film, the Final Girl, and applying it to Japanese horror cinema. Utilising contemporary scholarship that has evolved Cloverâs original Final Girl into a globally applicable character, this thesis aims to highlight a Japanese Final Girl that exists beyond US-centric cinema as a useful point of analysis for sociocultural issues. By applying the Final Girl theory in combination with other culturally specific analytical tools, like the ShÅjo, to an analysis of Japanese director Sono Sionâs 2019 Netflix film, The Forest of Love, this thesis will answer the question of what the Final Girl looks like in Japanese horror cinema. vi Preface This thesis is original, unpublished, independent work by the author, Anika Dawn Kuzyk. vii Table of Contents Abstract ......................................................................................................................................... iii Lay Summary .................................................................................................................................v Preface ........................................................................................................................................... vi Table of Contents ........................................................................................................................ vii Acknowledgements ...................................................................................................................... ix Dedication ..................................................................................................................................... xi Chapter 1: The Final Girl .............................................................................................................1 1.1 The Japanese Horror Final Girl: New Beginnings .......................................................... 1 1.2 Cloverâs Final Girl .......................................................................................................... 3 1.3 A New Final Girl ............................................................................................................ 5 1.4 Why the Final Girl? ........................................................................................................ 7 1.4.1 Men, Women, and Chain Saws ............................................................................... 8 1.4.2 Contemporary Final Girl(s)................................................................................... 14 1.5 Horror vs. HorÄ ............................................................................................................. 19 1.6 Final Girl Applications ................................................................................................. 26 Chapter 2: Japanese Horror Cinema and its Contexts ............................................................29 2.1 Japanese Horror Origins ............................................................................................... 29 2.2 J-horror .......................................................................................................................... 32 2.3 Japanalysis: Tools and Methodology ............................................................................ 36 2.3.1 The Tools .............................................................................................................. 36 2.3.2 One Track Mind: Woman as Mother .................................................................... 37 viii 2.3.3 ShÅjo and Queer Pressures.................................................................................... 41 2.4 Masochism as Power: Gender and Pain ........................................................................ 46 2.5 Japanese Horror Illuminations ...................................................................................... 50 Chapter 3: Into the Forest ...........................................................................................................52 3.1 Come On, Introduce Yourself Properly: Director Sono Sion ....................................... 52 3.2 Thereâs No Love Here: The Forest of Love Synopsis................................................... 57 3.3 The Deep, Dark Forest: An Analysis ............................................................................ 62 3.3.1 Powerful Pleasures ................................................................................................ 64 3.3.2 Frenzied, Fatalistic, Final ...................................................................................... 68 3.4 The Sono Girl: Mitsuko ................................................................................................ 73 3.5 The Villain Always Dies, or Does (S)he? ..................................................................... 79 3.6 Conclusion .................................................................................................................... 83 Bibliography .................................................................................................................................87 Filmography .................................................................................................................................95 ix Acknowledgements I would like to start by acknowledging that without the unwavering support of my friends, colleagues, family, and community, I would not have been capable of finishing this thesis. Although this has primarily been a solo project exploring my selfish passions, the incredible, intelligent, and genuinely kind-hearted people around me have pushed me to strive to do my best every single day; in this way, this thesis has absolutely been a collaborative experience. I would like to thank my supervisor, Dr. Sharalyn Orbaugh, for finding the time for me in her already busy schedule, and though it has changed along the way, you saw the potential of my project, even when I was rejected from UBC initially. Thank you for giving me the chance to pursue my passions in academia. I would also like to thank my co-supervisor, Dr. Colleen Laird, who suggested I work on this topic after reading one of my term papers. Although that paper needed work, you encouraged me to write in unchartered territory in a challenging but gratifying way. Because of your encouragement, I found something I am truly passionate about, and for that, I am truly grateful. I would also like to thank Dr. Christina Yi for always being there for me when I needed advice and for being the no-nonsense, grounded, and practical opinion I needed in times of struggle. Thank you to Tomoko Kitayama Yen for helping me source Japanese materials and for always tolerating my asking how to find the same thing because I kept forgetting. My dear friends Ai, Alice, Atsumi, The Besties: Iman and Ying, Chien Cho, Jayleen, Jessica, Katie, Lilian, Skyler, and Yue. All who have helped me pursue this project with unfaltering drive helped me with applications, editing, and general life advice and who let me rant endlessly throughout this process. In you, I found kindred spirits whose friendship I will cherish for the rest of my life. x I will also be forever grateful to the IUC Yokohama teachers and staff, including but not limited to Åhashi Makiko-sensei, KatÅ YÅko-sensei, GotÅ Eri-sensei, and Akizawa TomotarÅ-sensei, who, even though I sometimes did not do my homework, were always there to help me strive to be better and improve my Japanese. Without them, research for this thesis would have been excruciatingly painful, and I can happily say that because of them, my Japanese skills are better than ever. Thank you to Avery, Cerise, Claire, Eboni, Nicole, Jack, Jaclyn, Janine, Jenny, Sabrina, Sonia, and Victor, my fellow IUC survivors and friends. Thank you for all the lunches together, coming to the gatherings I planned, and being the light in the dark. I would like to thank my partner Rikuya, whose constant and unconditional support has kept me afloat, even across oceans. I have never met someone so endlessly kind, caring, and grounded. Our shared love of music, horror films, and food (among others) means that even the most mundane conversations hurt my cheeks from smiling too much. The unconditional love you give me warms my heart daily, lets me be myself, and pushes me to continue working hard. I want to thank my family, who have always supported and loved me even when times were tough. They always found a way to be encouraging and help make my dreams a reality; also, to my precious fur babies, Louise and Eevee, who fill my heart with endless joy and laughter even in my worst moments. Lastly, a special thanks to my Ex; without your constant doubts about the worth of my degree and relentless discouragement, I would have had no one to prove wrong. xi Dedication For my mother, who said that when all else fails, she just ships me off to Japan and everything will work out as it should. She has yet to be wrong. 1 Chapter 1: The Final Girl I am far worse than all of you. I told you in the hospital, didnât I, Ami? I am the worst woman. â Mitsuko, The Forest of Love 1.1 The Japanese Horror Final Girl: New Beginnings My main query for this thesis is whether the Final Girl theory1 can be accurately and effectively applied to Japanese horror cinema. As will be made clear later in this chapter, a discussion of the Final Girl cannot be made without reference to American film scholar Carol J. Cloverâs pivotal book Men, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film (1992).2 In her book (hereafter referred to as Chain Saws), Clover explores the topic of gender and spectatorship in American slasher cinema of the 1970s and 80s, focusing on a few of the most influential films of the time to uncover recurring tropes such as viewer cross-gender-identification, the role of the body, the look/gaze, and the female gender as presented in horror film.3 This leads to my second query for this thesis, which addresses the current lack of research on Japanese horror film-specific Final Girl(s) or, at the very minimum, relevant research in the Japanese language on the Final Girl theory. Research that applies the Final Girl theory or trope to Japanese horror in Japanese or English scholarship has yet to be done. It appears that the reason 1 Carol Clover coined the term âFinal Girlâ in her 1992 book Men, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film. The term âFinal Girl,â applies mostly to U.S. slasher cinema, as the book focuses entirely on films within this subgenre from the 1970s and 80s. For more details on the book and the Final Girl, see sections 1.2 and 1.4. 2 Carol J. Clover, Men, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film. (Princeton University Press, 1992). 3 Clover, in later chapters of Chain Saws, discusses ârape-revengeâ films and âoccultâ films. Although the ârape-revengeâ film does have Final Girl connotations, films under the âoccultâ category do not necessarily have much to do with the Final Girl trope. Moreover, as terms of spectatorship are beyond the scope of this thesis, I will not be discussing at length Cloverâs theories on spectatorship. 2 any scholar has yet to do so is that the characteristics that have come to define Japanese horror cinema and the J-horror genre â such as the overwhelming focus on the (female) gendered body in states of menstruation, pregnancy, and childbirth as frightening and cursed4 â are quite different from the traits that comprise the Final Girl as seen in American slasher cinema. However, I will argue that it is possible to identify a new type of Final Girl in some films within Japanese horror cinema, such as in Director Sono Sionâs 2019 Netflix original film, The Forest of Love (Ainaki mori de sakebe æãªãæ£®ã§å«ã¹),5 the object of analysis in this thesis. The Forest of Love is a surrealist film with a non-linear plot line based loosely on the Kitakyūshū Serial Murder Incident (Kitakyūshū kankin satsujin jikenåä¹å·ç£ç¦æ®ºäººäºä»¶) committed between 1996 and 2002 by con artist Matsunaga Futoshi.6 Prominent themes in the film stretch from sadomasochism and trauma to the disillusionment over the price paid to produce great art. The exemplary representation of the Japanese Final Girl here will make The Forest of Love an interesting and valuable contrast to the classic Final Girl in American slasher films. The differences between this new Japanese Final Girl and Cloverâs classic Final Girl, as well as the differences between this new Japanese Final Girl and those identified in scholarship post-Clover, illuminate issues specific to Japanese gender systems and representational strategies in Japanese horror films. This analysis also reflects on the similarities between Cloverâs Final Girl and her potential counterpart in Japanese horror, underscoring the continuing usefulness of Cloverâs work as an analytical tool. This connects directly to my last goal in this thesis. I use 4 HASHISEKO Mizuhoæ©è¿«çç©, âSaiyakuâ toshite no ninshin/ shussan â dorama juon noroi no ie niokeru jendÄ ãç½åãã¨ãã¦ã®å¦å¨ ã»åºç£âãã©ããåªæ¨ åªãã®å®¶ãã«ãããã¸ã§ã³ãã¼, Eureka, Poetry and Criticism 54â11, no.794 (2022): 136â143. 5 (The Forest of Love) Ainaki mori de sakebe æãªãæ£®ã§å«ã¹, directed by SONO Sion (Netflix, 2019). 6 Prime Online Editors Clubãã©ã¤ã ãªã³ã©ã¤ã³ç·¨éé¨, Kitakyūshū kankin satsujin jiken no zenyÅ. Nana nin wa dono yÅ ni satugen sareta no ka åä¹å·ç£ç¦æ®ºäººäºä»¶ã®å ¨å®¹ã7äººã¯ã©ã®ããã«æ®ºå®³ãããã®ã, FNN Prime Online, Fuji News Network, December 15, 2017, https://www.fnn.jp/articles/-/6763. 3 Chain Saws as a base to bring the discussion of the Final Girl to Japanese studies. In doing so, I determine what analysing horror films from this perspective offers to discourse on Japanese sociocultural issues, especially as the genre forces viewers to feel said issues in a visceral way. 1.2 Cloverâs Final Girl To begin, I outline the key characteristics of Cloverâs original Final Girl. Although the following is not an exclusive or exhaustive list, I must highlight the characteristics crucial to understanding Clover's definition of the Final Girl as outlined in Chain Saws.7 The traits that the Final Girl embodies go beyond what is listed in this section and depend on multiple extenuating factors, such as the parameters of the filmâs plot, the subgenre, and the year of production. In later sections of this chapter, I go into more detail on Cloverâs Final Girl as well as iterations and developments of the Final Girl in more contemporary films. Clover defines the Final Girl as:8 â¢ A tomboy (boyish) â¢ Virginal (or sexually unavailable) â¢ The protagonist â¢ Intelligent â¢ Easily identified with by the audience â¢ Queered (semi-androgynous disposition) â¢ Having typically masculine hobbies â¢ Wields a phallic weapon â¢ Kills or survives the filmâs antagonist 7 From this point forward any reference to Chain Saws will be to the 2015 version, unless specified otherwise. Carol J. Clover, Men, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film, (Princeton University Press, 2015). 8 Clover, Chain Saws, 35â40, 44, 48, 49. 4 â¢ A âVictim Heroâ or âTortured Survivorâ9 The Final Girlâs qualities, as outlined above, pertain specifically to films produced in the United States in the 1970s and â80s in the slasher horror subgenre. Her discussion of the trope takes examples from classic slasher cinema of the time, all of which presented the Final Girl as, first and foremost, a victim who later becomes a heroic figure in the course of her trials and tribulations, battling the antagonist while watching her friends and family die. As a result, the Final Girl is the only one capable of either fending off the killer long enough to be rescued or to kill him herself.10 The Final Girl is âboyish,â a characteristic that separates her from those around her, specifically her female friends, and aligns her more clearly with the male gender and, even controversially, the killer she is evading.11 She also typically utilises phallic weaponry, just like the killer, to deliver the final blows, effectively embodying the masculine by penetrating the killer.12 Interestingly, Clover argues that men, not women, find the most commonality in the Final Girl as she is typically masculine. In this line of argument, not only is she identifiable with the male audiences that comprise a large portion of the audience demographic, but she also is desirable. This dual functionality makes her both the object of desire and the subject of easy identification. As a result, perhaps, the Final Girl has become a staple of the slasher subgenre. Although this is not all that defines a Final Girl in Cloverâs work, these are the most prominent characteristics that have entered popular culture discourse and indicate to a knowing audience that a particular character will be the filmâs Final Girl. In fact, the Final Girl has 9 This quality is not as obviously outlined as the others in Chain Saws, mentioned first not within the Final Girl section of the first chapter, but on page 43 in passing as âfemale victim-hero.â The victim status of the Final Girl is mentioned more in general reference to her suffering throughout the film and the hero quality to the extent in which she is able to stave off the filmâs antagonist. However, this is an integral trait of the Final Girl regardless. 10 Clover, Chain Saws, 35. 11 Clover, Chain Saws, 40. 12 Clover, Chain Saws, 49. 5 become a trope that has quickly become both a point of criticism regarding predictability and allows horror directors to subvert audience expectations concerning these characters and the plot lines they typically follow.13 The new Final Girl I have identified in Japanese horror films is not nearly as readily identifiable in terms of overt characteristics. Moreover, she also has qualities that go against what is typically associated with the Final Girl. This means that the Japanese Final Girl also needs an introduction. 1.3 A New Final Girl My definition of what makes a Japanese Final Girl in a Japanese context follows here in this section. This is also discussed in-depth in Chapter Three, but first, I must highlight the key aspects that make up this version of a Final Girl in a different cultural and production context. The traits I highlight here are my proposal based on observations made in The Forest of Love and Sonoâs other films, in combination with a consideration of Cloverâs theory and contemporary research on the Final Girl beyond her original presence in 1970s and â80s American slasher films. The Japanese Final Girl can be defined as: â¢ Having volition (or active free will) â¢ Manipulative and/or calculating â¢ Intelligent â¢ Overtly feminine â¢ Not virginal, but sexually active â¢ Monstrous/ antagonistic 13 Stacy Rusnak, âThe Slasher Film and the Final Girl Get Makeovers: It Follows and the Politics of Fourth Wave Feminism,â in Final Girls, Feminism and Popular Culture, ed. Katarzyna Paszkiewicz and Stacy Rusnak (Palgrave Macmillan, 2020), 115. 6 â¢ Queer â¢ Does not survive As with the Final Girl, these are not all the qualities that make a Japanese Final Girl. However, these are traits that are also common to other Japanese horror tropes (excluding the category of queer, which is far less common) and appear to be consistent among Sonoâs rendition of Final Girl and/or female protagonists. Sono is a prolific (and controversial due to ongoing allegations of sexual assault) horror director known for creating films that offer unconventional representations of classic Japanese horror cinema aesthetics and Japanese femininity. His consistent presentation of these alternative depictions and his ability to challenge viewer expectations by altering traditional tropes have given rise to a Japanese Final Girl in his films. In the following section and Chapter Two, I outline the traits of Japanese horror cinema, the J-horror genre, and the Japanese Final Girl. The differences between the Japanese Final Girl and Cloverâs Final Girl can be accounted for by the sociocultural context of Japanese horror and Sonoâs films. The Japanese Final Girl is a character trope new to Japanese horror that challenges the sociocultural norms and ideals forced upon women by Japanâs patriarchal society and represents a correlation between femininity and women/girls as something to be feared. Yet, Sono goes one step further and queers the Japanese Final Girl by depicting her with an openly queer sexuality. This subversion of classic Japanese horror cinema attributes opens new avenues of analysis that see feminine independence as a sociocultural catastrophic reckoningâthat which is a result of an oppressive patriarchal society. I discuss the relationship between Japanese society and Japanese horror at greater length in Chapters Two and Three. 7 1.4 Why the Final Girl? In recent studies, many scholars and film critics alike have challenged the foundational arguments and even the construct of the Final Girl. There are claims that in films the trope is oversaturated, overdone, and meaningless, and rather than a stimulant for feminist debate, the Final Girl has come to represent traditional modes of femininity, conservatism, and the male gaze.14 Yet, this is not where the Final Girl started nor what Clover intended in her original study. Clover herself cites what has come to be an unconditional glorification of the trope as a serious deviation from the goals of her initial identification.15 Through observing and defining the Final Girl trope, Clover challenged previous conceptions that watching horror films was a simplistic and sadistic pleasure for misogynistic men.16 Conceptualization of the Final Girl meant that horror could be viewed through a lens that allowed for a deeper analysis of the role gender plays in the U.S. slasher film and for its audience. Moreover, the Final Girlâs inherent fluidity makes the theory continually applicable and means any new edition or revision that develops over time inspires scholarship that rethinks the definitions of the Final Girl, either what she was or what she has come to be.17 In this section, I discuss each of the Final Girlâs traits and explain Cloverâs theory and usage. Moreover, I explain why the Final Girl has become a prominent figure in the horror genre and why the theory is still popular, which I follow with a few prominent criticisms of the Final Girl theory. In highlighting these common critiques, I demonstrate how other scholars (as well as myself) address the flaws in the Final Girl theory. This section also responds to the second issue 14 Katarzyna Paszkiewicz and Stacy Rusnak. Final Girls, Feminism and Popular Culture (Springer International Publishing, 2020) 2. 15 Clover, Chain Saws, x-xi. 16 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, Final Girls, 1. 17 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, Final Girls, 5. 8 highlighted above regarding the lack of Japanese scholarship on the Final Girl and Japanese horror-specific Final Girls. The following two subsections are broken up in a way that focuses first on Cloverâs original Final Girl of the 1970s and â80s and then a discussion of Final Girl contemporary research applied beyond US-centric cinema to give a broader sense of where the Final Girl theory is going. 1.4.1 Men, Women, and Chain Saws Cloverâs Chain Saws was and still is a crucial text within film and gender studies. Clover analysed a selection of U.S.-made slasher films from the 1970s and â80s, including The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (Tobe Hooper, 1974), Friday the 13th (Sean S. Cunningham, 1980), and A Nightmare on Elm Street (Charles Russell, 1987), and outlined the traits associated with the films produced in that cultural and temporal space. The characteristics of the slasher film18 are: a Killer in the form of a (male) psychopath, a murderous family, or a brutalising monster that finds their home in a Terrible Place where the Final Girl must evade and fight him after the other victims are killed.19 Chain Saws was a âradical rethinkingâ of the categories considered fundamental to Film Studies, such as the gaze, identification, and spectatorial pleasures.20 This effectively paved the way for negotiating a critical analysis of horror not just in terms of spectatorship but also concerning the representation of gender on screen. This was astounding at the time as previous critics and scholars of horror who were either female themselves or operated under feminist theory had trouble negotiating the existence of the female spectator as experiencing pleasure 18 I discuss the traits of the horror genre at large in section 1.5, but it is important to highlight the distinguishing features of the slasher subgenre as discussed by Clover in relation to the US. made films of the 1970s and â80s. 19 Clover, Chain Saws, 26â36. 20 Katarzyna Paszkiewicz and Stacy Rusnak, âRevisiting the Final Girl: Looking Backwards, Looking Forwardsâ Postmodern Culture 28, no.1 (2017). 9 when viewing horror cinema.21 For example, scholars like Linda Williams indirectly argued the improbability of female horror fans. In her 1983 essay âWhen the Woman Looks,â Williams states that horror is not a genre that women can enjoy because the gaze of the camera is male-centred, highlighting the âto-be-looked-at-nessâ of women, meaning that they were also punished for exercising that same perspective.22 These previous assumptions were challenged by Clover and later scholars who considered not only the changing landscape of the horror/slasher formulas but also the growing visibility of female fans. As such Cloverâs text called into question the validity of theories such as Williamsâ and the extent to which feminist theory at the time conceptualized gendered spectatorship and the role of the female viewer. This has led to unravelling the binaries of gender and sexuality in a way that resonates with more contemporary questions around cinema as an affective experience.23 Furthermore, the popularisation of feminist theories and texts such as Cloverâs has led to those outside of academia forming productive critiques of patriarchal media cultures and to question the widespread circulation of sexist imagery and binary, gendered value systems.24 Until her 1987 essay âHer Body, Himself: Gender in the slasher Film,â25 which subsequently became the first chapter of her book, no one had dared consider a possible cross-gender identification of the male viewer with the female protagonist/ Final Girl. 26 As the slasher film offered no conventional subject for identification (e.g. a heroic male teenager or a male survivor), the assumed, predominantly male, young audiences of the slasher films of the 1970s 21 Kelly Hurley, âMen, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film, by Clover, Carol Jâ Womenâs Studies 45, no.8 (2016): 805-808. 22 Linda Williams, âWhen the Woman Looks,â In Horror, the Film Reader, ed. Mark Jancovich (Routledge, 2001) 61â66. 23 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, âRevisiting the Final Girl.â 5. 24 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, âRevisiting the Final Girl.â 5â6. 25 Carol J. Clover, âHer Body, Himself: Gender in the Slasher Film,â Misogyny, Misandry, Misanthropy, special issue of Representations 20 (October 1987): 187â228. 26 Hurley, âMen, Women, and Chain Saws,â 807. 10 and â80s were given a choice between the antagonist of the film and the Final Girl; this was something Clover argued the audience would regularly alternate between with ease.27 Although spectatorship was an integral part of Cloverâs theory and her explanation of the effectiveness of the Final Girl, it is beyond the scope of this thesis; therefore, I bring attention back to the Final Girl trope itself. The traits Clover ascribed to the Final Girl can be seen to either indicate her personality, her physical disposition, or a combination of the two. For example, when Clover describes the Final Girl as âboyish,â this can be in terms of her physical appearanceâe.g. short hair, âmasculineâ clothing, lack of make-up, etc.âand in her personalityâshe likes mechanics, sports, rejects âgirlyâ hobbies, and speaks or acts in a manner coded as more masculine.28 This particular characteristic separates her from her female friends and aligns her more clearly with a male gender.29 This masculine personality or physical appearance ties in with many of the Final Girlâs other traits, as outlined by Clover, such as virginity, intelligence, masculine hobbies, wielding a phallic weapon, her queered nature, and, therefore, her identifiability. All these qualities contribute to the Final Girl fulfilling her protagonist role. By standing out from the rest of the characters, the Final Girl gives a knowledgeable horror audience the chance to check the Final Girl box on their horror bingo sheet, ready for their expectations to be met during the filmâs run time. The final box left, labelled âkills monster or gets saved,â is the remaining Final Girl trait to be achieved. The Final Girl, at this point, gets to use her typically phallic weaponry, just like the killer, to deliver the final blows, effectively embodying the masculine by penetrating the killer in a way Clover believes can be interpreted as sexual.30 27 Clover, Chain Saws, 43. 28 Clover, Chain Saws, 40. 29 Clover, Chain Saws, 40. 30 Clover, Chain Saws, 49. 11 The Final Girlâs virginal or unavailable status and the presentation of her as potentially androgynous and rejecting sexual advances does not mean she is devoid of sexuality or not sexually appealing. Instead, the Final Girl is just as appealing as an object of desire as she is the film's protagonist and a source of identification as a masculinised subject. Clover argues that the Final Girl is, in a way, a reflection of the adolescent male, feminine enough for the violent actions she commits to be considered appropriate31 but not so feminine that it disrupts âthe structures of male competence and sexuality.â32 This means that the male audience has free reign to objectify her as the abject, as is often the case with both the monstrous and the feminine,33 and see her as representing some aspect of their male experience.34 Clover highlights this point as to what makes conclusions about the Final Girl representing a kind of feminist evolution particularly unsavoury, as the Final Girl is a female-bodied stand-in for an otherwise male presentation.35 This means that the Final Girl is not queer in sexuality or even in physical appearance. Indeed, Media Studies scholar Janet Staiger argued that many of the Final Girls of the '70s and â80s were not only conventional in appearance but fulfilled many of the qualities typically associated with femininity.36 Rather, the Final Girl is conceptually queered in a way that potentially allows a viewer of any gender to find points of commonality in her character. Her character in the slasher film performs momentary gender-bending in a way that can only be described as queer, especially for the temporal space in which she was founded.37 31 By âappropriate,â I mean that there is an assumption that the feminine often takes the role of the masochistic or the one experiencing pain in the Sadism/Masochism binary. For the feminine, taking on masochistic pleasures is considered less disturbing and more expected. This will be discussed more in Chapter Two. 32 Clover, Chain Saws, 51. 33 Janet Staiger, âThe Slasher, the Final Girl and the Anti-Denouement.â in Style & Form in the Hollywood Slasher Film, ed. Wickham Clayton (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015) 213â228. 34 Clover, Chain Saws, 53. 35 Clover, Chain Saws, 53. 36 Staiger, âAnti-Denouement,â 215, 222. 37 For a deeper analysis and greater explanation of the terms of queerness in the contemporary Final Girl, see section 1.4.2 and Chapters Two and Three. 12 Lastly, the Final Girl is a âVictim Heroâ or âTortured Survivor,â a trait Clover remarks as having been forgotten or ignored over time in exchange for a âfemale avengerâ style Final Girl.38 A point consistently built upon in Chain Sawsâ first chapter is the Final Girl tropeâs status as, first and foremost, a victim within the slasher genre. The Final Girl's victim-heavy role has been primarily discarded in contemporary discourse for a more uplifting and marketable post-feminist hero capable of gender-bending her way through the violent escapades of whatever monster or psycho is thrown her way. Clover argues that this is controversial and is overwhelmingly damaging to the figure of the woman in horror films.39 This way of viewing the Final Girl completely ignores the trope as a cumulation of sociopolitical and cultural norms pushed upon women from a young age. The focus on the Final Girl as something to be admired also ignores the Final Girl as just one of an endless parade of victims who are dismembered, tortured, and murdered at gruesome lengths by mostly male serial killers. Not only does she have to beat the killer at the end of the film, but she also must witness the slaughter of her friends, family, and loved ones; her survivor status is riddled with an immeasurable amount of trauma.40 What Clover aimed to highlight was the Final Girlâs abject terror (her victim status)âa predominantly feminine experienceâas making her triumphant win over the antagonist (her hero transformation), a typically masculine experience and a dynamic, androgynous act.41 That said, in their critiques of the book, scholars like Janet Staiger and American Cinema scholar Richard Nowell point to the small sample size of films as insufficient for gathering data,42 but most importantly, suggested that in looking at a greater set of films, the Final Girl is 38 Clover, Chain Saws, x. 39 Clover, Chain Saws, x-xi. 40 Clover, Chain Saws, 33. 41 Clover, Chain Saws, 59â60. 42 Staiger, âAnti-Denouement,â 213â14. 13 not typically boyish or masculinised at all.43 Nowell and Film Studies scholar Jeremy Maron offer terms like âFinal Victimâ or âFinal Subjectâ to better describe the positionality of the Final Girl and remove the rigid gender binaries they see as a fault in Cloverâs original theory.44 Gender studies scholar Jack Halberstam too argues that Cloverâs theory has a âtendency to restabilise gendered positionsâ rather than articulate what he believes is the queer nature of horror films demonstrated by the genreâs ability to create and reconfigure gender categories.45 Halberstam suggests that the Final Girl is âsomething much messier than male or femaleâ and is somewhat closer to Barbara Creedâs definitions of the monstrous, minus the feminine.46 Though these are not all the critiques of Cloverâs theory, they are the dominant points in subsequent scholarship. The issue in applying Chain Saws to contemporary films in combination with contemporary theory is that the Final Girl theory itself perpetuates gender binaries and the norms of the social value systems of the patriarchy. For many, the Final Girlâs part-time queerness is far too shallow to create any significant discourse around the representation of the female within the horror film corpus. However, even if the Final Girl theory has its flaws, this does not mean it is rendered useless. Just as Clover questioned previous scholarship that discussed gender in literature and film, we as contemporary scholars utilise our current knowledge to contribute to productively advancing the theory. This is precisely what Film and Gender Studies scholars like Katarzyna Paszkiewicz and Stacy Rusnak have done with their 43 Richard Nowell, Blood Money: A History of the First Teen Slasher Film Cycle, (Bloomsbury Academic, 2011). 44 Jeremy Maron, âWhen the Final Girlis Not a Girl: Reconsidering the Gender Binary in the Slasher Film,â Offscreen 19, no.1 (2015). 45 Jack Halberstam, Skin Shows: Gothic Horror and the Technology of Monsters (Duke University Press, 1995), 139. 46 Halberstam, Skin Shows, 143. 14 2020 book Final Girls, Feminism, and Popular Culture, which is discussed in the following section. 47 1.4.2 Contemporary Final Girl(s) The Final Girl theory continues to be fruitfully utilised in analysing film genres, gender, sexuality, cultures and societies of production, and other intersectional elements that have turned it into a globally applicable theory rich in analytical potential. Moreover, the Final Girl is particularly effective when used in combination with queer theory and post-feminism to demonstrate the tropeâs ability to communicate sociocultural and political themes in contemporary horror films. Highlighting current representations of the Final Girl in contemporary horror media is an overwhelming task, as many iterations of the trope have developed across global media since the publication of Cloverâs monograph. The Final Girl can be found in everything from its origins in slasher cinema to contemporary gore-fest âtorture-pornâ films and comedic parodies, and even within genres not considered close to horror, like general teen fiction. All these genres now have their own Final Girl, some adhering to the original model and some choosing to rewrite her traits to suit the subgenre of the content. Media scholars like those within Paszkiewicz and Rusnakâs book on contemporary Final Girls have been observing the changes occurring to and around the Final Girl (and the horror genre) in cinema and media.48 Regardless of how closely the changes adhere to the original formula, contemporary scholarship still highlights horror as an ideal space 47 Katarzyna Paszkiewicz and Stacy Rusnak, Final Girls, Feminism and Popular Culture. (Springer International Publishing, 2020). 48 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, Final Girls, 1-10. 15 to explore gender issues in specific sociocultural contexts. The Final Girl is the leading facilitator of such productivity.49 As discussed at length in the introduction of Paszkiewicz and Rusnakâs book, the changes to the trope represent both media and the Final Girl as responding to the sociopolitical and cultural backdrop of their time. Even when contemporary instances of the Final Girl carry few or none of the original nuances, she can still inform us of how media interacts with shifting modalities concerning gender, race, sexuality, and ability.50 The Final Girl theory has proven to be malleable, extending beyond horror films and the classic American slasher.51 Indeed, the Final Girl trope's specific cultural and sociopolitical implications in contemporary media need closer examination, considering âthe real-life sex/gender transformations in the intervening decadesâ52 and âthe complex shifts within feminism itself."53 This includes instances of the Final Girl of North American media, specifically Hollywood and US-centric cinema, which often highlight the Final Girl by her ability, Whiteness, and heterosexuality.54 The horror genre in and of itself is an excellent location for reconfiguring what we understand about gender, not just through inversion but by creating entirely new categories.55 However, âprogress" should not become the primary mode of distinction between contemporary and past media. The conclusion is not that contemporary film âcorrectsâ the mistakes of the past as the same issues âoften reappear in another guise,â 56 meaning that the contemporary Final Girl is not a corrected version of the old; she has not been altered in a way that is representative of 49 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, Final Girls, 1. 50 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, Final Girls, 3. 51 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, Final Girls, 4. 52 Clover, Chainsaws, x-xii. 53 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, Final Girls, 10-11. 54 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, Final Girls, 6. 55 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, Final Girls, 19. 56 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, Final Girls, 11. 16 fourth-wave feminism.57 As media still bears all the flaws of our society, alterations made to the Final Girl to fit into contemporary media/culture are not necessarily beneficial to engendering inclusion, diversity, or feminism. Instead, we can look at how the Final Girl formula has been changed to fit contemporary society and draw conclusions through analysis based on the sociocultural and political climate in which that media has been produced to suggest what the Final Girl has come to represent. This is not to say that directors, production companies, and producers are inclined to produce films and media content that is âprogressiveâ or âinclusive,â although many are, especially if it creates a larger revenue and caters to a wider audience. This leads to the question of what the Final Girl looks like in cinema beyond the American slasher film. For example, Lucia Mulherin Palmerâs article âThe Final Girl at the US-Mexico Border: The Politics of Saving and Surviving in Undocumented (2010)â 58 explores the Final Girlâs intersection between race and gender and highlights the limitations of Clover's original theory in ignoring this reality. More specifically, Palmer argues how the still white, American, and heterosexual Final Girl in the film Undocumented serves as a comparison to the original Final Girl and as the contrast to the Mexican (marginalised POC) women of the film who remain silent victims.59 The emergence of the Final Girl in this film under these circumstances âspeaks to how her White, Western feminist manifestation is the invisible norm of female empowerment in horror cinema.â60 Therefore, the protagonist in this film embodies the 57 âFourth-Wave Feminismâ is what Andrea Waling states holds the main goal of highlighting the general plight and oppression of the feminine. Fourth-Wave builds off the previous three waves but is characterised by a move towards using digital technologies/online presence and a heightened focus on reproductive justice, intersectionality, transgender and gender-diverse issues, sex work advocacy, and male-feminism, among other elements. Andrea Waling, âMen and Fourth-Wave Feminism: Acceptance, Ambivalence, Resistance,â New Community 14, no. 3: 55 (2016): 34â37. 58 Lucia Mulherin Palmer, "The Final Girlat the US-Mexico Border: The Politics of Saving and Surviving in Undocumented (2010),â Postmodern Culture 28, no. 1 (2017). 59 Palmer, âSurviving in Undocumented,â 3. 60 Palmer, âSurviving in Undocumented,â 8. 17 Final Girl's most classic yet controversial traits and contributes to the discussion around why the Final Girl is portrayed as such a stereotype. Furthermore, Gunnar Iversen discusses multiple Nordic horror films, their qualities, and their Final Girls at length in his essay âBetween Art and Genre: New Nordic Horror Cinema.â61 He argues how the Nordic Final Girl can be interpreted as the opposite of that in the American slasher origin. Iversen notes that it is instead the mature, feminine, independent, and sexually liberated woman who becomes the Final Girl as opposed to the standard young, boyish, and virginal/sexually repressed girl.62 Nordic Final Girls do not survive by âbecoming virtually masculine or being pure and virginalâ; instead, they utilise their experience and maturity to outsmart the killer and survive the younger and more immature characters in the films.63 In both articles, the changing characterisation of the Final Girl as a racialised, globalised, liberated, and mature trope that illuminates a subversion that points to structural changes within societal value systems. Cloverâs original Final Girl embodies one more trait that I believe is important to mention: the queer nature of the trope. âQueerâ can be defined as a representation of non-normative expressions of gender and sexuality, which includes homosexual, bisexual, transsexual, or transgendered identities, as well as anything that is not marked by these categories and all non-normative intersections of identity unrelated to gender. 64 Rather than illustrating queerness in direct opposition to straightness, queerness can be considered in opposition to normativity.65 This allows queerness to include those marginalised by aspects of 61 Gunnar Iversen, âBetween Art and Genre: New Nordic Horror Cinema,â in A Companion to Nordic Cinema, ed. Mette Hjort and Ursula Lindqvist, (John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 2016), 332â350. 62 Iversen, âBetween Art and Genre,â 338. 63 Iversen, âBetween Art and Genre,â 338. 64 Alexander Doty, âThereâs Something Queer Here,â in Out in Culture: Gay, Lesbian, and Queer Essays on Popular Culture, ed. Corey L. Creekmur and Alexander Doty, (Duke University Press, 1995), 71â90. 65 Cathy J. Cohen, âPunks, Bulldaggers, and Welfare Queens: The Radical Potential of Queer Politics?â in Sexual Identities, Queer Politics, ed. Mark Blasius (Princeton University Press, 2001), 200â228. 18 their identity other than sexuality or gender, such as race, class, and ability.66 This working definition of âqueerâ becomes anything and everything that is in opposition (directly or indirectly) to what is considered socially, culturally, or politically normative. The Final Girl is in direct opposition to the other victims of the American slasher; her ânon-traditionalâ (used loosely) traits like androgyny, intelligence, sexual apprehension, and physical strength place her in the realm of the queer. The Final Girl becomes the abject, othered, like the filmâs antagonist. However, the Final Girl was/is still a largely middle-class, White, and easily identifiable character for the presumed male audience, shifting her back into somewhat normative territory. This manoeuvring between existing sociocultural dichotomies within the horror genre leads to a wide variety of gender confusion. The Final Girl is âboyish,â and the killer is âfeminised,â67 in opposition to the standardly gendered bodies of the other victims.68 This leads to the interpretation that the Final Girl is somehow distanced from normative gender constructions that would otherwise sentence her to certain death, just as it did for the other victims.69 This correlation between the Final Girl and the killer as queer-coded characters connects queerness as something to be feared with violent potential that threatens sociocultural ideals of (and, therefore, the value systems related to) normativity. This deep connection of gender identity in horror with the Final Girl/Killer survival/death dichotomy has changed the way themes and motifs are presented and how contemporary audiences interpret the underlying 66 Peter Marra, âThe Final Girl(s): Queerness, Normativity and Survival in Scream Queens,â in Final Girls, Feminism and Popular Culture, ed. Katarzyna Paszkiewicz and Stacy Rusnak, (Palgrave Macmillan, 2020), 63â 76. 67 According to Clover, the masculinisation of the Final Girl and the feminization of the killer/monster is integral to the slasher film dichotomy. This âfeminisationâ of the killer is explained by Clover as occurring due to his nature as needing to wield a phallic weapon to make up for what he lacks (in this case, Clover argues that it is âtrueâ maleness and being unable to perform sexually or in ways traditionally ascribed to men), as well as the tendency for slasher killers to have family issues, mother issues, and so on. He is also feminised in the process of being pursued by the Final Girl in the last moments, as she is then the one who penetrates him. Clover, Chain Saws, 40-43. 68 Clover, Chain Saws, 40-43. 69 Marra, âScream Queens,â 67. 19 messages in a contemporary space. Analysing the Final Girl as a rebel against and critique of normativity also opens avenues for discussing horror more broadly as having the ability to posit such questions with regards to the audience, society, and culture these films seek to target.70 Considering the above-highlighted fruitful utilisations of the Final Girl theory that go far beyond Cloverâs original, why has there yet to be a discussion of the theory in Japanese or Japanese horror? I propose that the reason is connected to culturally specific tropes in Japanese cinema and how Japanese horror is studied. As will become apparent in Chapter Two in my discussion of Japanese horror and the J-horror genre which rely heavily on cultural tropes that have a clear point of analysis and a reliable and distinguishable form. 1.5 Horror vs. HorÄ Horror films touch upon fears that run âdeeperâ than most socio-historical analyses can excavate and provide a barometer for emerging cultural climates. â Jay McRoy, Nightmare Japan: Contemporary Japanese Horror Cinema71 To fully understand the Final Girl and her trope, we must also know what traits define the horror genre beginning with the time of Cloverâs analysis. Horror is an influential and prolific genre whose origins remain shrouded in somewhat contradicting claims. Film scholar Murray Leeder argues throughout his book Horror Film: A Critical Introduction, that the horror genre as we know it today was not yet widely used terminology in early cinema, if it was used at all. He suggests this is why some believe that horror films began in 1914 with The Avenging Conscience (D. W. Griffith), while some argue that Edison Studioâs adaptation of Frankenstein (1910) was 70 Marra, âScream Queens,â 68. 71 Jay McRoy, Nightmare Japan: Contemporary Japanese Horror Cinema (Brill Academic Publishers, 2008). 20 the first horror film.72 American film critic Roger Ebert argued the German expressionist film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (Robert Wiene, 1920) was the first true horror film because it created an unrecognisable world, producing a psychological landscape that the audience had to navigate in which âunspeakable horror [became] possible.â73 Horror became a staple genre in the American film industry beginning in 1931.74 Marked by the worst years of the Great Depression, the desire for horror films that represented the feelings of despair was high. This is when we begin to see the popular subgenres of horror reflecting the current sociocultural and political situation, affecting which films and their contents become popular in any given decade. For example, horror films mainly found an audience after the Second World War when film and their audiences were forced to regularly confront the horrific reality they witnessed during the war, which was far worse than any horror film could conjure up during it.75 As people became sensitised to the horrors humanity is capable of and the potential for those horrors to exist in their daily lives, they sought catharsis to remedy those fears. This was when the monster movie gained its initial popularity; for the mummies, Frankenstein, Dracula, and the wolfmen on screen (as well as Godzilla, though Leeder does not mention him) existed an audience in need of a desperate escape from the tragedy that was their daily lives. Horror films became valued less for their fake scares and more for their pure entertainment value.76 In the 1970s and â80s, the American slasher was at its height in popularity. Kara Kvaran argues that this was because they provided an escape for teenage audiencesâthe youth left behind by the bleak economic reality they faced as they neared adulthood, in which 72 Leeder, Horror Film, 3. 73 Leeder, Horror Film, 11. 74 Leeder, Horror Film, 22. 75 Leeder, Horror Film, 31. 76 Leeder, Horror Film, 32-3. 21 their positionality was understood in grave (but realistic) terms.77 The horror films of the 1990s and 2000s saw an increase in serial killer films like The Silence of the Lambs (Jonathan Demme, 1991), followed by the gore-heavy, violent revival of the slasher with the Final Destination (Steven Quale, James Wong, David R. Ellis, 2000-11) and Scream (Wes Craven, Tyler Gillett, Matt Bettinelli-Olpin, 1996-2023) franchises.78 The slasher subgenre remains popular in contemporary films with slight changes: contemporary slasher films are considered to be more self-aware and internally reflective, as references to big blockbusters and remakes are quite common. At the same time, J-horror reception increased with global audiences since its initial introduction overseas in the â90s, beginning with Ringu (Nakata Hideo, 1998).79 This sudden popularity can be attributed to multiple elements but, most importantly, appears to originate in J-horrorâs ability to utilise distinct but recognizable elements compared to North American horror while encompassing culturally specific concepts from Japan, the combination of which seems to create an original viewing experience.80 The popularity of J-horror and its themes is discussed in Chapter Two. Horror can be understood as a genre of the body.81 Therefore, like melodramas or pornography, horror is often overlooked when discussing film or literature, as these genres are seen as grotesque expressions of the human body and excessive emotions.82 Even when undervalued, the horror genre finds significance in its ability to create and emphasise a frightening display of the fears that lurk, sometimes unnoticed, deeply within our societies and 77Kara M. Kvaran, ââYouâre all Doomed!â A Socioeconomic Analysis of Slasher Films.â Journal of American Studies 50, no. 4, (2016): 953-970. 78 Leeder, Horror Film, 71-4. 79 Leeder, Horror Film, 78. 80 Leeder, Horror Film, 78. 81 Linda Williams, "Film Bodies: Gender, Genre, and Excess," Film Quarterly 44, no. 4 (1991): 2â13. 82 Williams, âFilm Bodies,â 3. 22 cultures.83 Horror can point to political themes and highlight the issues we face daily in a manner that, for some, is easier to digest in the realm of fantastical renderings of violence. According to authors such as Hirayama Yumeaki, we can think of these films as the âsurvival handbookâ for worst-case scenarios in our present-day world.84 If horror films are violent exaggerations of current events (e.g., societal fears, phobias, disasters), then they can be viewed as presenting ways of surviving the impossible, or showing what to avoid in a worst-case-scenario situation.85 Some may think that addressing theseâor more substantialâproblems directly in a realistic setting where they resonate with our daily lives would be easier than subjecting oneself to watching something whose sole purpose is to unnerve, terrify, and disgust the viewer. However, the reality for most is that cinema and its messaging and themes make these same problems easier to comprehend and address internally, if not indirectly. Although the way issues present themselves in reality or are presented in typical media representations is far less violent than the images central to horror, the realisation of the dissonance between how an issue presents or is presented to the outside world and the true feelings and ramifications that are revealed in horror films forces the viewer to recognize truths that may be hard to see otherwise. As we might expect, cinema, like every other medium, becomes complicit in reinforcing the idea that identity is directly related to gender and, therefore, resists change. This resistance to change is adequately demonstrated through the observation that identical depictions of the themes and motifs in both US-centric and Japanese horror continue through time. The relationship between the (gendered) body and the horror genre is a continual depiction that can be found regardless of how it is represented. The image of the âtransforming body,â in particular, 83 Hirayama Yumeaki å¹³å±±å¤¢æ. KyÅfu no kÅzÅ ææã®æ§é (Gentosha, 2018), 40. 84 Hirayama, KyÅfu no kÅzÅ, 67. 85 Hirayama, KyÅfu no kÅzÅ, 67. 23 has become central to what makes horror so terrifying.86 The most common representation of this in horror is a metamorphosis through gore, whether that be the graphic opening, dismemberment, or other violent changes like self-harm or âmonsterificationâ through growths and strange appendages. This violence against the human body âattacks the foundations of the symbolic order which signifies law, rationality, logic, truth.â87 In horror, the body, a treasured and integral part of our identity, society, and worldly understanding, is effectively reduced to nothing more than an object, something to be abused, dissected and discarded in âextreme expression[s] of patriarchal âforceâ.â88 This body is also often a female one; violence against women in film is often interpreted as a âmisogynist âappeal to desiresâ, within a transforming social landscape, âto contain women socially, economically, and sexuallyâ.â89 Moreover, according to Jay McRoy in Nightmare Japan: Contemporary Japanese Horror Cinema, the films that focus on this brand of dismantling can be seen as âa demonstration of âsexual politicsâ and âmale dominationââ and something that âfunctions to maintain the power of the patriarchal order.â 90 Using the depiction of the feminine as an object to be disposed of or the antagonistâs victims is a familiar theme in horror films. Even though the killer or monster can also be female, this is far less common in US horror, and specifically slasher, films. For example, the female monster in the American slasher is often placed as a catalyst for the male killerâs actions or painted firstly as a man to fool the audience into thinking the film follows standard Cloverian tropes.91 This overwhelming contemporary obsession with making the audience 86 Barbara Creed, âHorror and the Carnivalesque: The Body Monstrousâ in Fields of Vision: Essays in Film Studies, Visual Anthropology, and Photography. Ed. Leslie Devereaux, (University of California Press, 1995), 127 - 159. 87 Creed, âHorror and the Carnivalesque,â 137. 88 Jane Caputi, âAdvertising Femicide: Lethal Violence against Women in Pornography and Gorenography,â in Femicide: The Politics of Killing Women. Ed. Radford, J. and Russell, D. E. H. (Twayne Publishers, 1992), 203 -17. 89 McRoy, Nightmare Japan, 29. 90 McRoy, Nightmare Japan, 30. 91 Maron, âWhen the Final Girl is Not a Girl.â 24 believe that the killer is a male, as he has always been, to produce a twist ending with the killer revealed as a female92 seems to play into horrorâs tendency to subvert audience expectations. The horror genreâs naturally self-aware nature comes full circle by creating new predictable motifs and tropes like the male-to-female killer theme. By contrast, in Japanese horror the female is often placed in the role of the antagonist with female-on-female violence; however, this is done from the beginning of the film, making it clear to the audience that the main aggressor is a woman. This can be painted as representing Japanâs culturally specific apprehensions about the threat women pose when entering the workforce, as well as the subsequent alteration to the womanâs role in the domestic realm.93 That said, regardless of the subtle differences between US and Japanese horror films, the burden still falls on women to bear the brunt of film violence. Female characters provide entertainment for presumed male audiences of the horror genre in the form of hyper-sexualization, infantilisation, and femicide while still facilitating a point of identification (i.e. via the Final Girl). Horror cinema consistently focuses on appeasing the male gaze, even when themes of female rebellion and rejection of societal norms are front and centre in the film, as will be apparent in the analysis of Sonoâs Forest of Love in Chapter Three. By comparison, as discussed previously the killer in the U.S. slasher film is usually male and is a seemingly indestructible monster against whom the Final Girl must fight and either destroy or escape from.94 This gender dynamic that slasher films often construct between the 92 USA and global horror cinema examples of this phenomenon include: Happy Death Day (Christopher Landon, 2017), Urban Legend (Jamie Blanks, 1998), Scream (Wes Craven, 1996), High Tension (Alexandre Aja, 2003), Friday the 13th (Sean S. Cunningham, 1980) etc. 93 McRoy, Nightmare Japan, 33. 94 V. Hernández-Santaolalla and I. Raya, âMale Monsters Still Stalk, Yet More Violent: A Comparative Analysis of Original Slasher Films and Their Remakes,â Sexuality & Culture 26 (2022): 1167â1189. 25 male killer and (his) female victims (specifically Final Girl(s)) is not restricted to a "pre-established gender differentiation.â 95 Yet, it is essential to note that traditionally, if the killer is male, his victims are usually women. The slasher film was initially understood as a âcautionary taleâ designed to warn young peopleâthat is, young womenâabout the risk of âviolating the moral orderâ with specific regard to sexual activity.96 This meant that the slasher acted in perpetuating systems that equated idealised femininity with purity (virginity or chastity), and all deviations were punishable.97 The Final Girl plays an integral role in propagating this kind of sociocultural morality messaging as her virtue and masculine behaviour are rewarded with survival. Rather than being the harbinger of patriarchyâs downfall, as some like to believe she is capable of, the Final Girl can only emerge victorious by obtaining a role traditionally ascribed to men and upholding socially acceptable (Judeo-Christian) morals.98 Although cinema can perform vast critiques of societal attitudes vis-Ã -vis the relationship between gender and power, cinema often reinforces existing social value systems.99 Horror films and the image of the Final Girl reinforce the idea of gender as determining the range of choices available in forming oneâs identity.100 Although succumbing to the demands of the capitalist entertainment system is unproductive in facilitating sociocultural revolution, this consistency can point to (even if minimally) a rebellion against the system when changes to typical genre and trope traits are observed in combination with the contemporary attempt of challenging stagnated value systems. 95 Hernández-Santaolalla and Raya, âMale Monsters,â 1169. 96 Hernández-Santaolalla and Raya, âMale Monsters,â 1169. 97 Hernández-Santaolalla and Raya, âMale Monsters,â 1169. 98 Hernández-Santaolalla and Raya, âMale Monsters,â 1170. 99 Timothy Iles, âProblems of Communication, Identity, and Gendered Social Construction in Contemporary Japanese Cinema: The Look and the Voice,â In The Crisis of Identity in Contemporary Japanese Film: Personal, Cultural, National, (Brill, 2008) 53-78. 100 Iles, âProblems of Communication,â 53. 26 1.6 Final Girl Applications In this chapter, I have provided the main arguments regarding the Final Girl and the research from which they came. The goal in highlighting this information was to provide adequate background to build upon to provide evidence for the existence of a Japanese version of the Final Girl (the Japanese Final Girl). This research will help pinpoint the similarities, differences, and reasons why Japanese horror cinema can include this trope in its repertoire and how an analysis of the Japanese Final Girl can lead to fruitful discourse on how Japanese horror can illuminate sociocultural issues of concern in particular historical moments. This can expand the Final Girl theory and Japanese horror cinema research discourse beyond limiting âculturally significantâ motifs and tropes. Chapter Two begins with an introduction to Japanese horror cinema, the subgenre of J-horror, and how it fits within and is distinct from the context of US-centric and international horror. The discussion then moves to an overview of the gender systems and normative assumptions about gender roles in modern Japan, for which I draw on the work of both Japanese and English-language scholars. I then introduce Japan-specific concepts and analytical tools that support my analysis of Sono Sionâs film and conclude with my argument that an examination of the Japanese Final Girl can contribute in general to critical examinations of the Final Girl trope and contribute to critical discussions of Japanese horror cinema. Chapter Three focuses on an analysis of The Forest of Love, in which I refer to the tools introduced in Chapter Two to illuminate what I believe this film contributes to the questions posed in Chapter One. To conclude prematurely, the Final Girl is not only a malleable trope but has evolved with contemporary media to correspond to characters and genres far beyond the limits of the U.S. 27 slasher subgenre. Due to the broadening applicability of the Final Girl, I argue that the theory can be constructively applied to Japanese horror cinema and Japanese sociocultural analysis. As mentioned earlier in this chapter, my motivation for pursuing this topic is to connect the Final Girl trope to Japanese horror films. Even though Japanese horror cinema research frequently addresses gender-specific sociopolitical issues, much of the current research has left out Final Girl theory as something that can be fruitfully applied to Japanese horror films. Until recently, much of the sociocultural analysis done on Japanese horror cinema remains in the past, in the form of continued focus on either outdated motifs and tropes or their representations. To move forward, this thesis works to destigmatise the classification of Japanese horror cinema, suggesting the removal of previous restrictions that unnecessarily limit both the breadth of films deemed a part of this category and, therefore, the sociocultural analysis of Japanese horror films. In broadening the scope, contemporary films, themes, and motifs new to the genre, like the Final Girl, can be included. Moreover, connecting the Final Girl trope to the constitutive elements of Japanese horror allows for a new avenue of scholarship that focuses on contemporary renderings of the feminine in Japanese horror films. In summary, in the thesis I identify the Final Girl trope within Japanese horror and argue that her presence represents cultural and gendered anxieties and signals the more significant sociopolitical, economic, and cultural issues that persist in contemporary Japanese society. Although the trope presents itself differently in Japanese films from the original model, this is only to be expected. Research done in global horror cinema and genres outside of horror points to instances of the Final Girl that deviate from and go beyond that of the U.S. slasher film, but remain recognizably belonging to the Final Girl trope. These variations do not necessarily mean that the characters are not Final Girls but that the Final Girl is malleable, changing with, rather 28 than against, the sociocultural differences that affect their representations. These transformations suggest that not only are the differences worth investigating but that a study of the Japanese Final Girl will lead to a more extensive discussion of how horror cinema represents fears in a way that allows the audience to question not only societyâs ideals but also their own. Most importantly, rather than treating the theory as a definitive source of analysis, I will use it as an aid in uncovering how Cloverâs Final Girl, in combination with classic Japanese horror cinema motifs and themes, are queering the idealised conceptions of Japanese femininity and challenging what we know to be true about contemporary feminine representation in Japanese horror films. In determining the effectiveness, status, and relation to Japanese sociocultural and political affairs of the Final Girl within Japanese horror cinema, I reveal her as something to fear, an antagonistic Japanese Final Girl, rather than as a post-feminist heroic icon. 29 Chapter 2: Japanese Horror Cinema and its Contexts Chapter One provided an explanation of Cloverâs Final Girl theory and the American slasher horror genre in order to form the theoretical foundation on which this thesis is formed. This explanation also gave insight into how I utilise scholarship produced outside of Japan to apply it to Japanese horror cinema, as there is currently a lack of relevant research on the Final Girl in Japanese or English. The following sections of this chapter are designed to provide further background information and argument, but this time on Japanese horror cinema and the contemporaneous Japanese sociocultural climate. I will also pinpoint key terms and analytical tools used in discourse on Japanese literature and media to which then form the basis for my analysis in Chapter Three of Sonoâs The Forest of Love. 2.1 Japanese Horror Origins The history of horror genre films in Japan, like that of other national cinemas I discussed in Chapter One, can be said to have begun with cinema itself; however, the most noticeable start (and the one most often identified by scholars) was around the end of the Second World War and the beginning of the Allied Occupation.101 The studio system in Japan, which dominates the production and release of cinema to this day, was largely influenced by Hollywood, and the tension between the introduction of âWesternâ systems and ideologies and traditional Japanese ones is viewed by Japanese film scholars such as Colette Balmain as the root of themes common to 1950âs Japanese horror films.102 Other themes and motifs, including common storylines like the shinrei-mono eiga (ghost films) and the shinrei-jitsuwa (true ghost stories), can be connected 101 Colette Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film, (Edinburgh University Press, 2008). 102 Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film, 12. 30 back to Japanese folklore and NÅ and Kabuki Theater.103 Japanese horror films often feature tropes and themes that are common to those earlier theatrical forms, such as the âdevil woman,â long black hair, ghosts, transformational mutilation, etc.104 Balmain continues that traditional art forms like Kabuki and NÅ theatre provided much of the material for early Japanese films, with some of the first studios, like ShÅchiku, founded in 1920, originally being traditional playhouses.105 ShÅchiku, with prominent cinema figures like Ozu Yasujiro and Kurosawa Akira under their wing, saw the start of the shingeki movement in which cinema and theatre became more influenced by Europe and the West.106 Companies like ShÅchiku and Nikkatsu (known as the Big Two at the time) continued to prosper and advance cinema culture until the Great KantÅ Earthquake of 1923, which halted production, leading to an influx of imported films.107 In 1936, TÅhÅ was founded, changing the way cinema was marketed, moving from a star-based system that promoted actors and actresses to one that highlighted the prominence of the producer.108 Thus, although some films in Japan could be considered horror before the 1950s, the boundaries of the genre remained elusive due to the overwhelming popularity of genres like jidaigeki (the period drama), among other factors.109 It was not until after the Occupation that Japan began producing horror films in earnest and saw the popularity of kaijū eiga (monster film) and shinrei-mono eiga rise as Occupation censorship made the production of genres like jidaigeki difficult.110 The most influential, which also marked the beginning of the kaijū eiga 103 Jay McRoy, Japanese Horror Cinema, (Edinburgh University Press, 2005). 104 McRoy, Japanese Horror Cinema, 22â4. 105 Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film,13. 106 Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film,13. 107 Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film,13. 108 Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film,13. 109 Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film, 25. 110 The Occupation banned anything that could be seen as nationalistic and that promoted the feudalistic system in favour of more âdemocratic content.â Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film, 21. 31 boom, was the TÅhÅ-produced Godzilla (Gojira ã´ã¸ã© Honda IshirÅ, 1954).111 The reason horror began to emerge as a popular genre in Japan in this period is similar to the reasons discussed in Chapter One. At times of political or economic distress, horror films allow their audiences to feel catharsis in relation to their equally traumatic and very real situation.112 Specifically, films like Godzilla and the equally popular Tales of Ugetsu (Ugetsu monogatari é¨æç©èªMizoguchi Kenji, 1953)âa film that includes ghostly and eerily fantastic elements, while not being strictly horrorââprovided one of the most suitable mechanisms through which to articulate anxieties and concerns over the changing nature of Japanese society at a time of unprecedented upheaval.â113 As is the case globally, the prominence of specific subgenres of horror films in Japan correlates to the contemporary issues of the time. The image of the absentee salaryman father in 1970s and â80s horror films like The Discarnates (Ijin tachi to no natsu ç°äººãã¡ã¨ã®å¤ Obayashi Nobuhiko, 1988) rose with the economic boom in Japan that led to rampant overwork.114 The anxieties about the introduction of technology in the 1990s is highlighted in themes of technology-based viruses and ghosts such as those seen in Pulse (Kairo åè·¯Kurosawa Kiyoshi, 2001). The subsequent economic crash then led to a rise in images of domestic abuse (which saw an increase after the bursting of the economic bubble) like those shown as the catalyst for ghostly events in Ju-On (åªæ¨ Shimizu Takashi, 2003).115 The bad or 111 Inuhiko Yomota, What is Japanese Cinema? A History (Columbia University Press, 2019), 117. 112 Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film, 31. 113 Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film, 31. 114 Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film, 7. 115 Balmain, Introduction to Japanese Horror Film, 7. 32 absent mother and child neglect was showcased in Nakata Hideoâs Dark Water (Hono gurai mizu no soko karaä»æãæ°´ã®åºãã 2002) and Ringu (ãªã³ã° 1998), between the 1990s and late 2000s. All of this came to a head in the form of the most popular subgenre that emerged in this time, the J-horror genre. 2.2 J-horror The term âJ-horrorâ in Japanese and English language scholarship refers only to Japanese horror film production from the 1990s to the late 2000s. Two of the eraâs most exemplary films, Ringu and Ju-On, remain the most famous to this day.116 However, those unfamiliar with the nuances of the terminology of âJ-horrorâ versus âJapanese horrorâ (japaniizu hora) might be inclined to think the two are monikers for one another, but this is not the case. The term J-horror is actually used to refer to a small set of films, while âJapanese horrorâ refers to the broader category of horrific films made in the Japanese language by the Japanese film industry.117 One may also come across the term âJ-horror Theatreâ (J-horror shiata-), referring to an anthology of six horror films created by the genreâs most accomplished directors between 2006 and 2010.118 This collaboration project was a direct result of the overwhelming success of Nakataâs Ringu and includes titles like Retribution (Sakebi å« Kurosawa Kiyoshi, 2006), Infection (Kansen ææOchiai Masayuki, 2004), and Reincarnation (Rinâne 輪廻 Shimizu Takashi, 2005). As is 116 MIYAMOTO Noriakiå®®æ¬æ³æ, âKurosawa Kiyoshi âsakebiâ to jhorÄ no rekishiâ é»æ²¢æ¸ ãå«ãã¨ Jãã©ã¼ã®æ­´å², ningen / kankyÅgaku äººéã»ç°å¢å­¦ 28 (2019): 93-104. 117 Chika Kinoshita, âThe Mummy Complex: Kurosawa Kiyoshiâs Loft and J-horror,â in Horror to the Extreme: Changing Boundaries in Asian Cinema, ed. Jinhee Choi and Mitsuyo Wada-Marciano (Hong Kong University Press, 2009), 103â122. 118 Kinoshita, âThe Mummy Complex,â 105. 33 specified by Japanese film scholar Chika Kinoshita, J-horror finds its definitions in its aesthetics, those which concentrate on the âlow-key production of atmospheric and psychological fear, rather than graphic gore, capitalizing on urban legends proliferated through mass media and popular culture.â119 As mentioned in Chapter One, the horror genre brings sociocultural undercurrents to the surface for the viewer to observe passively as entertainment, but at the same time the horror genre actively forces the viewer to engage with as a visceral, affective experience. As thematic preoccupations with human monstrosity frequently mark horror, the genre provides insight into both âdominant ideologiesâ and the âmultiple subject positions that question or contest the status quoâ in a way that no other genre can.120 Horror is an affective experience for an audience; the feeling stirred up within the viewer contributes to how themes, motifs, and meanings are communicated. However, as argued by Kinoshita and horror film writer Hirayama Yumeaki, the most crucial aspect of J-horror is the overarching sense of âuneaseâ (fuan) that creates fear (kyÅfu) within the viewer.121 Although this unease is challenging to describe, Hirayama argues that a film can be classified as such if the audience feels horrified, disgusted, uneasy, terrified, or any combination of these emotions. Kinoshita utilizes Freudâs theory of the âuncanny,â122 a sensation similar to that of the âuneaseâ Hirayama discusses, going on to define it as the âfeeling 119 Kinoshita, âThe Mummy Complex,â 104â5. 120 Brown, Cinema of Sensations, 17. 121 According to Hirayama, the difference between kyÅfu and fuan is that kyÅfu has two options rooted in the ingrained âFight or Flightâ response. KyÅfu, for example, elicits one of these two options: either one will choose to âfightâ the threat or âfleeâ from the threat in this kind of scenario. While a sense of fuan has many options when it comes to the elicited response. Unlike kyÅfu, the overwhelming sense of fuan comes with guaranteed uncertainty both in the eventual outcome and the possible solutions. Although both can be deemed âfrighteningâ, the obscured result and/or cause of feelings of unease makes it much more frightening in Hirayamaâs opinion. Hirayama, KyÅfu no kÅzÅ, 48â53. 122 The uncanny as described by Freud can be located in both fiction and physical life. The uncanny can be broken into two sets of phenomena: The first being âthe indiscernibility of the living and the dead, the animate and the inanimate, and the human and the nonhumanâ and second, the use of repetition. Kinoshita, âThe Mummy Complex,â 106. 34 of dread and horror aroused by what is known or familiar.â123 It is not simply scary or fear-inducing but a mixed set of affective emotions that make the genre incomparable. Making films that utilise the fuan tactic, often called âatmospheric horror,â over a âstraightâ visceral fear-based horror is effective and something Hirayama believes J-horror is particularly good at.124 This is what Japanese author Roka KÅen refers to as the difference between âSilent Fearâ and âMotion Fearâ when discussing the main differences between âWesternâ horror cinema and the J-horror genre.125 Motion Fear is, for example, a jump scare by which the viewer is startled, creating a fear-like reaction, while Silent Fear is created from the overall atmosphere of the cinematography, sound design and other formal elements. As such, J-horror is overflowing with the âterrible placesâ that Clover described as one key element of the U.S. slasher genre. However, it is a prominent characteristic of J-horror to feature locations that are often places both the viewer and characters would generally consider pleasant or mundane: for example, oneâs own home or school, frequently used modes of public transportation, or even the city at large.126 However, within the realm of J-horror, these safe spaces, ones that audiences may frequent on a day-to-day basis, become places of unease, terror, and graphic violence. The image of a previously safe space becoming a âterrible placeâ comes with the realisation that any location has the potential to become a site of fear, making the filmâs events that much more terrifying. 123 Kinoshita, âThe Mummy Complex,â 106. 124 Hirayama, KyÅfu no kÅzÅ, 45. 125 Roka KÅen è¦è±å ¬å, âHorÄ eiga ni nani ga motomerareteiru nokaâ ãã©ã¼æ ç»ã«ä½ãæ±ãããã¦ããã®ã Eureka, Poetry and Criticism 54â11, no.794 (2022): 152â155.ãæ´ãã©ã¼ã¯åã®ææããJãã©ã¼ã¯éã®ææã 126 Mitsuyo Wada-Marciano, âJ-horror: New Mediaâs Impact on Contemporary Japanese Horror Cinema,â Canadian Journal of Film Studies 16, no.3 (2007): 23 â 48. 35 Moreover, Japanese film scholar Jay McRoy argues in his book that Japanese directors tend to employ images of the human body and its boundaries as existing within the larger symbolic narrative.127 He points to the motifs and themes of J-horror as associated with how Japanese filmmakers are informed by Japanese sociocultural doctrines when creating a film. However, as discussed in the section on horror in Chapter One, the image of the boundaries of the body being tested is not unique to J-horror cinema or Japanese media. Here, I argue that J-horror genre and US-centric horror films are quite similar in what they do and their goals. Primarily, both seek to scare their audience â or, minimally, produce a reaction â through a visual representation of something horrific that connects to the realistic fears and anxieties of said audience. Many of the fears and anxieties prominently displayed in J-horror can also be found internationally, which shifts the undertones within J-horror from a hyper-specific cultural critique to an amalgamation of âthe larger networks of global cultural flows, [â¦] intermedial intersections, and cross-fertilizations.â128 As such, the themes in J-horror can be applied constructively to performing sociocultural analysis in a broader sense beyond âJapan-specificâ elements. Therefore, if J-horror has many elements similar to US-centric horror, it is important to touch briefly upon how it differs. One key element appears to be the feeling J-horror films provide to the audience. Most US-centric horror films rely heavily on Motion Fear, like the jump scare, whose origin and outcome are clear and distinguishable for the audience and characters. In contrast, a film or story with an unidentified aggressor, one utilising Silent Fearâan invisible ghost/spirit, disease, or magicâwreaking havoc amongst a group of friends, small town, or 127 McRoy, Nightmare Japan, 19. 128 Brown, Cinema of Sensations, 7. 36 family creates a broader sense of fear as the cause is unknown, and so is the possible outcome. This is called âAtmospheric Horrorâ and can describe the tactics recent Japanese horror directors, especially those associated with the J-horror films from the 1990s and 2000s, often use to scare the audience. The lack of clear and identifiable cause and effect creates a tension that, when it cumulates into a denouement, can be so much more frightening than a torture-porn, splatter, or slasher-style horror film. 2.3 Japanalysis: Tools and Methodology Here, it is crucial to outline the key terms and tools used in scholarship that discusses Japanese literature, gender, and contemporary sociocultural realities in Japan. These tools will be used in the analysis of The Forest of Love to connect with Sonoâs depiction of the female and how I argue this representation is an extreme reflection of the problems that exist beyond the fantasy of fiction. 2.3.1 The Tools Continuing on the theme of familiar tropes, I aruge that one of the main contributing factors to the lack of research on the Japanese Final Girl and scholarsâ failure heretofore to apply Final Girl theory to Japanese horror cinema stems from the already wide breadth of existing and culturally specific characters and themes that scholarship and criticism usually highlight. Those such as pregnancy, birth, menstruation, and familiar characters like single mothers, and yÅkai129 to name a few, continue to be applicable to Japanese society in the contemporary moment. This 129 YÅkai (å¦æª) are traditional folkloric spirits/ monsters/ sprites and so on. There are many types of yÅkai, which include but are not limited to, female ghosts or jyokai (å¥³æª), Yamauba (山姥), kappa (河童), kitsune (ç), and oni (鬼). For more information, see the following texts: Felicia Katz-Harris, YÅkai: Ghosts, Demons & Monsters of Japan, trans. Kaya Laterman, (Museum of New Mexico Press, 2019). SHIBA RyÅtarÅ å¸é¦¬é¼å¤ªé, YÅkaiå¦æª, (KÅdansha, 1973). 37 oversaturation of familiar tropes in Japanese horror cinema persists due to what I argue is a stagnation of patriarchal views that remain an integral part of Japan's culture and, therefore, continue to be the overarching themes present within Japanese media. The most crucial aspect of these well-studied tropes is that, regardless of their specific characteristics, most are gendered feminine, and the motifs surround highly gendered concepts. The view of the feminine as the antagonist or, moreover, as something that is cursed, dirty, or decaying, has roots in hare ke kegare (ãã¬ã»ã±ã»ã±ã¬ã¬), a conceptual structure that places the feminine, particularly menstruation and birth, in the realm of what is considered âdirty.â130 This was primarily due to the high infant mortality rate in pre-modern Japan but continues in ambivalent attitudes towards pregnancy and birth.131 The ability to produce not only a new life but the possibility of that life being something inhuman becomes a source of great fear and anxiety for men and women alike. However, this affects women more as they constantly face the reality of the penetrability and the permeability of their bodies, sometimes in ways they do not choose. 2.3.2 One Track Mind: Woman as Mother As established above, gender-based themes are quite common in J-horror. Another theme presented through gendered motifs is the representation of gendered value systems and idealised norms at their most extreme. For example, the image of a womanâs role as a wife and mother that was promoted by the Japanese government during Japanâs modernization, throughout the Meiji and Showa Periods is often associated with a demure demeanour, a soft voice, and respectful 130 HASHISEKO Mizuho æ©è¿«çç©, ââSaiyakuâ toshite no ninshin/ shussan â dorama âjuon noroi no ieâ niokeru jendÄâããç½åãã¨ãã¦ã®å¦å¨ ã»åºç£âãã©ããåªæ¨ åªãã®å®¶ãã«ãããã¸ã§ã³ãã¼ã, Eureka, Poetry and Criticism 54â11, no.794 (2022): 136â143. 131 HASHISEKO, âSaiyaku,â 136. 38 language use.132 During this period, these traits were taught in âfemininity training,â courses often imposed on women according to what became the standard cultural codes.133 These elements were mainly focused on the feminine as displaying and embodying âmodesty,â âelegance,â and âtidiness.â134A woman with these qualities was seen to be the ideal partner, willing to sacrifice her own needs and desires to satisfy those of others, a âgentle femininity [â¦] without superfluous ego and otherwise unremarkableâ135 but highly desirable within Japanese patriarchal society. This image of the idealized Japanese women can also be connected to âtraditions of feminine âgoodnessââ within cultural discourses that often focus on the female body and female suffering.136 And these images and social pressures were not confined to the years of Japanâs rapid prewar modernization. The postwar period saw similar promotions of women as primarily caretakers and homemakers, better known as the sengyÅ shufu (housewife), especially after the rapid increase of equal rights for Japanese women brought about under the Allied Occupation of Japan (1945-1952).137 The image of the idealized wife and mother all come with greater nuances (that also depend on the time period and point of analysis) that are deeper than the ones I have highlighted here. However, in this thesis I purposefully use scholarship that refers to these images as a point of analysis for contemporary film from the 1990s onward in a way that relates to the analysis of The Forest of Love that is to come in Chapter Three. 132 Kathryn Hemmann, âIllusion, Reality and Fearsome Femininity in Takashi Miikeâs Audition.â Gender and Contemporary Horror in Comics, Games and Transmedia, ed. Robert Shail et al. (Emerald Publishing, 2019), 109â120. 133 Yoshiko Matsumoto, âAlternative Femininity: Personae of Middle-aged Mothersâ In Japanese Language, Gender, and Ideology: Cultural Models and Real People, ed. Shigeko Okamoto and Janet S. Shibamoto Smith (Oxford University Press, 2004), 240 â 255. 134 Matsumoto, âAlternative Femininity,â 240. 135 Hemmann, âFearsome Femininity,â 115. 136 Ruth McPhee, Female Masochism in Film: Sexuality, Ethics and Aesthetics (Routledge, 2016), 47. 137 Julia C. Bullock, Ayako Kano, James Welker, Rethinking Japanese Feminisms (University of Hawaiâi Press, 2018). 39 Although the prevalence of female victimsâand painting female victims as exemplars of the ideal feminineâis common in both Japanese and American horror, the sociocultural connotations appear to differ. The real-life deep-seated gender imbalance that women face in their daily domestic and work spheres regularly appears in Japanese horror. For example, Dark Water features a single mother struggling to raise her young daughter amid a messy divorce. While battling her ex-husbandâs attempts to denigrate her motherly duties and find work to support her child, she also must fight off the malignant spirit of a young girl, the victim of parental neglect because of overworked parents. This film representsâalbeit in an extreme wayâthe realities women face as they navigate the consequences of choosing to fulfill or not fulfill a maternal role within Japanâs patriarchal society. Some describe their reality as a âdouble-edged swordâ even now when they are given the choice to stay at work after marriage and children. 138 However, company expectations and the Japanese taxation system continue to make maintaining a dualistic lifestyle of career and marriage difficult. Moreover, more women are choosing to stay childless and single, fearing that if they pursue either, they will be âexpected to act in the mother role that is demanded by Japanese societyâ rather than being their true selves.139 A similar prominent contemporary issue is shÅshika140 (the low birth rate crisis). Many women entering the workforce in Japan still battle looming stereotypes for their gender. The expectation that they will wear high heels and make-up and present an overwhelmingly upbeat 138 Motoko Rich, âJapanâs Working Mothers: Record Responsibilities, Little Help from Dads,â The New York Times, February 2, 2019. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/02/world/asia/japan-working-mothers.html 139 Motoko Rich, âCraving Freedom, Japanâs Women Opt Out of Marriage,â The New York Times, August 3, 2019. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/08/03/world/asia/japan-single-women-marriage.html 140 ShÅshika or ShÅshikÅreika (å°å­åã»å°å­é«é½¢å) literally translates to âdecrease in childrenâ the later term is the full version that includes the rapid aging of Japanâs population. Together the issues have been at the forefront of government family and economic policy since the early 2000s. 40 yet demure persona remains a common complaint.141 Even if one enters a more relaxed workplace with fewer sexist expectations, there remains the societal standard of âmarriage resignationâ or kekkon taishoku sei.142 This is an established societal standard or âruleâ within Japanese businesses where if a woman marries, she will quit her job, and if she does not want to quit, she will not get married.143 This expectation comes not only from the workplaceâoneâs coworkers, superiors, and companyâbut from society in general. It means that women are less likely to return to work after marriage, and even less likely after the birth of their first child, when compared to their male counterparts.144 Those who choose to go back to work often report being generally displeased with doing so as the division of work in the home largely falls on them.145 Moreover, companies sometimes express reluctance to hire or promote women into positions with substantial responsibility, as it is assumed that they will not continue with the company after marriage or childbirth. However, due to the rigidity of these societal standards, an increasing number of women are choosing their careers over a family. To combat the gender gap and discrimination, there have been many bylaws and regulations put in place by the government to prevent workplace and societal discrimination against women who continue to work.146 Even so, these regulations have evidently done little to put career-minded women at ease, as shÅshika remains a prevalent issue; that is, women are still choosing not to have children. 141 SUGII Shizuko æäºéå­, JendÄ byÅdÅ shakai no jitsugen e âokashiiâ kara âatarimaeâ ni ã¸ã§ã³ãã¼å¹³ç­ç¤¾ä¼ã®å®ç¾ã¸ããããããããããããã¾ããã«, (nihon hyÅronsha, 2023). 142 Kekkon taishoku sei (çµå©éè·å¶) literally translates to âmarriage resignation law,â is not an actual law but was and is the widely accepted standard in which women resign from their jobs shortly before or after getting married. 143 SUGII, JendÄ byÅdÅ, 234. 144 SUZUKI Atsuko é´æ¨æ¦å­. âJendÄ yakuwari fubyÅdÅ no mekanizumu â shokuba to kateiâ ã¸ã§ã³ãã¼å½¹å²ä¸å¹³ç­ã®ã¡ã«ããºã âè·å ´ã¨å®¶åº­â, Japanese Psychological Review 60, No. 1 (2017): 62â80. 145 Suzuki, âJendÄ yakuwari,â 69. 146 Suzuki, âJendÄ yakuwari,â 65. 41 These gendered issues are regularly addressed in Japanese horror films as was discussed above vis-Ã -vis Dark Water. An important difference between these realities and the way they are presented in horror films is that in real life the social and economic pressures that affect women work slowly over time and are hard to pinpoint, whereas in horror films such pressures are depicted as something far more gruesome and with violent potential, capable of causing an explosive and devastating reaction. The damage caused by patriarchal social forces is often illustrated in film as a violent reckoning. 2.3.3 ShÅjo and Queer Pressures The Japanese Final Girl, as represented in Sonoâs films, particularly The Forest of Love, appears to be somewhat symptomatic of the contemporary sociocultural climate in Japan. This will be made clear in Chapter Three in the analysis of Sonoâs style and Forest. However, here I briefly highlight how in my analysis I engage the above discourse of common themes and motifs in Japanese horror films regarding their reflections of particular aspects of the Japanese sociocultural climate. As noted in Chapter One, surviving the murderous attacks of the killer-protagonist is a fundamental characteristic of Carol Cloverâs Final Girl. A key question then is: how we can consider a character who dies in the film to be a type of Final Girl? As we will see in the analysis of Sonoâs films in Chapter Three, characters that I argue can be considered Final Girls in a Japanese modeâthat is, Japanese Final Girlsâdo sometimes die. How can we understand this? The Japanese Final Girlâs survival depends upon the queering of her identity. In other words, her 42 death depends upon which of societyâs fears and anxieties she, as a harbinger of chaos, represents. Therefore, we can interpret the âfinalâ in the phrase Japanese Final Girl both literally and figuratively. Her death is final, and she is the last of her kind; the Japanese Final Girl, the villainous heroine, is the final frontier, both the last challengeâthe final bossâand the last to challenge the society that restrains her. By looking at the qualities through this lens, we can understand what traits and characteristics make the Japanese Final Girl different from the classic Final Girl, but still related to her. The Japanese Final Girl still maintains her prominent classic Final Girl qualities; she is still subversive, and she queers the expectations of socially standard gender representation and any social norms upheld by the society/culture of production. The Final Girl, and horror films in general, often challenge the viewer to recognize the performativity of their identities and âto consider what their own individual âperformancesâ convey to those around them.â147 The Japanese Final Girlâs norm-defying existence, and more importantly, her death, is the catalyst for a violent dismantling of sociocultural value systems and a subversion of expectations, which illuminates how easy it is for the status quo to fall apart if prodded correctly. This can be viewed as a challenge to Japanese societyâs fear of change and unwillingness to adapt, stagnating in a way that produces societal chaos within groups who are most vulnerable, in this case, queer female youth. Although hard to detect in real life, the subtle but ever-present potential for upheaval is materialized in horror media as an extreme event of violence that causes severe damage to the status quo and the long-upheld societal value systems. As highlighted earlier in this chapter, the perpetuation of the image of the ideal feminine as conforming to standards for the role of a mother and wife has dominated social media discourse since the Meiji period and has dictated what is considered appropriately feminine for 147 McRoy, Nightmare Japan, 40. 43 real-life Japanese women. However, this is not the only image within media that has perpetuated socially approved, patriarchal standards of femininity. The image of the shÅjo (literally âyoung womanâ) is pervasive in popular media and provides a template that girls and young women are implicitly pressured to emulate, and by which they are often judged. Because shÅjo is literally a life stage, from roughly 12 to young adulthood, all females of that age experience âshÅjo-ness.â However, as presented in popular media, the image of the shÅjo (literally âyoung girlâ) perpetuates representations of the ideal (young) woman as structured through the male gaze. Images of âthe shÅjoâ are unrealistic; the flat, stereotypical girl characters commonly found in anime, manga, film, and other popular media are presented as being ideal, and although Japanese in origin, are a complete misrepresentation, caricatures of Japanese (young) women and their lives.148 At its core, shÅjo anime, for example, is specifically an episode length (typically 20 â 30 minutes) of commercials advertising toys to young girls, demonstrating not just what the ideal is for their role in society but the items they ought to have to fulfil said role.149 However, in a more positive social analysis, scholars have argued that the concept or image of shÅjo, for the young girls who consume it, represents the momentary freedom they enjoy in life before entering society through work and/or marriage. John Treat argues that in real life, this period of innocence and exploration, free from societyâs expectations, is a crucial time for real-life young girls, which is why the shÅjo image is of concern not just to the young women 148 Kumiko Saito, âMagic, shÅjo, and Metamorphosis: Magical Girl Anime and the Challenges of Changing Gender Identities in Japanese Society,â The Journal of Asian Studies 73, no. 1 (2014): 143â164. 149 Saito âMagic, shÅjo, and Metamorphosis,â 145. 44 consumers of shÅjo media, but also to cultural critics.150 When represented in narrative, this time is often portrayed in technicolour (figuratively) through the large images of flowers and stars, and the doe-eyed heroines that feature in shÅjo manga and anime. Frenchy Lunning sees the image of the shÅjo in media (particularly manga) as a rejection of sexual maturity, paradoxically highlighted by obscenely feminine presentations like ruffles, light colours, and a preoccupation with cuteness.151 This overt and obscene kind of representation is othered, placed outside the realm of the two âacceptableâ roles for women as defined by the Japanese patriarchy: the wife/mother, reduced to her role in reproduction; or the hyper-sexualized commodified object, such as the beautiful victims of the slasher film or the shining magical girls of shÅjo manga.152 The role of the shÅjo as a commodified object, however, can be for both heterosexual male consumption and for the real shÅjo the media products are designed to target. The shÅjo illuminates patriarchal societyâs obsession with feminine sexual purity; this powerful young girl is seen as the âfetish of abjectionâ and positioned simultaneously as âpresexual and hypersexual, virginal but seductive, innocent but dangerous.â153 She is the ideal feminine form filled with horrific potential but safely situated in her childlike state and, in the meantime, devoid of overt sexuality. Moreover, this image of the shÅjo in Japanese horror is often combined with a visual representation of the complicated relationship between queerness and Japanese society, one that has historically disapproved of homosexuality and explicit female sexuality since the 150 John W. Treat, âYoshimoto Banana Writes Home: ShÅjo Culture and the Nostalgic Subject,â The Journal of Japanese Studies 19, no. 2 (1993): 353â387. 151 Lunning, âUnder the Ruffles,â 8â10. 152 Lunning, âUnder the Ruffles,â 7. 153 Lunning, âUnder the Ruffles,â 13â14. 45 introduction of Judeo-Christian belief systems.154 Sono, in particular, seems quite fond of pseudo-lesbian imagery in his horror films, employing an overt display of the female body as a sexualised object in a hyper-sexualised all-girls atmosphere. Although these scenes of female sexuality appear within the safe girls-only realm of seishun jidai (youth)155 and are interpreted as expressions of âappropriateâ queerness in Japanese society,156 the reality is far bleaker. Female sexuality being explored through other women is still seen as a way for young women to explore sexuality without âspoilingâ their virtue, effectively maintaining the ideal trajectory from shÅjo freedom to standard heterosexuality once they reach maturity, marry a man, and have children.157 These images, as seen in Sonoâs films TAG (2015) and The Forest of Love (2019), also double as another form of the pressure on women to fulfil a specific image as desired by the patriarchy. Rather than being a source of liberation, sexual freedom, and female independence, the images of the shÅjo that are presented in Sonoâs films (as well as typical shÅjo media) are another way to control the idealised image of what it means to be a young female in Japanese society. The overwhelming pressures that Japanese media and social systems put upon women to play the role of the desired ideal feminine are creating female monsters of Japanese horror cinema who engage in chaos because of continuous exploitation, abuse, and gendered 154 Mark J. McLelland, Male Homosexuality in Modern Japan: Cultural Myths and Social Realities (Routledge, 2000). See also: Mark J. McLelland, âJapanâs Queer Cultures,â 2011. https://ro.uow.edu.au/artspapers/265 155 Seishun jidai (éæ¥æä»£), translated literally as the spring of oneâs life, is the term used to refer to the pleasant days of oneâs youth. Seishun jidai is typically considered to refer to the period between the ages of 15-24, with 15 being the generally agreed upon start, but the exact end age is debatable, with some arguing 18 and some 22. However, the moment of finishing oneâs education and beginning work is understood as the true end year, regardless of age at that time. 156 Lindsey Nelson, âJhorÄ ni okeru ikutsumo no jendaaka sareta kūkan (gendered spaces) â eiga âgekijÅ rei zeroâ no âjoshi dake no sekaiâ Jãã©ã¼ã«ãããããã¤ãã®ã¸ã§ã³ãã¼åãããç©ºé (gendered spaces) â æ ç»ãåå ´ç é¶ã¼ã­ãã®âå¥³å­ã ãã®ä¸ç,â Translated by YOSHIDA Ikumi åç°è²æª, Eureka, Poetry and Criticism 54â11, no.794 (2022): 181â195. 157 Deborah Shamoon, âSituating the ShÅjo in ShÅjo Manga: Teenage Girls, Romance Comics, and Contemporary Japanese Culture,â in Japanese Visual Culture: Explorations in the World of Manga and Anime, ed. Mark W. MacWilliams, (Taylor and Francis, 2008), 139 â 141. 46 restrictions. The utilisation and exploitation of the female as a vessel for sex, violence, and meaning for the sake of âartâ is something Sono himself is guilty of perpetuating as he continuously represents female willful self-destruction as a direct result and catalyst of the imploding of Japanese societal standards. This will all be discussed in Chapter Three concerning how the Japanese Final Girl creates a terrifying representation of female power. 2.4 Masochism as Power: Gender and Pain The key to the difference between Cloverâs Final Girl and Sonoâs Japanese Final Girl (as well as his other non-Final Girl female protagonists) is masochism. Masochism and what constitutes its qualities have been debated by philosophers for decades and, although depictions of masochism often appear in literature and popular culture, it is widely misunderstood in those realms. Although I draw on philosophy to describe masochism, I will not delve into the philosophical debate at length; rather, I rely on the terminology as defined and explained by the scholarly work that I use in my analysis of the Japanese Final Girl. As will become apparent in the discussion of Forest in Chapter Three, masochismâspecifically female masochismâis a significant and consistent theme. In Female Masochism in Film: Sexuality, Ethics and Aesthetics (2016), cinema studies scholar Ruth McPhee explores this topic in the context of âWesternâ cinema from a variety of genres, highlighting films from North America, Australia, and Europe from the 1990s through to the early 2010s.158 Similarly, Japanese literary scholar Gretchen Jones analyzes the way 158 Ruth McPhee, Female Masochism in Film: Sexuality, Ethics and Aesthetics, ed. Patricia MacCormack, (Routledge, 2016). 47 masochism creates a structural logic in modern Japanese narrative.159 As Jones explains, the term âmasochismâ was coined by Richard Von Krafft-Ebing in 1886 and has undergone many alterations in the psychoanalytical discourse of philosophers like Sigmund Freud, Theodor Reik, and Gilles Deleuze.160 However, for the purpose of my argument, I will focus on Reikâs and Deleuzeâs definitions as utilised by McPhee and Jones.161 Reik argued that masochism is purposeful and not merely a sexual experience; Deleuze later clarified this by explaining masochism as a new form of expression with formal elements and a system âbased on conventions, with a distinguishable configuration and structure.â162 The characteristics essential to masochism, according to Reik and Deleuze, are the âspecial significance of fantasy,â the âsuspense factor,â the âpersuasiveâ or âdemonstrative feature,â and âprovocative fear.â163 This list highlights masochism first and foremost as a performative experience beginning in a fantasy in which the masochist imagines a scenario that may or may not produce pain (and, therefore, pleasure). The expectation and experience of discomfort the imagined act could cause creates feelings of suspense and anticipation.164 The third feature is how the masochist exhibits their suffering; the fourth is their demand for the torturer to provide them with a painful experience.165 The process of establishing a contract with the torturer to provide the right kind of painful experienceâone that will in fact bring the masochist pleasureâmeans that the masochist is effectively the âstage managerâ of the fantasy performance. 159 Gretchen Jones, âSubversive Strategies: Masochism, Gender and Power in KÅno Taekoâs âToddler-Huntingâ,â East Asia 18 no. 4 (2000): 79-107. 160 Jones, âSubversive Strategiesâ 84. 161 For the original texts, see: Theodor Reik, Masochism in Modern Man, translated by Margret H. Beigel and Gertrude M. Kurth, (Farrar, Straus, and Co., 1941) and Gilles Deleuze, Masochism, translated by Jean McNeil (Zone Books, 1991). 162 Jones, âSubversive Strategiesâ 84-5. McPhee also discusses this on page 26 of Female Masochism. 163 McPhee, Female Masochism, 25. 164 Jones, âSubversive Strategiesâ 87. 165 McPhee, Female Masochism, 25. 48 However, McPhee argues that this vision of the empowered masochist is often manipulated in media in a way that marginalises and oppresses the female, through the representation of a masochistic experience that is structured as a performance for the male audience for male entertainment.166 Far from a way of exploring the power and liberation of masochism, including that practiced by female masochists, films and other media forms often present women as truly desiring to be hurt, with no reference to the pleasure and âstage managingâ of Reikâs or Deleuseâs masochism. The formal structure of masochism aside, McPheeâs argument focuses mainly on female masochism and representations of the female experience of masochism. A few of the central points are the opening of the body, female self-harm, the female body, and female suffering, all of which challenge societal norms and value systems. All these elements exist on a similar plain: self-harm is an act of opening the body, is an image of suffering often associated with the feminine, and challenges societal ideas of what is considered ânormalâ behaviours. The opening of the body, through sexual acts, violence, or both, is essential to the erotic masochistic experience and disturbs the integrity of the corporeal subject in a way that breaks down the mundane by demanding an awareness of the vulnerability of the body, an experience that brings the subject (the masochist) closer to âthe alluring void of death.â167 Masochistic self-harm highlights the feminine as a performance and shows the female body deviating from âfemininity in its socially prescribed formâ which disturbs those social systems.168 This disturbance then allows society to create unjust associations between masochism (self-harm) and mental illness in a way that excludes any potential variation and perpetuates the social value systems and norms. 166 McPhee, Female Masochism, 26. 167 McPhee, Female Masochism, 56-7. 168 McPhee, Female Masochism, 82-4. 49 Gretchen Jonesâ work on masochism-as-power in a Japanese context looks at the trope of female masochism in female author KÅno Taekoâs âToddler-Hunting.â169 Jones argues that KÅnoâs text,170 as is the case with other masochistic literary works, creates âcontradictions, lapses in logic, and even logical âimpenetrabilityâ.â171 However, she contends that the paradox of masochism is purposefully utilised by KÅno not simply to draw attention to but to subvert the binaries that cause âoppression based on difference.â172 Her argument centres around the idea that although the protagonist in KÅnoâs story appears to occupy an âanti-feministâ and traditionally submissive role, she holds the highest position of power, independence, and control; her masochism demonstrates her control but also acts to contrast her ârealâ life and fantasy.173 For the purposes of this thesis, I draw particularly on Jonesâ focus on the nature of masochism as playing with power hierarchies in a way that is a performance of âsocietal, sexual, or gender power relations and authority structures,â which translates to demonstrating the true meaningless nature of social value systems and binaries.174 Lastly, I would also like to briefly highlight Japanese literature scholar Emerald Kingâs discussion of female masochism in âMazohizumu no mon: Masochistic and Sadistic Representations of Women in Japanese Exploitation Films and Reidissu Komikku [Ladies comics].â175 Similarly to Jonesâs argument in Toddler-Hunting, King highlights the importance of fantasy in the exploitation film Gate of Flesh (Nikutai no mon èä½ã®é Suzuki Seijun, 1964) 169 Gretchen Jones, âSubversive Strategies: Masochism, Gender and Power in KÅno Taekoâs âToddler-Huntingâ,â East Asia 18 no. 4 (2000): 79-107. 170 KÅNO Taeko æ²³éå¤æµå­, (Toddler-Hunting) YÅji kari å¹¼å ç©ã, 1961. 171 Jones, âSubversive Strategiesâ 91. 172 Jones, âSubversive Strategiesâ 91. 173 Jones, âSubversive Strategiesâ 106. 174 Jones, âSubversive Strategiesâ 91â2. 175 Emerald King, âMazohizumu no mon: Masochistic and Sadistic Representations of Women in Japanese Exploitation Films and Reidissu Komikku,â Image & Narrative 12, no.1 (2011): 19â31. 50 and in ladiesâ comicsâ masochistic depictions. The images may, at first glance, be sadistic depictions of violence inflicted upon women for the male gaze. Still, in actuality, they are a powerful way for female characters to express their sexuality and control.176 I utilise these three texts in combination for my analysis of Sonoâs Japanese Final Girl and return to the topic of female masochism as a position of power in the discussion of Forest in Chapter Three. 2.5 Japanese Horror Illuminations In this chapter, I have described Japanese horror cinema, some of the elements important to understanding the Japanese sociocultural and political landscape, and the connections I believe to exist between the two. I have also highlighted a few essential tools and elements I utilise in Chapter Three to analyse Sonoâs The Forest of Love and the Japanese Final Girl, such as female masochism, the shÅjo, idealized roles for adult women such as the sengyÅ shufu, mother, and wife and the currently popular Japanese horror themes and motifs. The goal in providing this information is to form the foundations of my analysis of Sonoâs Final Girl and the Japanese Final Girl within the scope of The Forest of Love. In outlining the tools currently used to analyse Japanese horror cinema, I draw from the existing scholarship to support my analysis and explanation of the Japanese Final Girl. Furthermore, highlighting the contemporary realities of women in Japanese society will allow me to effectively form a correlation, if only a tentative one, between Sonoâs depictions of the Japanese Final Girl as reflecting (and critiquing) Japanese sociocultural issues. Moreover, in including a discussion of female masochism, I can bring in new and undiscussed potential characteristics of the Final Girl, not only expanding the discussion of Japanese horror cinema but also the Final Girl trope and theory. Chapter Three will focus on 176 King, âMazohizumu no mon,â 23, 29. 51 Sono, his films, reputation, and style, followed by a full summary and then an analysis of Forest. This analysis will highlight the Japanese Final Girl and Sonoâs particular stylistic choices, the qualities of which I believe lead to the Japanese Final Girl as a new and effective character trope within Japanese horror genres. 52 Chapter 3: Into the Forest I may be desperate, but yours is a dead womanâs world! â Taeko, The Forest of Love Chapter Two gave a brief background to horror films in Japan and outlined the characteristics that have come to define Japanese horror cinema and the J-horror genre, such as the gendered focus on menstruation, pregnancy, and motherhood, and how these elements contrast with American horror. Moreover, I provided the key tools and terms that will be used to perform a detailed analysis of The Forest of Love and the Japanese Final Girl. This chapter will primarily focus on an explanation and analysis of The Forest of Love. However, I also give insight into Sono as a director, his style, and the controversies surrounding his films and his personal life. The goal of all of this is to provide evidence for the argument of why and how the Japanese Final Girl not only exists but is an effective trope that deserves further discussion. 3.1 Come On, Introduce Yourself Properly: Director Sono Sion Director Sono Sion (1961 -) began his career with his debut film I am Sono Sion!! (Ore wa Sono Sion da!! ä¿ºã¯åå­æ¸©ã !!) at the Pia Film Festival in 1985. Following this, he won his first award at the same festival in 1987 with A Manâs Flower Road (Otoko no hanamichi ç·ã®è±é). He later used the award money to make more films and moved to California briefly, having been accepted to the University of California Berkley, although he never attended classes and instead spent time watching B cinema.177 After moving back to Japan, he continued to make 177 David F. Hoenigman, âChannelling Chaos â An Interview with Sono Sion,â 3:AM Magazine, 2009. 53 experimental films until his breakthrough in 2001 with Suicide Club (Jisatsu saakuruèªæ®ºãµã¼ã¯ã«) where he gained the most notoriety and began collecting a following of fans. In 2008 Sono released Love Exposure (Ai no mukidashi æã®ããã ã), his most critically acclaimed film to date, followed by the almost equally popular Cold Fish (Tsumetai nettaigyo å·ããç±å¸¯é­, 2010) and Guilty of Romance (Koi no tsumi æã®ç½ª, 2011).178 Sono received his first big international acclaim in 2013, winning the Peopleâs Choice Award at The Toronto International Film Festival for Why Donât You Play in Hell? (Jigoku de naze warui å°çã§ãªãæªã).179 In 2016, Sono was selected by Nikkatsu180 among a few other directors for its Roman Porno reboot project, where he created Antiporno (Anchiporuno ã¢ã³ããã«ã, 2016), the first film in which Sono demonstrated a dramatic shift in messaging.181 The film was praised for its celebration of female freedom and sexuality and its critique of the patriarchy and female sexual objectification in the entertainment industry.182 Sono has demonstrated through his extensive and acclaimed filmography that he is capable of creating art that offers unconventional representations of not only Japanese horror but also Japanese cinema in general. By presenting alternative depictions of traditional Japanese femininity in his films, Sono has demonstrated a general unwillingness to conform to cultural clichés that lie at the base of, in particular, the J-horror genre and, therefore, audience 178 Hoenigman, âChannelling Chaos.â 179 Reuters, âTIFF 2013: 12 Years a Slave wins film festâs top prize,â The Toronto Star, 2013. https://www.thestar.com/entertainment/movies/tiff-2013-12-years-a-slave-wins-film-fest-s-top-prize/article_885185b7-c947-5d35-865e-7b6217b51733.html 180 Since 1912, Nikkatsu (æ¥æ´») has been making films to provide the masses both within Japan and worldwide with Japanese films and media content. Boasting a library of over 7000 films, TV shows, anime, and so on, Nikkatsu is one of Japanâs biggest production studios. Nikkatsu, âKaisha anânaiâ ä¼ç¤¾æ¡å , Nikkatsu, https://www.nikkatsu.com/company/ 181 Yoselin Acevedo, ââAnti-Pornoâ Trailer: Japanese Director Sion Sono Returns with a Feminist Take on Sexuality,â Indie Wire, 2017. 182 Acevedo, âDirector Sion Sono Returns.â 54 expectations, I argue. Moreover, Sonoâs continued blatant rejection of typical motifs and themes only adds to the effectiveness of the implied social commentary within his films. Not only does his regular subversion of common tropes reveal and push against those very conventions in Japanese horror by his contemporaries, but the continual popularity of his films suggests a significance among his audiences, which I argue has allowed Sono to emerge as a voice for Japanese horror cinema. This could also suggest that audiences are able to identify with the horror presented before them, whether it is a connection to the Japanese Final Girlâs doomed status or the presentation of the pervasive social issues as gory and catastrophic implosions of Japanese societal ideals. Sonoâs prominent themes and motifs focus on the family's disintegration resulting from female independence and resistance to norms, âWesternâ religion, and the economic disparity of the 1990s in Japan. Sonoâs prevalent themes demonstrate some attempt to reinforce what McRoy calls the âconflict between the past and the modern,â most often appearing as the disintegration of the idealised nuclear family as well as a focus on the male as being a target of bodily violence and the female of sexual violence among the standard representation of fighting monstrous forces.183 Reflecting on Sonoâs previous work, it appears that he is highly aware of the cultural anxieties in Japan. Take Suicide Circle (2001), for example, a film about a barrage of mass suicides taking place throughout Tokyo that baffles even the most informed personnel. This depiction critiques a âculture informed by rampant consumerism [and] social alienation,â all enhanced by the increasing use of technology, complicated gender politics, and the ever-present focus on the idealised shÅjo image.184 Similar social critiques can be found in Sonoâs recent works, like The Forest of Love. His representation of the pivotal and uncertain times of post- 183 McRoy, Nightmare Japan, 19. 184 McRoy, Nightmare Japan, 136. 55 bubble1990s Japan and the high of the 1980s economic bubble demonstrates the generation lost in between, the literal lost generation. Those who were beginning to become adults and find jobs after university in the 1990s, just as the economy crashed, saw new highs of unemployment, with the result that adults in their twenties and thirties were still living at home with their parents.185 Not only were the expectations changing regarding the âidealâ family, but also the ideal form of womanhood changed. This is presented as a fear of the female and of non-traditional, queered women, which brings to mind one of the characteristics of the Final Girl. This social commentary and the pseudo-documentary style where The Forest of Love's events are âinspiredâ by true crime make compelling critiques of Japanese society's gendered anxieties and unwillingness to change in times of adversity. While his films may push against established gender power norms, Sono himself can be seen as a problematic figure and a beneficiary of that same patriarchal power structure. Recently, in 2022, multiple actresses and other women who have worked with Sono have brought forth allegations of sexual misconduct, harassment, and assault.186 Although these allegations have yet to culminate into any formal lawsuit or consequences for Sono187, they come with a barrage of (speculative) evidence and clear instances of said misconduct, from sexually suggestive or inappropriate LINE188 messages to female staff to incidents involving sexually charged advances or inappropriate touching.189 185 Richard Ronald and Allison Alexy, Home and Family in Japan: Continuity and Transformation (Routledge, 2011), 1â2. 186 âSono sion no seikagai wo shutuen jyoyūra ga kokuhatsu! âshuen ni ha daitai te wo dashitaâ to gÅgosuru Åmono kantoku no âhiretsuna yÅkyÅ«,ââ åå­æ¸©ã®æ§å å®³ãåºæ¼å¥³åªããåçºï¼ãä¸»æ¼ã«ã¯ã ãããæãåºãããã¨è±ªèªããå¤§ç©ç£ç£ã®âåå£ãªè¦æ±,â Shūkan Josei PRIMEé±éå¥³æ§ PRIME, April 4, 2022, https://www.jprime.jp/articles/-/23641. 187 âSono sion kantoku ga kokuhatsusareta âseikagaiâ â¦ taiÅ ni owareru jimusho shachÅ no tsuma to shuen jjyoyūtachi no shinjū haâ åå­æ¸©ç£ç£ãåçºããã âæ§å å®³ââ¦å¯¾å¿ã«è¿½ãããäºåæç¤¾é·ã®å¦»ã¨ä¸»æ¼å¥³åªãã¡ã®å¿ä¸­ã¯, Nikkan Gendai Digital, April 12, 2022. 188 LINE is the most widely used communication application in Japan. 189 Shūkan Josei PRIME, âSono sion no seikagai.â 56 With the messaging in some of Sonoâs more recent films like TAG (2015) and Antiporno (2016) providing commentary on the exploitation of the female form in the entertainment industry, questions arise about whether a director like Sono can create a feminist film or whether his work can have a feminist message. Can the artwork of a sexist, misogynist director, someone who actively participates in the exploitation within the industry they are critiquing, be considered for this kind of analysis? It could be argued that when undertaking an analytical perspective, one must separate the author from the text in a way that allows for productive interpretation beyond the constraints of auteur theory. Indeed, a connection can be made between the author of a text and their work; however, this is not the sole avenue of analysis that exists and is not the only perspective to be considered. If anything, I argue that Sonoâs history of female exploitation and misogynist views make the messaging in his films even more fascinating. The ability to produce feminist themes within Forest of Love suggests that feminist theory, themes, and motifs have been co-opted and normalised in media. Horror media continues to profit off female exploitation but also feminist theory, using the existence of this messaging to counterbalance any possible claims of discrimination. Sonoâs tendency to alter tropes and produce socio-politically-conscious commentary within his films has led to what I argue are instances of a Japanese Final Girl that challenges norms, ideals, and standards forced upon women by Japanâs patriarchal society. Sono more literally queers190 Cloverâs Final Girl, but also repeatedly represents femininity and women/girls as something to be feared, something monstrous. The Japanese Final Girl and female characters fade into the background or are forced to become the villains who violently dismember 190 Sono queers the classic Final Girl quite literally by making her have a queer sexuality, presenting her as either bisexual, lesbian or ambiguously queer. Moreover, he also challenges the classic Final Girl trope by adding elements that change her in such a way that she becomes ânon-normalâ and is queer in a looser sense of the term. 57 everything in their path. Not only does this depiction question Japanese value systems, but it also subverts J-horror tropes in a way that opens discourse to new avenues of analysis that see feminine independence (the result of an oppressive patriarchy) as a sociocultural catastrophic reckoning for which Japanese society is entirely unprepared. Focusing on Director Sonoâs filmography, I argue that we can locate an antagonistic Japanese Final Girl that displays non-normative (queer), altered, monstrous, and contemporary characteristics like the more recent renditions of the Final Girl as seen in global horror cinema. Even if there are few examples of Cloverâs Final Girl in Japanese horror, the genre/category can undergo new and productive avenues of analysis regarding female representation by bringing this discourse to discussions of Japanese horror. As discussed, any female character in Japanese horror with similar (and foundational) characteristics to the Japanese Final Girl or classic Final Girl is a testament to the tropeâs proven malleability. Therefore, to determine who this Japanese Final Girl is, we must identify at least a few general and consistent qualities that she must display. The main characteristic of the American slasher Final Girl is her survival. However, in Japanese horror, I argue that this attribute can be changed to include death, or rather to exclude survival. Other Japanese Final Girl characteristics will emerge in the analysis below. 3.2 Thereâs No Love Here: The Forest of Love Synopsis Director Sono Sion's Netflix-produced crime thriller, The Forest of Love, was released in 2019 and was later accompanied in 2020 by a seven-episode series titled The Forest of Love: Deep Cut, which I will not be including in my analysis due to its digressive nature and differing form. Although the official English translation of the title is The Forest of Love, a direct translation from the Japanese (Ainaki mori de sakebe) would be âscream in the loveless forest.â 58 The filmâs events are, both as mentioned by Sono himself and indicated at the end of the film, loosely based on crimes known as the Kitakyūshū Serial Murder Incident (Kitakyūshū kankin satsujin jiken åä¹å·ç£ç¦æ®ºäººäºä»¶), which were committed between 1996 and 2002 by con artist Matsunaga Futoshi.191 With his wife's help, Matsunaga murdered seven people â most of whom were his wife's family members â and extorted money from many others. Finally apprehended in 2002 by the police after one of his hostages escaped, Matsunaga was sentenced to death; his wife to life in prison.192 The film has two plot lines, one contemporary and the other in the past. The flashback sequences from 1985 detail the high school days of three friends at an apparently elite all-girls high school: Mitsuko, Taeko, and Eiko. It is the 1980s, and they are in the middle of planning their school play, Romeo and Juliet, when Eiko, the love interest of both Taeko and Mitsuko, is hit and killed by a car while she is crossing the street. As a result of her tragic death, the drama club makes a suicide pact: they take sleeping medicine and stand on the edge of the school roof, intending to fall to their deaths as the sleeping medicine takes effect. Taeko vows to become a "slut" (yariman) if she survives. All the girls fall except Mitsuko, saved by a vision of Eiko. Taeko lands on a parked car and is left with a limp and a scar over which she later tattoos "Romeo." This plot forms the base for the one set in the present day, 1993, amid Japanâs lost decade and economic slump. This timeframe is where we meet con artist Murata, country-boy Shin (eventually revealed to be a serial killer), and amateur film director friends Jay and Fukami. On the way to their warehouse home, Jay and Fukami meet Shin, newly arrived in Tokyo and âbuskingâ (poorly) on the street. They invite him to stay with them and join their aspiration to make a film, submit it to the Pia Film Festival and become famous. They find out Shin is a virgin 191 Prime Online Editors Club, âKitakyÅ«shÅ« kankin satsujin.â 192 Prime Online Editors Club, âKitakyÅ«shÅ« kankin satsujin.â 59 and call on Taeko to âhelp him out.â She denies their request but takes them to Mitsuko, who has become a shut-in at her family's extravagant home. Mitsuko says she is indeed a virgin but is not interested, to which Taeko responds that she should "make some scars and move on." Mitsuko receives a strange phone call from someone named Murata, who claims he borrowed 50 yen from her when she was a student, and now wants to pay it back. Mitsuko agrees to meet him. Jay, Fukami, Shin and Taeko have been following Mitsuko, hoping to film her, and they witness her meeting with Murata. Taeko informs the trio about Murataâs prior behaviourâhe seduced and conned her sister and her mother, effectively tearing her family apart. This leads to suspicions about him being the serial killer plaguing Tokyo. They decide to make Murata's life as a con man the subject of their film. Mitsukoâs first meeting with Murata, in which he suddenly proposes to her (as a con), is excitedly filmed in secret by the trio as Taeko looks on sobbing in distress. In an effort to save Mitsuko from the lies Murata weaves and the pain he causes, Taeko sacrifices herself by sleeping with him repeatedly, trying to keep his attention on her. However, this plan backfires, causing Mitsuko to fall deeper into Murataâs trap, effectively changing her entire personality to be with him. When Taekoâs behaviour also becomes erratic due to her entanglement with Murata, the trio seeks Mitsukoâs help only to be greeted with her deranged, messy and âout-of-itâ state. Concerned with Mitsukoâs bruised and burned body, as well as her dead-eyed behaviour and her admission that she is sleeping with Murata, they agree to a meeting with Taeko and Murata, who freely admits to torturing Mitsuko. He then orders Taeko to lift her shirt to reveal evidence of the same treatment, saying that he has tortured her, too. As his behaviour at the meeting becomes increasingly manic and outrageous, both Taeko and Shin fleeâTaeko to sob in the street calling out for Romeo, and Shin to the toilet to vomit, though he later returns to the meeting. 60 After various instances of haphazard shooting and Murataâs violent behavior, the film crew the group has hired finds out that Murata, who had previously agreed to pay for the film, has no money and is overwhelmingly abusive. Most of them quit, leaving the original group to continue the film. Soon, Fukami also quits. Jay becomes increasingly depressed with Murata taking over the director role. To snap him out of it, Murata has Mitsuko torture him with the same electric shock rods Murata has used on her and Taeko. When Taeko sobs at the sight, Murata has Mitsuko torture her as well. In the guise of concern over Jayâs attitude, Murata takes them to an abandoned house to shoot the rest of the film. Before arriving, a distraught and teary-eyed Taeko sits in a rest stop bathroom stall disrupted by an erratic Mitsuko excitedly informing her that she is pregnant with Murataâs child, smirking as she turns away from Taekoâs view. At the abandoned house, Mitsuko âaccidentallyâ strangles Jay to death as Murata urges her to pull the ropes around his neck ever tighter. Murata berates Mitsukoâs lack of control and commands the group to destroy all evidence and dispose of the remains. Shin and Mitsuko take the lead in a prolonged sequence of gore as they slowly and exhaustedly dismember and destroy Jayâs remains, Taeko watching on in horror from the corner of the room. While continuing the disposal the next morning, Taeko tries to escape by diving into the lake surrounding the home, but is killed by an unknown gunman upon resurfacing. The remaining members convene in Mitsuko's home, now joined by her sister Ami who has returned from university. Earlier, after Murata had visited Mitsuko at her home, he had run into Ami and easily seduced her. Now, with lovestruck Ami, Shin, and Mitsukoâs help, Murata blackmails her parents and tortures them on camera, eventually bending them to his will, including conning an infusion of money out of a relative. Mitsuko, irritated by Murata ignoring 61 her and his newfound infatuation with Ami, attempts suicide after catching them having sex. Mitsukoâs increasingly erratic behaviour concerns Shin and Murata as they worry about the risk of her exposing their operation. Murata and Shin decide to kill Mitsuko âin the film,â and after informing her of this, she announces that she wants to go shopping for the occasion, accompanied by Ami for insurance. However, Mitsuko attempts to escape. After being caught by Ami, she is later punished with the electric shock rods, leading to a miscarriage of Murata's presumed child and her hospitalization. Murata and Shin return from the hospital to find Mitsuko's father has committed suicide and her mother is in a crazed state. Upon Ami's return from the hospital, she finds the dismembered body of the relative, and is forced by Murata to do the same to her father. She then kills her mother. Later, Murata, in a tearful and distraught act, convinces the doctor at the hospital that Mitsukoâs scars are from self-harm and that they want her to rest at home. After being discharged, Mitsuko agrees to be killed and is taken into a forest by Murata, Shin, and Ami. However, upon their arrival, Mitsuko reveals in a letter that she purposely did not commit suicide in high school and is not a virgin, having slept with all her friendsâ boyfriends and Ami's. She also explains that she was aware that Murata was a con artist and Shin was a serial killer and had hoped they would kill Taeko, her parents, and Ami. Before she finishes, Shin shoots Mitsuko and then Ami, giving the gun to Murata to finish them off, but he cannot. Agitated by Murata's weakness, Shin kills them both, and then turns the gun on Murata, who escapes. After flagging down a car driven by a woman resembling Eiko, Murata asks her where she is going, to which she replies, âto hell.â Shin takes Murata's car and, after picking up a woman having car trouble, is startled by a vision of Eiko, after which he stops the car and runs after her apparition, disappearing into the forest. 62 3.3 The Deep, Dark Forest: An Analysis I have selected a few scenes from the film that I argue are pivotal to the film and accurately demonstrate Mitsuko as a female masochist and as a Japanese Final Girl. These scenes also give the audience a clear picture of who she is and her character development throughout the film. By focusing specifically on the mise-en-scène and cinematography of each scene rather than all cinematic elements, I will be able to pinpoint the scene's affective qualities more clearly. The first scene in question is Mitsukoâs masturbation. Just after Taeko and Mitsuko mournfully look at the now deceased Eiko, blood pouring from her head after a fatal hit and run, Eiko suddenly stands, reanimated by Mitsukoâs imagination. Eikoâs pained smile is highlighted by the blood running down her face as she tells Mitsuko to âhang in thereâ and âgoodbye,â addressing her as Juliet.193 The shot cuts abruptly to an ornately framed photo of Eiko on Mitsuko's dresser, surrounded by antique dolls, toys, knick-knacks and frilly lace in light colours. The sequence places the audience intimately within Mitsukoâs onanism, shrouded in a dreamy haze as we watch her pleasuring herself in extreme close-up shots. However, she remains fully clothed, the unusual presentation making the experience more visceral. The sweaty shots of Mitsuko are graphically interlaced with flashbacks of her friendsâ suicides and Taekoâs subsequent survival. âEikoâ is shown lying seductively in her all-white underwear in front of Mitsuko, appearing to be what she is masturbating to. A brief interlude cuts to a closeup of Mitsuko's face as she is lying on her floor again, sweaty and dishevelled, heavily breathing in sexual pleasure.194 She gasps, staring into the camera dead-eyed, as another jump-cut leads us to 193 Forest, 00:18:53 â 00:19:19. 194 Forest, 00:20:20. 63 the blue-tinged flashback of her drama club's joint suicide. The first cut is presented in point of view (POV)195, most likely Taeko's, of the school roof from the ground, followed by Mitsuko's POV staring down at her friends after their suicide jump, and then another cut to a closeup of Eiko's smiling face behind the fence of the roof.196 Back in the present, Mitsuko, in a medium shot, jeans resting just below her groin, calls out âRomeo, Romeo.â The scene's intimacy is cut short as her mother calls her from downstairs to come to answer the phone. A vision of Eiko in her Romeo costume comes from behind her, lovingly gazing down at her with a smile, with a hand resting gently on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. The romantic embrace is interrupted by Mitsuko frantically rising to go downstairs, the smile fading from Eiko's face as Mitsuko dresses.197 The second scene integral to understanding Mitsukoâs character is that of her cutting her own wrist after finding out that Murata has moved on to Taeko after not getting an immediate answer from Mitsuko about his abrupt proposal. Close-up shots of Mitsukoâs sweaty and dishevelled face and her intensely shaking hands show just how distressed this information has made her. The subsequent medium shot grows a haze around it as Mitsuko faints out of the shot. The dreamy haze of her previous onanism returns as Mitsuko, now lying distraught on the floor, is joined by âEiko,â shown through Mitsukoâs POV. âEikoâ picks up the 50-yen coin given to Mitsuko by Murata and begins to use the edge of it to cut at Mitsukoâs wrist. This dreamy scenario is abruptly interrupted by the reality of the situation as the camera returns to its haze-free state in a medium shot of Mitsuko lying on her floor, cutting aggressively at her wrist with the coin. Shortly after, Mitsukoâs parents enter her room. The sun showers the room in a warm 195 POV or Point of View is the term used to refer to the style of shot in which it appears as if the audience is viewing a scene from a particular characterâs perspective. 196 Forest, 00:20:32. 197 Forest, 00:20:49. 64 glow, showing just how much time has passed since Mitsuko began harming herself. Blood floods from her arm. Each of her parents holds one of her arms to the floor, her father yelling "why is this girl such a disobedient child."198 Straddling her in an over-the-shoulder shot he continues to yell, "Think about your reputation, won't you! You're the eldest daughter of the Ozawa family, damnit!" Mitsuko's mother apologises and offers to call an ambulance.199 Her father points at her mother and says, "Tell them either they turn off the sirens or don't bother coming! We don't want the neighbours wondering what happened."200 The camera cuts to a long shot of her mother running out of her room as Mitsukoâs father scolds her, grabbing her by her neck and threatening to disown her. In a reverse cut, the camera slowly zooms into the dolls surrounding her head. Mitsukoâs father slaps her, his yelling growing faint as the music (Pachelbelâs Canon) crescendos with a sudden cut to the drama club's suicide jump, Taeko's screams echoing in a reverse cut of the dolls as she continues to writhe in pain from her unsuccessful suicide jump, Mitsuko looking on from the roof. The end of this sequence demonstrates Mitsukoâs state of mind and showcases the current chaotic dynamic between her and her parents, specifically the pressures she faces to uphold a certain image within her household so that her household can maintain a certain image within society. 3.3.1 Powerful Pleasures The first of the pivotal sequences I analyse follows the initial flashback sequence of Mitsuko and Taekoâs high school days.201 Although one of female self-pleasure, this sequence is 198 Original dialogue: ããã®å­ã¯ä½ã¦è¦ªä¸å­ãªå­ãªãã ã 199 Original dialogue: Father: ãä¸éä½ãèããããåã¯å°¾æ²¢å®¶ã®é·å¥³ãªãã ããMother:ããã¿ã¾ãããææ¥è»å¼ã³ã¾ãããã 200 Original dialogue: ãããï¼ãµã¤ã¬ã³é³´ããã¦ããã£ã¦æ¥ããªã£ã¦è¨ãããå¨ãã«ä½ããã£ãã¨æããããªããªã 201 Forest, 00:19:20 â 00:19:49. 65 not overly explicit. Especially in comparison to the violence throughout the film, the sexual elements are relatively tame. Mitsuko is shown topless later in the film, but this scene has Mitsuko masturbating fully clothed, sweating profusely, giving the scene a chaotic atmosphere as if she is in a hurry to orgasm. Her emotional tone in this scene, however, contrasts with the mise-en-scène. The hazy glow, warm lighting, and childish decor set up Mitsuko's room as a safe space of (shÅjo) fantasy separated from the dark and oppressive image of the rest of her family home (and the real world). In this sequence, Mitsuko's sweaty, frantic demeanour suggests something more profound than plain sexual desire for her deceased friend, which turns her act of self-pleasure into a desperate and chaotic performance. This is especially interesting as The Forest of Love does allude to Mitsuko's implied struggle with her queer sexuality and jealousy of Taeko, who had an intimate sexual relationship with Eiko.202 Similarly, the second scene in question, Mitsukoâs scene of self-harm, demonstrates her frustration at her inability to follow heteronormative expectations. After Mitsuko runs away from him in shock at his rapid marriage proposal and attempt to kiss her, Murata has turned to Taeko, someone who can satisfy his heterosexual appetite in her societal role as a hypersexualized woman (her âslutâ persona). The familyâs (in particular her fatherâs) abuse of Mitsuko as their eldest daughter, the one who represents what is at stake for their family name, not only leads to her apathy towards her own existence but to her impending rejection of her idealised womanhood as painted by the patriarchal values her family upholds. As demonstrated by Mitsukoâs attireâmostly white or pale brown dresses that fall below the kneeâand attitude up until now, she has been attempting to fulfill the unattainable expectations of the idealised 202 Forest, 00:14:33 â 00:15:13. Mitsuko walks by a classroom that holds Eiko and Taeko in their underwear, Mitsuko listens from the outside as the two are pictured in implied intimacy, Eiko moaning and both sweaty with expressions of sexual ecstasy. 66 Japanese woman to no avail. This is indicated in her fatherâs complaints of Mitsukoâs lack of filial piety and obedience as a significant point of disappointment. Her father has chosen to remain pre-emptively disappointed in all her decisions and only proves both himself and the patriarchy correct with this instance of Mitsukoâs self-harm. This event is the catalyst that begins Mitsukoâs transformation into an apathetic background character. Almost as if it is a kind of psychological âbreakâ due to the strain of upholding her image, Mitsuko exhibits a split personality. One is her idealised heterosexual, masochist, sexual slave persona in which she is nothing more than Murata's plaything. The other persona is the queer, manipulative, cold and calculating, sadistic woman that I argue is the real personality she has held under the surface her entire life. I suggest that this sequence can be interpreted as a visual representation of the complicated relationship between queerness and Japanese society, one that has historically disapproved of homosexuality and explicit female sexuality since the introduction of Judeo-Christian belief systems.203 Although this scene seems to be placed within a safe girls-only realm of shÅjo seishun jidai, and interpreted as an expression of âappropriateâ queerness as accepted in Japanese society,204 I argue that, more importantly, it illustrates Mitsukoâs queer lust as something violent and villainous. This scene of masturbation can be connected to the queering of the Final Girl (and the killer/monster) as a muddled expression of inner turmoil and homophobia.205 As in the last 20 minutes of the film, Mitsuko admits to holding a deep desire to watch Taeko fall to her death, the juxtaposed images of her suffering with Mitsuko's sexual 203 Mark J. McLelland, Male Homosexuality in Modern Japan: Cultural Myths and Social Realities (Routledge, 2000). See also: Mark J. McLelland, âJapanâs Queer Cultures,â 2011. https://ro.uow.edu.au/artspapers/265. 204 Nelson, âJhorÄ ni okeru ikutsumo no,â 181â195. 205 Rebecca Willoughby, âWho Are We? Queering the Final Girlin Alexandre Ajaâs High Tension.â in Final Girls, Feminism and Popular Culture. Ed. Katarzyna Paszkiewicz and Stacy Rusnak (Palgrave Macmillan, 2020), 79â84. 67 pleasure â the light smile on her face as she comes down from her implied orgasm â are made so much more meaningful. Mitsuko's implied queer sexuality, as well as her rejection of it, coupled with her underlying violent tendencies, complicate her status as a Final Girl, bending her more into antagonist territory. Moreover, by including the audience in the intimate act of onanism from multiple angles and points of view, we can actively "participate in more traditional, heteronormative constructions of horror narrativesâ206ânarratives that typically objectify females for voyeurism while simultaneously punishing female sexuality. This punishment consists not only her act of self-harm as a reaction to Murataâs rejection, but also the subsequent heteronormative and abusive sexual relationship with him.207 I have paired these sequences for many reasons. Not only do they occur in the same space, Mitsukoâs bedroom, but also Mitsuko's visceral response to each event is noticeably similar, and both scenes contrast with images of Taeko's suffering. Mitsuko's expression throughout both scenes is one of pleasure interlaced with apathy as she slowly returns to her usual dead-eyed and emotionless state. However, this sequence of self-harm plays explicitly with the idea of Mitsuko absolving herself of responsibility for her actions as if Eiko herself is the catalyst for her self-harm. Previously, Eiko appeared to Mitsuko as an objectified and sexualized image, but, as demonstrated by this scene, she is also a catalyst of her violent tendencies. The connection between the two scenes highlights Eiko as a manifestation of self-pleasure and self-harm. Although grisly, Mitsuko's cutting of her wrist, similar to her earlier onanism, does appear to provide some sexual (if not simply regular) pleasure. This opening of the body, through sexual acts, violence, or both, disturbs the âintegrity of the corporeal subjectâ and breaks down the mundane of the everyday by demanding an awareness of the âvulnerability of the human 206 Willoughby, âWho Are We?â 89. 207 Forest, 00:41:43 â 00:43:25. 68 body.â208 As the skin and corporeal body are a marked object and a privilege, self-inflicted damage is seen as the ultimate societal rejection, effectively challenging what we deem ânormal.â209 More specifically, regarding a female body, this self-harm is also a rejection of objectified and standardised notions of female beauty. The image of Mitsuko as messy, impulsive, sexual, and emotional dismantles her previous performances of idealised Japanese femininity. 3.3.2 Frenzied, Fatalistic, Final After Mitsukoâs initial psychological âbreak,â a few small hints are scattered throughout the film of her real personality slipping through the cracks of her outward-facing mask. Although her outward appearance changes and no longer embodies an idealised (shÅjo) image, she maintains a chaotic but delicate composure. Represented through her dead-inside, emotionless, and apathetic attitude after beginning her tumultuous relationship with Murata, Mitsuko becomes increasingly indifferent to her own being and the world around her. This is solidified by her dazed state when Fukami, Jay, and Shin come to discuss Taeko's strange behaviour.210 Mitsukoâs messy hair frames her new glasses-less face; a light smirk dances across her lips as the three men stare on in disbelief; her short dress and tight cardigan are a great departure from her previously put-together and conservative attire. Mitsukoâs room is in a similar state of disarray, the childish shÅjo decor stuffed into clear trash bags, colourful bras and clothing strewn about. Shortly after, Mitsuko reveals that she has been sleeping with Murata, stripping down, and showing off the extensive scars and bruises scattered across her thin frame.211 Alarmed by this, the four meet 208 McPhee, Female Masochism, 56-7. 209 McPhee, Female Masochism, 73. 210 Forest, 00:56:04 â 00:57:18. 211 Forest, 1:00:35 â 1:03:53. 69 with Murata and Taeko, planning to confront him about his abusive behaviour. However, instead, Murata persuades them that the abuse is Mitsuko's choice (and she concurs with that statement), and that Taeko is also actively participating, welcoming Murataâs abuse. As evidence he makes her lift her shirt to reveal identical scars. The scene crescendos with a detached, prop-like Mitsuko drinking alcohol that Murata spits into her mouth and ends with a distraught Taeko running from the room.212 This is where Mitsuko becomes insignificant, a background character to be ignored, no longer displaying any clear personality or character development. Rather, she becomes a point of contrast for the perceived Japanese Final Girl, apparent protagonist and leading lady, Taeko, and her story. Taeko has been an important figure throughout the film and now becomes a focal point and the character the audience would potentially be rooting for to survive and win against Murata. That is until after the filmâs first scene of true ero-guro-nonsensu213 and the second crack in Mitsukoâs mask. Attempting to finish the film, Murata takes Jay, Shin, Taeko, and Mitsuko to an abandoned Western-style house deep in the forest. While in a rest-stop bathroom, Mitsuko excitedly declares to Taeko that she feels âso alive.â Taeko slowly opens the stall door, face full of concern and fear in contrast to Mitsukoâs wide-eyed and deranged expression.214 The shot repeatedly reverses between an over-the-shoulder of Mitsuko and Taeko, respectively, capturing their varying emotions as Mitsuko asks Taeko for a high five.215 Taeko weakly taps her hands on Mitsukoâs. Mitsuko demands that she âdo it harder,â relentlessly smacking Taekoâs hands as she 212 Forest, 1:06:32 and 1:09:25 respectively. 213Eroguro nansensu (ã¨ã­ã»ã°ã­ã»ãã³ã»ã³ã¹; in English, ero-guro nonsense) is a combination of the words âerotic,â âgrotesque,â and ânonsense.â As the term sounds, it is used to describe media/literature that combines elements of the erotic and grotesque in a way that is nonsensical but produces a very particular style. The term is often linked to prewar authors who specialised in bizarre fiction (what we may now deem as horror) like Edogawa Ranpo. 214 Forest, 01:27:16 â 01:28:28. 215 Forest, 01:27:58. 70 laughs giddily. Mitsuko returns her hands to her side and confides to Taeko that it seems she is pregnant with Murataâs child; Taekoâs face grows increasingly concerned. Mitsuko walks out of the shot, her expression returning to the dead-eyed smirk from her initial character change as she sticks out her tongue, gazing just away from the camera, singing âpregnant, pregnant, pregnantâ eerily.216 This scene functions to set up Mitsuko as the antagonist of, if not the entire film, at least Taekoâs Japanese Final Girl story. Her manipulative behaviour takes centre stage as it appears she only told Taeko this information to torture her, as previously Taeko had been trying to protect Mitsuko from Murataâs charismatic control. Mitsukoâs deranged state is also shown as part of her âmaskâ while facing others. The disturbing, overly positive demeanour is her enacting the idealised feminine, the woman who goes along with whatever society wants her to be and never complains. Her pregnancy is also a show of heteronormative power, as not only is she capable of creating new life, but she is fulfilling the designated patriarchal role of âmother,â albeit in a monstrous and frightening way. Yet, the female, as represented by Mitsukoâs character, is equally as capable of ending life as she is creating it, making her pregnancy that much more frightening. Shortly after this scene, Mitsuko strangles Jay to death, directed by Murata; it was meant to be faked and nothing more than a scene in their film. However, pure rage can be seen spilling over as Mitsuko, determined and delirious, watches the life leave his body. Only in the aftermath does she return to her fake persona, acting scared and confused that Jay is truly dead, as Murata berates her for killing him. The following gory sequence maintains Taeko as the Final Girl and protagonist, as she watches on in horror, refusing to participate as Shin and Mitsuko wordlessly and methodically cut, blend, and dump Jayâs remains. Taeko is the one the camera turns towards 216 Forest, 01:28:19. 71 to seek the appropriate responses to Jay's death and the one whose genuine emotions the viewer gets to see in full. The focus on Taeko's emotionality, in contrast to Mitsuko's lack thereof, keeps Mitsuko in the background. Mitsuko's willingness to participate in the violence and the continual maintenance of her outward mask of obedience starkly contrast with Taeko's refusal. However, coupled with the last sequence of the film, not only do all the cracks in Mitsukoâs fake persona allude to her having a ârealâ one, but they also demonstrate her readiness to, like an actress, create a specific image of herself for an audition or part as desired by society. Mitsuko, unlike Taeko, can change herself to suit her environment better; she is enacting "variations on a feminine ideal to be awarded a high position in society."217 That higher position is one of control and power of her own free will. The last 22 minutes of the film are oddly scream-free for a horror film, and there is no chase, no dramatic fighting of the monster, or even the victory of our Japanese Final Girl. However, the lengthy sequence of Mitsuko's pre-death revenge illuminates that she is the filmâs Final Girl.218 "I am far worse than all of you,"219 she declares in a feverish and powerful tone, almost yelling, eyes wide and face filled with determination, "I am the worst woman."220 She explains that she purposely did not commit suicide in high school and is not a virgin, having slept with all her friend's and sisterâs boyfriends. She reveals that she knew that Murata was a con artist and Shin was a serial killer from the beginning and had hoped they would kill Taeko, her parents, and her sister. She details her hatred for Taeko, who stole her Romeo away from her, and how relieved she was when Eiko (Romeo) died, as now she could be her tool for masturbation, hers exclusively. The letter reading sequence is interlaced with visceral images of 217 Hemmann, âFearsome Femininity,â 109-120. 218 Forest, 2:11:04 â 2:18:25. 219 Original dialogue: ãç§ãå°¾æ²¢ç¾æ´¥å­ã¯ãããªãæ¹ã®æ°åæªãå¥³ã§ããã 220 Original dialogue: ãç§ã¯ä¸çªæªãå¥³ã ã 72 Mitsuko's past, such as Eiko's death, Taeko and Eiko's intimacy, and Mitsuko having sex with different men. The image of Mitsuko losing her virginity at 16 is visualised as Mitsuko in her family's entryway, naked and covered in blood, arms outstretched, laughing maniacally.221 âWhy do men like virgins so much?!â222 she exclaims as Murata looks on in horror. Shin's face, too, turns sour as Mitsuko admits she has been waiting for him to kill her. Looking at the current analysis, until her final reveal, Mitsuko was the standard horror film victim, a woman with trauma who is an easy target for Murata's cons and abuse in her already vulnerable state. Indeed, her graphic torture, scars, and bruises223, along with her continued expressions of apathy and lack of response to each subsequent escalation of the trauma of her situation, suggest victimisation. Moreover, up until the aftermath of the sequence of self-harm, Mitsuko is seen in modest, loose-fitting dresses, feminine shirts, floral patterns, and light colours. This combination paints her character as traditional, virginal, naive, and demure. Combined with her room's decor, this also gives her current existence a youthful, shÅjo atmosphere. This changes after her relationship with Murata as she begins to sport shorter, tighter clothing in various colours but devoid of patterns. Importantly, however, is the maintenance of the overall lightness of her wardrobe; she also still wears the odd long skirt and is still less revealing in contrast to Taeko's short blue hair and original black, leather, revealing, punk-rock attire, and also in contrast to her sister Amiâs tight clothes and short skirts. In this way, the film sets up Taeko as the Japanese Final Girl, as she fits the traditional characteristics of the strong, independent, smart, and not outwardly feminine heroine. 221 Forest, 02:16:19. 222 Original dialogue: ãä½ã§ç·ã¯ã¿ããªãã¼ã¸ã³ãå¥½ããªãã§ããã 223 Forest, 01:00:53 â 01:03:50. As showcased in the scene in Jay and Fukamiâs warehouse home. 73 3.4 The Sono Girl: Mitsuko Since she does not survive the film, Mitsuko as a Japanese Final Girl defeats the entire purpose of the âfinalâ in her title. Moreover, she spends over half of the film as a passive, prop-like supporting character, nothing more than a plot driver for Taeko and, more importantly, Murataâs story. Appearing to be nothing more than an image of the patriarchy's idealised feminine, Mitsuko serves to contrast Taekoâs blatant refusal of any societal standard put upon her. However, Mitsuko undergoes a total transformation by the end of the film as her previous emotional unavailability and stoic dead-inside attitude culminates into an explosive release of the burdens placed on her by society to maintain her composure (ideal feminine). This explosion demonstrates a queering of our expectations of the Final Girl/antagonist (killer) dichotomy, highlights the classic Final Girl as compatible with existing Japanese horror motifs and themes, and challenges the social value systems ascribed to the feminine. Yet, contradictorily, Mitsuko, the Japanese Final Girl, is not a standout character like Cloverâs Final Girl. She is bland, demonstrates no visible personality, wears modest beige clothing, and spends most of the film as a supporting character in the background. Mitsuko's role is that of a prop, existing passively for the pleasure of the male gaze, and is nothing more than a toy for the antagonist, Murata, a vessel for the sympathy of the other male characters and Taeko, and a point of shame for her own controlling father. This portrayal of Mitsukoâs style of femininity is, of course, an exaggeration, yet it disturbingly finds a home in what would be considered idealised by Japanese society. This prior presentation is then subverted with Mitsukoâs 180-degree transformation within the film's last 22 minutes. This is where her previous behaviour begins to make sense, highlighting her as a true Final Girl and alluding to Sonoâs critiques of the gendered anxieties within and stagnation of Japanâs patriarchal society. 74 Until the end of the film, Mitsuko demonstrates an incredible amount of control; her ability to remain docile and virtually silent as the film gets progressively graphic, frenzied, and nonsensical shows her composure, determination, and ability to manipulate the expectations of others. In maintaining her passive demeanour, she also contrasts the events unfolding around her and adds to their disturbing nature, especially when considering characters like Taeko and Jayâs visible and justified reactions. For example, pseudo-Final Girl Taeko acts as an emotional touchstone for the audience, exhibiting what one would interpret as appropriate responses to her situation as represented in the scenes of her praying (for Mitsukoâs wellbeing), shutting down in conversation, and screaming in frustration when alone. Taeko repeatedly demonstrates selflessness and a martyr-like attitude throughout the film in her attempt to protect Mitsuko from Murata (the patriarchy) regardless of her own well-being. Compared to Mitsuko's emotional unavailability, stoic dead-inside attitude, and selfishness, this brings forth images of the real pressures women within Japanese society face daily. Mitsukoâs sudden transformation at the film's end represents a release of all the societal pressures put upon her to maintain her idealised femininity. Taeko, on the other hand, is a character who actively rejects societal standards from the beginning and succumbs to the pressure, unable to hold in her emotions even in the face of death. The fact that her attempt to escape the forces ranged against her is unsuccessful shows the inexorable strength of those forces. Conversely, Mitsuko is able to convince everyone around her that she is not a threat. She hides her true personality, motives, and vast understanding of the systems in which she exists. Her ending soliloquy is impassioned, frenetic, and a clear acknowledgement of her behaviour throughout the film as an act, nothing more than a mask she wore to achieve her goals. By having the Japanese Final Girl and other female characters represented in this way, Sono presents an alternative to traditional representations of Japanese 75 femininity in contemporary media. The result is twofold, as he critiques the horror genreâs typical presentation of female characters and challenges the sociocultural value systems that relentlessly place unrealistic pressures on females in Japan. Therefore, The Forest of Loveâs presentation of femininity and the female body provides both alternatives to the societal standard and subverts (or queers) classic horror tropes in a way that facilitates discourse regarding female representation in film and the sociocultural context. Mitsukoâs room is an excellent representation of an adult woman stuck in the idealised feminine, adorned with predominantly Victorian-style decor, a metaphorical hermetically sealed vacuum of shÅjo imagery.224 Mitsuko, who is 25 years old, is presented as having a hyper-fixation of maintaining a state of prepubescence and suggests a kind of self-infantilisation that alludes to a level of purity. Yet, this exact space is where we focus on her onanism; the contrast of her sexuality with the childlike space of her room accurately displays the contradictions most prevalent in the image of the shÅjo. However, Mitsuko, as a Japanese Final Girl, embodies the double standard of âdoing it all.â Perfectly fitting the Japanese Final Girlâs modus operandi, Mitsuko is both presexual and hypersexual, a virgin, yet seductive, and innocent, but highly dangerous. Mitsukoâs manipulations and two-faced behaviour demonstrate the possibility of maintaining the two contradictory performances, but not without consequence. Sono does not represent this possibility as a positive trait, as this duality proves fatal for Mitsuko after she reveals her true self. Shin and Murata, as representatives of the patriarchy, are disgusted that their perceptions of her as the ideal feminine were wrong. It is in this moment, when everyone drops the âactâ of their outward-facing mask, a moment of honesty and genuine personality, that neither Shin nor Murata are interested in Mitsuko as a person; she becomes just something else 224 This imagery like that mentioned in Chapter Two, is discussed by Lunning in regard to the Rococo-style Victorian clothing and scenery of early shÅjo manga. 76 in the way of their goals. The (supposedly) manipulable woman willing to âplay alongâ is gone, and if the patriarchy cannot use her to their advantage, her existence becomes nothing more than an inconvenience. The subversive insertion of a Japanese Final Girl as the filmâs last-minute protagonist suggests a cyclical existence doomed to repeat if she continues to survive her film. This makes the death of the Japanese Final Girl integral to forcing change in Japanese society regarding gender dynamics and unrealistic expectations. With this specific trait in mind, I would like to pinpoint the traits that make up the Japanese Final Girl that have the most continuity within Sonoâs films. Sonoâs films often contain depictions of cyclical chaos broken by the main female protagonist, but always at the cost of a value system typically associated with patriarchal societal ideals. Focusing on the disintegration of Japanese society and the nuclear family, I argue that Sono places particular critique on the societal pressures that are toxic to the feminine. For example, Mitsuko is pressured by her family to maintain her âpureâ form, and is pressured by Taeko to give up her virginity. These opposing pressures portray the two sides of a society that desires women to have a hypocritical âpure and innocent sexuality.â225 This arguably is what causes her psychological âbreak,â as the crushing weight of the expectations of what it means to be female convinces Mitsuko that she truly is âthe worst womanâ as she is unable to be neither pure nor sexual enough. The Japanese Final Girl shows qualities and characteristics similar to the standard female villains and antagonists, which grounds her within Japanese horror conventions. These more common tropes, like the Dead Wet Girl, the âirresponsible (single) mother,â and the âfemale 225 Lunning, âUnder the Ruffles,â 8-10. 77 ghost,â are also representations of idealised femininity gone rancid as they bring the rest of Japanese society down with them. To reiterate, Mitsukoâs docile and reserved demeanour, masochistic tendencies, and naivety, coupled with her characterisation as a toy and object of desire to be used and then thrown away at the convenience of men, all make her out to be the classic victim and plot driver for the Final Girlâs story. Initially, Mitsuko represents the idealised feminine and what would be considered the opposite of a Final Girl. The viewer expects Taekoâthe quintessential rejection of said idealised (Japanese) femininity and the one who follows Cloverâs definition most closelyâto be the Final Girl and protagonist. Due to the filmâs constant shifting of protagonists from Mitsuko to Taeko to Murata and back to Mitsuko, the audience is forced to question what they know of and who they know as the Final Girl and the antagonist. Yet a few characteristics make Mitsuko different from the classic Final Girl. For example, she is hardly virginal and is available, actively seeking out relationships and sexual encounters (with men). She is quiet and overtly feminine and would, from the outside at least, seem like the ideal Japanese woman. This makes her an interesting final encounter for our male antagonist(s), as she can fool him with her outside appearance and ability to manipulate the status quo. The Japanese Final Girlâs non-traditional, powerful, and queer subversion of the expectations placed upon her by society results in a subversive villainous transformation. Although the Japanese Final Girl is not always a villain, she is always something to fear from the perspective of the patriarchy. In combination with her representation throughout the film, Mitsuko's final reveal subverts Cloverâs Final Girl standards as well as contemporary renditions. The subversions include Mitsuko's manipulative and calculating intellect, her independent, queer, and sexually free masochistic tendencies, and her desire for death. The film also depicts multiple instances of Final Girl-type characters. It is possible to suspect that Taeko was a clever diversion as her 78 strong-headed demeanour, tomboy styling, and sexual resistance throughout the film are more classically Final Girl traits. At the same time, this allowed the further subversion of audience expectations as Mitsuko and Eiko become the filmâs real (antagonistic) Final Girls. Though none of these characters survive the film, they act to break the cycle of violence that has plagued the film's universe and challenge the monster's understanding of victims and their object position. All three female leads in this film actively display power over our main male antagonists in a way that can only be ascribed to a Final Girl. There is more to the Final Girl trope in this film than a diversion from the original characteristics. The Japanese Final Girls, like the Final Girls in other international films discussed in Chapter One, are a product of their cultural positioning. One of the classic Final Girl's integral traits in this context is her subversive and malleable nature; in other words, her ability to be tailored to a culturally specific context that is adequately comprehensible to any audience. Let us consider Mitsuko's dualistic behaviour as a subversion of idealised Japanese femininity, an embrace of female masochism, and as her active manipulation of societal expectations to pursue desire. Her existence as an antagonistic Japanese Final Girl â[d]ismantle[s] and reconfigure[s] normative oppositional categories such as active and passive, subject and object, perpetrator and victim,â226 as is discussed by McPhee regarding female masochism. Mitsuko, and therefore the Japanese Final Girl, becomes something to fear as an active threat to the patriarchy and its visions of femininity. Mitsuko is not a victim but instead willfully seeks the pleasures of pain and practises the subversive control that âreconfigures networks of corporeal and sociocultural power.â227 In contrast to Cloverâs Final Girl, the 226 McPhee, Female Masochism, 54. 227 McPhee, Female Masochism, 28. 79 Japanese Final Girlâs purpose within these spaces is not necessarily to beat the monster or villain but rather to become the monster. The Japanese Final Girl is horrifying, disturbed, emotionally volatile, and unpredictable. However, I believe she is still the âvictim-heroâ of the film. Even in the most unconventional way possible, Sonoâs Mitsuko becomes the filmâs heroine through her dramatic reveal. This heroic behaviour is discrete, but I argue that this makes it even closer to embodying Cloverâs original meaning of âvictim-hero.â The female masochist and antagonist Japanese Final Girl is tortured but no longer a survivor. Rather, she chooses to illuminate an understanding of the social pressures of femininity through a violent reckoning that ends in her untimely death as a way to prove her point one final time. 3.5 The Villain Always Dies, or Does (S)he? As my goal in defining the Japanese Final Girl is to pinpoint her qualities, I would like to re-emphasise Cloverâs spotlighting of the Final Girl as a âTortured Survivorâ and a âVictim Hero,â as stated in the updated version of Chain Saws. The sequences discussed set up Mitsuko first as a victim, showcasing her suffering in a voyeuristic and explicit way. Even within the scenes of onanism, for example, it would seem as if she were not suffering; but I argue that we can view her self-pleasure as a violent act as she continues to revisit the traumatic events of her schoolgirl days while doing so. Therefore, although Mitsuko is initially presented in this way, the scenes I have highlighted above demonstrate her ability to commit acts of violence when triggered, which compounds her later antagonistic and villainous behaviours. This is where I would like to highlight the Japanese Final Girl, rather than a heroine, as an antagonist; the suffering she goes through is a catalyst event or âvillain origin story.â 80 While a masculinized subject to be identified with, Cloverâs Final Girl is also an object to be desired. As the monstrous and the feminine are both often placed into the realm of the abject, as Stagier argues within her essay refuting some of Cloverâs original points, the Final Girl becomes ânon-normal, a monster and, while adult, contradictorily also associated with the abject, the other side of ânow,â a terrible place of loss and death.â228 The Japanese Final Girl and Final Girl alike are both representations of the feminine as wielding power and potential far beyond what is imaginable by their male counterparts. Not only do females hold the power to create life itself, but as is demonstrated with the Final Girl, they have just as much power to take it away. The Japanese Final Girl leaves a trail of bodies in her path and becomes the epitome of a âterrible place of loss and death,â a violent monster to be abjected. This abjection is one of the evident traits of Mitsuko in The Forest of Love. She firstly takes her place as the abject, an object and nothing more than a toy for those around her; she is unimportant and desirable for her obedience and complacent attitude. She maintains this status throughout the film by being present but not too loud; she is a prop and a vessel for driving the plot. Her story is not hers but that of the other characters around her. Having volition and active free will is a classic trait of the Final Girl, and only in the end do we, the audience and characters, realise that Mitsuko had that volition all along. She purposely took on the abject role, maintaining her object status to manipulate those around her, keeping them oblivious to her true purpose. This demonstrates that the concept, images, and traits of idealised Japanese femininity â specifically the demure, soft-spoken, submissive, and overtly feminine type â can be an act and a cover for autonomy and is understandably frightening to a society that relies on this concept to maintain control. Mitsuko's dramatic shift in the last 22 228 Janet Staiger, âThe Slasher, the Final Girl and the Anti-Denouement.â in Style & Form in the Hollywood Slasher Film, ed. Wickham Clayton (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan), 2015, 213â228. 81 minutes of the film demonstrates the anxiety "concerning the deterioration of the image of demure femininity in Japan."229 Her character presents a Japanese Final Girl who can become a monster and the film's antagonist. This hidden behaviour leads Mitsuko into Final Girl territory, as intelligence is another of her main traits, yet simultaneously, the manipulative nature of her actions suggests that she is an antagonist and Final Girl. Mitsukoâs innate cold-bloodedness, lack of empathy, and calculating nature aligns her with the filmâs original villains. The patriarchy, for which Shin and Murataâs characters are stand-ins, attempts to take back control by killing her, but they are only giving in to what she wants, falling into her fatalist trap. Here, rather than having to make the distinction between monster and Final Girl, they can be one and the same. Ultimately, the male leads are objectified, manipulable, feminised, powerless, and abjected. By acknowledging Mitsuko's character as a Final Girl-type monster at the end of the film, her final resistance in the face of death can be interpreted as a âviolent reaction to the pressures of the patriarchal and heteronormative societyâ that confines her.230 She quickly subverts ingrained cultural expectations and uses them to her advantage, aware that others, particularly men, are more than willing to accept the persona she has constructed to survive. Mitsuko's final scene demonstrates how âculturally constructed and artificialâ231 idealised femininity is. By playing the demure, soft-spoken, inexperienced, and submissive role she knows others expect of her, she can control their behaviour to get what she wants. Mitsuko's Japanese Final Girl represents those who present an idealised image, like an actress on screen, who are secretly âsexually free and socially irresponsible young womenâ232 who actively seek out their 229 Hemmann, âFearsome Femininity,â 110. 230 Willoughby, âWho Are We?â 86. 231 McPhee, Female Masochism, 34. 232 Hemmann, âFearsome Femininity,â 117. 82 desires and wield power and control. Any female can blossom into a Final Girl capable of committing great acts of violence of her own free will, and she does not have to resemble those who outwardly present their rebellion like Taeko. This realisation that the idealised female form is artificial dismantles any preconceived notion and illuminates the women who represent these qualities as the ones society should have feared all along. However, this display of independent behaviour, sexual freedom, and uncontrolled feminine power could never go unpunished by a patriarchal society. In U.S. slasher cinema, the Final Girl is pushed back into the heteronormative box of the gender binary, stripped of her borrowed phallic power and weaponry, and re-coded as an âaccepted formâ of damsel saved by a male character, leaving the audience satisfied that the gender norm has been rebalanced. By contrast, Sono's Japanese Final Girl must die to satisfy the expected norms. The Final Girlâs demonstration of power is too strong, and if not eliminated, she will continue to wreak havoc on society. The death of the Japanese Final Girl means that she can no longer serve the patriarchy. The disintegration of her once idealised image is the biggest fear she represents; the Final Girl that once resonated with a male audience and found power in the phallic finds power in the female. The Japanese Final Girl is independent and wields overwhelming willpower, the unwillingness to conform resting below the surface of her perfected mask. She represents young adults, particularly women, who cannot meet the standards of their parents or society and choose to present a conforming image on the surface but long to live life as they please. The dismantling and segregating of the body that comes with hiding oneâs true identity to keep up with societal expectations leads to chaos. That which has existed under the surface, hidden in the face of others, slowly boils over, shockingly and unexpectedly, into self-obliteration. Sono focuses on 83 the challenging and queering of value systems, a critique of Japanese society as something already broken enough to crack and disintegrate at the slightest deviance from the norm. 3.6 Conclusion This thesis aimed to determine whether the Final Girl theory can be effectively applied to Japanese horror cinema. In highlighting the classic Final Girl as gendered iconography, I have suggested that there is indeed a Japanese Final Girl that addresses how the Japanese patriarchy views the feminine. This can also be compared to Cloverâs Final Girl, who, in contrast, plays into patriarchy. Based on this analysis, the Japanese Final Girl is positioned within Sonoâs film as an antagonistic trope (like those already familiar in the genre) that actively opposes the social value systems. The Japanese Final Girl can be represented as ideal. However, she betrays societyâs expectations by revealing herself by the filmâs end as opposing, or embodying the opposite of, their desired version of womanhood. Moreover, if we look at media as informing the perspectives of the general public, then Sono is highlighting the female as necessitating a dismantling of outdated gender systems. However, even if Sonoâs films demonstrate the Japanese Final Girl and female antagonists as something to be feared, it is still within the more extensive commentary of the female as a potential source of a âlawful evilâ that could lead to visible societal change. Sonoâs Japanese Final Girl is correlated to other international and contemporary versions of the trope. As Paszkiewicz and Rusnak argue in their book, the Final Girl is created directly in response to the sociopolitical backdrop of her existence and her manifestations are attributed to contemporary society's sociocultural and political contexts.233 Therefore, even if Sonoâs 233 Paszkiewicz and Rusnak, Final Girls, 3. 84 reimagining is only fractionally comparable to the classic Final Girl, she is altered in a way that results from horrorâs shifting approach to an intersection of characteristics such as gender, race, and sexuality. The Final Girl trope at hand is a fluid character without a set place or appearance and does not abide by restrictive societal binaries or norms. She is no longer specifically a virgin, White, boyish, or straight. Nor does she become phallicised or abjected in her eventual pursuit of her aggressor. Most importantly, the Final Girl finds a home in Japanese horror, resonating with the genreâs traditional antagonistic female tropes. This then connects to my second goal within this thesis of bringing the Final Girl theory to Japanese studies in a way that can determine what an analysis of horror can provide to the discourse on Japanese sociocultural issues. The Japanese Final Girlâs debut deconstructs the horror filmâs villain/victim dichotomy, a powerful reflection of Japanese societyâs view of independent or alternatively feminine women as a source of fear, chaos, and destruction. Those who choose to strip themselves from societyâs image of the idealised feminine are regarded as harming Japanâs integrity.234 This effectively opens up new avenues of discourse that include the Final Girl within the tropes of Japanese horror to create a meaningful sociocultural analysis beyond what is currently available in scholarship. I have argued that the Final Girl can illuminate prominent contemporary issues faced by Japanese society and, in turn, contribute to Japanese horror scholarship to offer a consideration of Final Girls and the Final Girl theory. 234 There have been multiple incidents of Japanese law makers/ politicians/ CEOs etc. making such remarks, even as recently as 2018. Some highlight single women as the root of issues like shÅshika, often placing emphasis on their child-free status as harming the economy. It also appears that verbal sexual harassment utilizes child rearing and marriage as a personal attack, suggesting that women are a burden if not pursuing the housewife lifestyle. Ty Lawson, âMP says single women in Japan âburden on the state.â CGTN, May 12, 2018. https://news.cgtn.com/news/3d3d414e3149444e77457a6333566d54/share_p.html âJapan lawmaker admits to sexist remark.â BBC News, June 23, 2014. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-27971062 85 In this thesis, I have shown how the images of the female masochist Japanese Final Girl and the feminine as a fearsome expression of female individuality demonstrate Japan's anxieties during the post-bubble economic crisis concerning the quickly transforming gender and class-based social value systems. I have showcased how horror films âtouch upon fears that run âdeeperâ than most socio-historical analyses can excavate and provide a barometer for emerging cultural climates.â235 Sonoâs depiction of the dissecting of the male body by female characters in The Forest of Love, in particular, represents the threat to traditional notions of masculinity in Japan, as the âsocially respected white-collar man become[s] impotent.â 236 In most Sono films, the father, the stereotype of the âexcessively overworked Japanese male pressured to achieve material success amid a lingering economic recession,â contrasts with the successful criminal and the more powerful female. 237 The typical and idealised Japanese family is disrupted and transformed in society and is adequately represented as âdeadening socio-cultural systems and ideological continuitiesâ that âstifle the potential for meaningful, or even necessary, modificationâ 238âa modification that, for Sono, happens via the female as he creates female protagonists that have an innocent and uncontrollable power that is painted as something for men to fear. Yet, with male directors not being held accountable for their actions in real life, I wonder just how catastrophic and fatalistic a Japanese Final Girl is required to make lasting, visible change within Japanese society and the entertainment structures that exploit women. The reality is women are exploited, tortured, and dismembered onscreen for presumed male entertainment. Not only this, but in real life women face daily pressure to perform an idealised image. The 235 McRoy, Nightmare Japan, 190. 236 McRoy, Nightmare Japan, 32. 237 McRoy, Nightmare Japan, 182. 238 McRoy, Nightmare Japan, 158. 86 consequences of failing to do so are either that women become the abject monster society fears them to be or they engage in willful self-destruction. The unhealed wounds created by attempting to maintain an idealised image run deeper than the superficial skin; they run through the veins of society, permeating the central nervous systems and creating a toxic internalised self-hatred that leaks through the haphazardly placed stitches of government regulations, bylaws, and acts. The queer, fatalistic, and independent Japanese Final Girl that the patriarchy fears, a monster of their own making, is a stark reminder of the impending catastrophic reckoning. The only solution is to seal the wound, to create a scar and move forward. 87 Bibliography Acevedo, Yoselin. ââAnti-Pornoâ Trailer: Japanese Director Sion Sono Returns with a Feminist Take on Sexuality.â Indie Wire, 2017. Balmain, Colette. Introduction to Japanese Horror Film. Edinburgh University Press, 2008. Brown, Steven T. Japanese Horror and the Transnational Cinema of Sensations. Palgrave Macmillan, 2018. Bullock, Julia C., Ayako Kano, James Welker. Rethinking Japanese Feminisms. 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Ju-On (åªæ¨). Tokyo Theaters Company, 2003. 92 minutes. ---. Reincarnation (rinâne 輪廻). Toho Co., Ltd., 2005. 95 minutes. Sono Sion, director åå­æ¸©ç£ç£. Antiporno (anchiporuno ã¢ã³ããã«ã). Nikkatsu, 2016. 76 minutes. ---. Cold Fish (tsumetai nettaigyo å·ããç±å¸¯é­). Nikkatsu, 2010. 146 minutes. ---. Extensions (ekusute ã¨ã¯ã¹ã). Toei Productions, 2007. 108 minutes. ---. The Forest of Love (ainaki mori de sakebe æãªãæ£®ã§å«ã¹). Netflix, 2019. 152 minutes. ---. Guilty of Romance (koi no tsumi æã®ç½ª). Nikkatsu, 2011. 144 minutes. 96 ---. I am Sono Sion!! (ore was ono sion da ä¿ºã¯åå­æ¸©ã !!). 1985. 35 minutes. ---. Love Exposure (ai no mukidashi æã®ããã ã). Phantom Film, 2008. 237 minutes. ---. A Manâs Flower Road (otoko no hanamachi ç·ã®è±é). 1987. 110 minutes. ---. Suicide Club (jisatsu sakuru èªæ®ºãµã¼ã¯ã«). Asuraizu ã¢ã¼ã¹ã©ã¤ãº, 2002. 99 minutes. ---. Why Donât You Play in Hell? (jigoku de naze warui å°çã§ãªãæªã). King Records, 2013. 129 minutes.
Thesis/Dissertation
eng
Asian Studies
Vancouver : University of British Columbia Library
Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International
Graduate
Orbaugh, Sharalyn
Laird, Colleen
I am the worst woman : the disintegration of the idealised feminine and the final girl in The forest of love
Text