Once a thriving hotbed of innovation, the Japanese horror scene has begun to settle into a comfortable groove over the past few years. Since the 1998 release of Hideo Nakata's Ring, it seems as though every film in the genre is adhering to the same tried-and-true scare formula, Nakata's own Dark Water included. Takashi Shimizu — responsible for the copycat-ish Ju-On films and their American remakes — steps forward to buck that trend with Marebito, a haunting and original tale of one man's obsession with terror.

Shot on digital video during an eight day span between the production of Ju-On and The Grudge, Marebito is proof positive that Shimizu has more artistic creativity than is evident in his mainstream films. This glacially-paced chiller is centered on a man named Masuoka, a freelance cameraman who captures a shocking suicide in a Japanese subway station. Reviewing the video footage in his apartment, he becomes obsessed with discovering the horrific sights that drove this man to gouge his own eyes out.

With camera in hand, Masuoka returns to the scene of the crime and ventures down into the sunless underground labyrinth below the surface of Tokyo. The photojournalist is greeted by residents of the underworld, the sight-impaired deros and even a vision of the man whose death he recently filmed. He soon finds himself passing through urban tunnels, ancient ruins and bizarre subterranean landscapes, until he comes across a naked young girl chained up inside an alcove. Masuoka frees the girl and brings her back to his apartment, where he attempts to nurse her back to health.

Cutie likes her ba-ba!

Feral girl "F" curls up with a bottle of her favorite blood type. She's like a kitten! (Photo courtesy of the Philadelphia Film Society)

Masuoka initially treats the girl — whom he curiously dubs "F" — as a fellow human, but quickly discovers that she is very much a wild animal completely lacking the social upbringing of her curious host. Unable to speak, stand or stay awake for more than a few hours, F has more in common with a house cat than with her upright human peers. Marebito has certainly established an eerie, unsettling milieu by this point, but the film doesn't truly turn the freak-out volume up to eleven until Masuoka discovers that F's sole source of nourishment is blood.

With this setup firmly established, the film could have easily devolved into hokey fish-out-of-water territory, but Shimizu steers clear of these trappings to deliver a much more heady rumination on the nature of fear and madness. Masuoka's relationship with the placidly calm, cat-like girl forms the crux of the second act, though his deepening desire to drive himself insane soon takes center stage. As he is impelled to horrific acts to keep up with his impromptu daughter's dietary needs, we are privy to the disturbing thoughts that drag him ever downward.

Marebito — though not a beautiful film by any stretch — is still strikingly hypnotic to watch as it undulates through a dreamlike progression of dark themes. Though lacking the visual finesse of film, Shimizu's video odyssey still manages to evoke feelings of unease and dread as it winds its way through some upsetting territory, both physical and emotional. The film makes some disquieting revelations towards its climax, but it's not entirely clear if these are to be taken literally or as more colorful threads in Shimizu's psychological tapestry.

While wholly effective as a moody, thought-provoking experimental piece, the film tends to mimic the intensity (or lack thereof) of its Prozac-ingesting protagonist. Neither spastic nor settled, Shimizu's pet project seems content to coast through its waking nightmare without ever truly rankling the viewer. Perhaps this was the directors' point all along, to examine an existential situation without resorting to cheap jump-scares, excessively loud noises or jarring camera movements. Marebito offers a refreshing change of pace, if nothing else.

And ultimately, it's tough for me to pound the gavel too hard on a film that eschews so many of the scares du jour with which so many genre bigshots are enamored. With an even-keeled, everyman performance from Shinya Tsukamoto and a liberal serving of cryptic dialogue, Marebito deftly tugs at the fibers of consciousness to provide a surprisingly satisfying work of horror cinema. Hopefully this one stays firmly rooted on its native soil and flies under the radar of the big-budget cinema machine. Rewarding and recommended.

Thumbs Up. Moody and macabre, Marebito offers a cerebral musing on the inner workings of a mind obsessed with madness.