Rantaro, Kirimaru and Hemu-Hemu

When I was taking a walk in the woods, I found the three VHS tapes (except the second tape that's in the case, which was the 2000 Fangoria Films re-release of Kirimaru) lying down on the ground. I picked them up and rushed home. After rushing home, I went to the living room and I was surprised that there was a VCR/DVD combo in the table where the TV stands in the top of it. I inserted the first tape (Rantaro) into the VCR. The tape was in mint condition with the original label and rewound to the beginning.

The Hemu-Hemu Production logo plays as usual. After it fades out, "Rantaro" in Japanese appears. I think I've heard that name before. It disappears.

A woman (portrayed by Seiko Nakano) covering her face with her hands appears. It seems to me like she's embarrassed or something. She emerges her hands by showing her face, staring emotionless at me. I thought to myself "Why is this woman staring at me? Is she mentally ill or something?" All of a sudden, red and cyan flashing lights appear. Ouch! My eyes!

As the video goes on and on, sound effects (in which the film was sound edited by Shimada Sound) are heard and flashing lights go on an empty building full of dark hallways. I said to the TV "What the hell is going on, man?! Brother, you don't have to put flashing lights in this film, otherwise it may potentially trigger seizures for people with photosensitive epilepsy! Jesus Christ, man! I know five years in Tokyo changed your life, but go home, man."

It's the time the credits showed up. Toshiyuki Shimada served as director and producer, Seiko Nakano portrayed as a woman, Osamu Shoji composed a pulsating noise soundtrack and Shimada Sound sound edited the film.

The tape ended. I rewinded it to the beginning before ejecting the tape out of the VCR.

Okay, so, now that the first tape is over, it's time to move on with the next one, except that it's in the case. This case is the 2000 Fangoria Films re-release of Kirimaru, which was produced and directed by Toshiyuki Shimada under his Hemu-Hemu Production company and released in 1984, the same year Rantaro was made. And it's no surprise that Bin Shimada portrayed as the ghost. I took the tape out of the case and I inserted it into the VCR and I watched the TV. The Fangoria Films logo came out as normal. I was creeped out by this (even the music). After the logo, the Hemu-Hemu Production logo plays.

The white screen moves from down to up in the black screen. It then wipes into the cyanish background as the Japanese text "Kirimaru" appears.

The film starts as we see time-lapse shots of clouds and a sunrise. We move on to cars and trains passing by in streets and roads in time-lapse. Then we are headed to the apartment complex, where haunting lights and haunted spaces otherworldly move and in abstracted times.

I paused the tape at 01:39. I asked to myself "Did I see a Tamara de Lempicka poster? Because I hadn't heard of her before."

I continued to watch it by pressing the play button. A ghost (portrayed by Bin Shimada, and I was right, he does look like Bin) visits the apartment complex by appearing. Like I said, I was creeped out by this. It gets even worse as haunting lights and haunted spaces keep going on and the scary music (which was composed by the late Isao Tomita) intensifies. I was only shaken up by these. I thought to myself "This music composed by Mr. Tomita sounds, to me, like a nana825763 video you could find on YouTube."

After a couple of minutes watching it, Miscellaneous Anime Sound 132 is heard as a haunted light emerges from the TV and then disappearing before the credits show up.

I was relieved that this is finally over, but the music is still there, which gives me creeps. The staff of this film is Toshiyuki Shimada (who produced and directed it), Bin Shimada (who was starred as a ghost), Isao Tomita (who is the composer of the film), Fukushima Sound (who is the sound editor of it), Maki Production (who designed the title logo), Setsuko Matsuo and Noriko Shimada (the two females the film especially thanked them for their cooperation). Next up is the last but not least tape; it's Hemu-Hemu, produced by Hemu-Hemu Production in 1993; the year Nintama Rantaro was aired. What's funny is that the title and the company name share each other.

Without further ado, I put the tape into the VCR and I watched it, only that something's different in this; after the Japanese text "1993年度作品" (Produced in 1993) fades out, we see live-action smoke on the screen. The smoke gets sucked up by a hole with red lightning (which would be fire), and once the smoke gets sucked up the hole is revealed to take shape of a swan facing right. The hole turns red inside. "製作" (Produced by) fades in next to the swan. "有限会社ヘムヘム製作" (Hemu-Hemu Production Ltd.) appears quickly letter-by-letter below.

I wasn't expecting this logo to appear because, to me, it looks brand new, I guess. But I was creeped out by the logo. So, back to the film.

Hemu-Hemu starts off with some scenes in the outdoors which are dream-vivid and curiously empty: a park from which paths unexplored lead away, a flood control channel, some empty buildings. There are no people, except a kid (only the silhouette of him is seen on-screen) playing on a swing, but there are heightened natural sounds. As time passes on, a horror music composed by Motokazu Shinoda (which I know you've heard this before) plays in the background.

Stills from these scenes become an organic cluster of framed photos beneath a wreath. The photos are on a wall in an odd room with strange diegetic lighting (lighting effects produced by visible light sources), and a chequered black and white floor. The unnerving effect is strangely reminiscent of that produced by the room "Beyond the Infinite" in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

We move on to see frame photos, flowers and even a toy train (that is the cutest thing I've ever seen). While a toy train, bandaged up, whizzes round a simple track, the same horror music from earlier plays for the second time. After a couple of minutes, a toy train stops by crashing into the left foot of a man without a face. I was caught off-guard by this and said "What the hell is happening, man?".

A series of unusual scenes in this room expresses what lies between memories, nightmares, and violent images occurs. On 6 minutes and 7 seconds, we cut to scenes of someone going downstairs (which of course reminds me of SCP-087, except that it's now brightened up), clouds shot in time lapse, then back to the building where we went to, and an hourglass, also bandaged up, emptying quickly. There are two figures in the movie, one tied down, another covered in lights and moving around. Sometimes the light effects are astonishing, perhaps meant to represent neuronal firing. I thought to myself "God help me... Please protect me from this infernal film..."

On approximate 10 minutes, flashing white lights appear after a man breaks the camera lens with a tree trunk skewer. I had a headache giving by the flashing lights. After stopping breaking the camera lens, the flashing lights disappear. I was soon relieved, but still, the time-lapse shots keep going, as soon as the same horror fanfare from earlier plays for the third and last time. After minutes of time-lapse shots, we cut to a man without his face sitting on a chair, meaning that this is the last time-lapse shot.

The staff of the film is Toshiyuki Shimada (who served as the director, cameraman and an actor), Motokazu Shinoda (who composed the horror music), Shimada Sound (who is in charge of sound editing), Yukiko Abe, Kazuko Yanagi, Ayako Kobayashi and Yuriko Arai (the four women who served as artists).

In the end, I found the movie quite upsetting and nihilistic, perhaps what it is, is an epistemological horror movie.

I don't plan on destroying the three tapes I've watched, so don't worry, I've put them in the shelf. Normally, I wouldn’t find something like this all that disturbing, so please...

If you find the copies of the three tapes, just stay away from them.