Serpent’s Path: Japanese Cult Movie to Taut French Thriller

Serpent's Path

Serpent’s Path Rating

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Director Kiyoshi Kurosawa takes a second shot at ‘Hebi no michi,’ his 1998 Japanese V-Cinema movie. Here, Kurosawa steps away from Japan’s criminal underbelly, remaking his film in Paris, as a predominately French-language thriller.

Back in 1998, Kiyoshi Kurosawa (no relation to the legendary Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa) made V-Cinema movies as quickly as Roger Corman used to make horror films. Most were straight-to-video, some had a limited theatrical release. V-Cinema usually meant low-budget action: bullets, explosions, crime stories and thrill rides.

‘Hebi no michi’ was dark and contemplative. Two men, Miyashita and Nijima, were hellbent on revenge. Carving a bloody swathe through everyone Miyashita held responsible for the brutal murder of his daughter.

The original 1998 Japanese movie, starring Teruyuki Kagawa as Miyashita and V-Cinema legend Show Aikawa as Nijima, rapidly gained cult status.

French cinemagoers have developed a taste for director Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s movies. He has twice won the Cannes Film Festival’s Un Certain Regard prize, for ‘Tokyo Sonata’ in 2008, and for ‘Journey to the Shore’ in 2015.

His international reputation was cemented in 2020 when his film, ‘Wife of a Spy,’ won the Silver Lion for Best Director at the Venice International Film Festival.

Given the opportunity to remake one of his earlier movies in France, Kurosawa jumped at the chance, immediately choosing ‘Hebi no michi,’ ‘Serpent’s Path.’

‘Serpent’s Path,’ ‘La Voie du serpent,’ 2024, updates and makes a number of subtle but effective changes.

Kô Shibasaki (Battle Royale; 47 Ronin; The Boy and the Heron) and Damien Bonnard (Les Misérables; Poor Things; The French Dispatch) star in this taut and brilliant thriller.

 

 

Damien Bonnard takes the role of Albert Bacheret. The original’s Miyashita was ex-Yakuza. Part of Japan’s criminal underworld. Here, Bacheret is a bumbling, grieving father. He shambles, broken and hurting but unstoppable.

Kô Shibasaki as Sayoko Mijima holds every frame she appears in. Mijima’s stillness is in marked contrast to the stumbling Bacheret. Mijima is a psychiatrist rather than the original’s schoolteacher. As the movie’s mysteries are revealed one by one, Mijima keeps her secrets.

Shibasaki and Bonnard are ably supported by a cast of French character actors including Mathieu Amalric (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly; The Grand Budapest Hotel; Quantum of Solace) and Grégoire Colin (The Dreamlife of Angels; The Vourdalak).

Kurosawa shifts the story from Japan’s criminal underworld to the dark side of European charitable organisations. Anonymous foundations, with secretive inner circles. Wider conspiracies that hide unspeakable crimes.

‘Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves’ was originally a Japanese proverb.

In Serpent’s Path, you need to dig half a graveyard to bury the dead. The first act of abduction, dehumanisation and revenge rapidly spirals as deeper secrets are uncovered and the body count rises.

Is anyone telling the truth? Are they lying and pointing fingers to shift blame and save their own skin?

Serpent’s Path winds left and right, zigzagging as you follow the clues, the confessions and the trail of the dead.

Avoid spoilers, buy tickets and immerse yourself in this razor-sharp thriller.

To book tickets to Serpent’s Path, please visit https://japanesefilmfestival.net/film/serpents-path/.

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Cloud

Cloud

Cloud Rating

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3

Premiering out of competition at the 2024 Venice International Film Festival, Cloud is a slow-burning psychological thriller that peels back the digital veneer of modern ambition and exposes the hollow desperation that simmers underneath. Directed with icy precision and a haunting visual stillness, this unsettling Japanese film follows Yoshii, an online reseller whose brush with success begins a descent into paranoia, deception, and vengeance.

Yoshii, scraping by reselling goods on the internet, stumbles upon a too-good-to-be-true deal—a medical machine bought for next to nothing and resold at a massive profit. High on this first big taste of victory, he quits his job, distances himself from his one close friend (also in the reseller game, but far less lucky), and relocates to a quiet lakefront house in the countryside with his girlfriend, setting up shop in near isolation. He hires a seemingly naive local villager as his assistant—but from the outset, nothing in Cloud is what it seems.

With its brooding and sparse score and long, languid shots, the film establishes a pervasive sense of unease. Yoshii is visibly on edge, hiding behind a pseudonym online, self proclaiming to be unsure if what he’s selling is even legitimate. The rural calm quickly gives way to dread: an object hurled through his window in the dead of night, a police investigation into counterfeit sales, and whispers of betrayal ripple through the tension-soaked air.

 

 

As the walls close in, Cloud deftly shifts between psychological suspense and social commentary. The internet, a tool for connection and entrepreneurship, becomes instead a breeding ground for fraud, resentment, and faceless revenge. Reviewers accuse Yoshii of being a crook, and dark forces gather—literally. An online mob forms, headed by none other than his estranged old friend, each member with a personal vendetta.

The film’s third act spirals into violent chaos. Yoshii, blind to the consequences of his opportunism, is eventually kidnapped and nearly executed in a live-streamed act of vengeance—only to be saved by his assistant, revealed to have a shadowy past in organized crime. The girlfriend, the assistant, the friend—each character has been complicit in a shared unraveling, a reckoning born not just of greed, but of modern alienation and rage.

Director, Kiyoshi Kurosawa, doesn’t offer clean moral judgments, nor easy redemption. Instead, Cloud paints a murky portrait of a world where ambition overrides empathy, and where digital anonymity can turn ordinary people into victims—or monsters. What starts as a tale of a hustle ends as a chilling parable about the cost of chasing success in an economy built on illusion.

To book tickets to Cloud, please visit https://japanesefilmfestival.net/film/cloud/.

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Bushidō

Bushido

Bushido Rating

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TW: The movie represents violence, sexual references, blood and has other trigger warnings. This review will not.

Amid the blooming Sakura trees, a Samurai and his daughter are trying to make their way in the world. Cast out from their hometown, they live a poor but honest life. We see our Samurai, Kakunoshin Yanagida, teaching others to play Go, carving personalised signature stamps (hanko) and negotiating to extend the date for his already late rent. We are witnesses to his life changing its course when he intercedes on behalf of a pawn shop owner in conflict with another samurai. This pawn shop owner becomes an important player in the story as an avid Go player, and an unofficial student of Kakunoshin Yanagida, learning to be an honourable man.

The story of Kakunoshin Yanagida is a Japanese drama, set in the Edo period. The set designs are elegant, transformative, and perfectly suited for the era. The lighting has been carefully chosen for each scene, drawing the audience in with each slight shifting of mood. In a moment towards the end of the movie, we are treated to a backdrop of a breathtaking, glimmering sunset before the set morphs into a thoughtful, candlelit space. With shoji screens and doors assisting the lighting throughout, adding layers of complexity as well as being used by the characters to give the audience some insight into their inner thoughts, the space and lighting feel as though they have been created and used with care and consideration.

 

 

I will admit I am no expert on Japanese clothing, but I could tell the kimonos in Bushidō were each carefully considered for every scene. For example, if a character were feeling helpless, or as though misfortune were on their doorstep, we would see them wearing dark colours, as opposed to their previously brighter fabrics. The glimpse we get to see of women discussing their kimonos was with the utmost respect for the garment, and it was not expressively mentioned, but Kakunoshin Yanagida’s own outfits are clean and well cared for, as are his swords. Of which we only see unsheathed when it is absolutely necessary.

The camera work brings the story to life, with a variety of techniques to keep the story alive and thriving. With shaky vintage filters to represent memories, an impressive use of blurring during the scene, and some heart-wrenching still moments, the camera guides us through the story with ease. There was never a moment when I found myself feeling overwhelmed by what was on the screen, or wondering where I was supposed to be looking. My personal favourite was a sideways tracking shot, overflowing with top-quality choreography.

Kakunoshin Yanagida might be poor, but he is striving to live his life as honourably as he can, while playing Go fair and square. He is a man of great self-control, but of course what’s a movie without some conflict? When we are treated to the conflicting moments in the movie, Kakunoshin Yanagida transforms into another person, filling the screen with his presence and emotion. I won’t give away too much, but he becomes vengeance, fulfilling his destiny.

Bushidō is a tale of revenge, family, and honour. It is as intense as it is gentle, as brash as it is thoughtful, and as hateful as it is filled with love. The story is a slow burn, but once it has lit, be prepared for a rollercoaster of a journey.

To book tickets to Bushido, please visit https://japanesefilmfestival.net/film/bushido/.

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The Life Apart

The Life Apart (Italian Film Festival)

The Life Apart (Italian Film Festival) Rating

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4

The Life Apart is everything aficionados of European cinema long for — poetic obscurity, powerful performances, and cinematography so lush you want to step inside the frame. Paired with a hauntingly beautiful classical score, it delivers a sensory experience that lingers long after the final credits roll.

Set against the backdrop of an elegant Italian palazzo, the film captures the glamour and quiet dysfunction of bourgeois family life. The story begins with joy: the long-awaited arrival of a baby to a seemingly perfect couple — a striking, Penélope Cruz look alike, mother and her accomplished husband, a respected doctor. The nursery is pristine, a devoted maid is ever-present, and an affectionate aunt is ready to help. Yet, this ideal world unravels the moment the baby, Rebecca, is born with a prominent birthmark on her face and neck.

From here, the narrative dives into the mother’s fragile psyche. Her descent into mental illness is portrayed with empathy and depth — torn between shielding her daughter from a cruel world and hiding her away entirely. The father’s helplessness and the strength of the mysterious aunt, who champions Rebecca’s education and introduces her to the piano, offer a poignant contrast.

 

 

As Rebecca grows, so does her resilience. She finds solace and acceptance in an unlikely friend from a very different walk of life — a spirited girl who challenges societal norms with ease. Through this friendship, Rebecca discovers self-worth and agency, even as her mother spirals further into despair.

The film does not shy away from tragedy, but it also doesn’t let grief define its ending. Instead, it gently guides the audience — and its characters — toward hope, growth, and a redefinition of beauty, love, and family.

Themes of fate, identity, societal pressure, and inner strength are woven with subtlety and sophistication. Director and cast handle emotional nuance with a light but sure touch, while the cinematography elevates every moment into painterly perfection.

A must-watch for lovers of European cinema and classical music, The Life Apart is both a heartbreaking and life-affirming journey. Let it transport you to Italy and envelop you in its rich atmosphere. This is the kind of film you carry with you, reflecting on its quiet power long after the screen fades to black.

To book tickets to The Life Apart (Italian Film Festival), please visit https://italianfilmfestival.com.au/films/iff25-the-life-apart.

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