Based on a video game of the same name, Genki Kawamura's Exit 8 could have been a primer 90s-early 2000s for Kiyoshi Kurosawa. It's got everything that resonated at the time - everyday salaryman liminal space horror - taking place mainly in fluorescent lit subway station corridors where a character can't find an exit. The repetition, a metaphor for a rat race trapped in the moebius strip - purgatory or hell of modern existence, is very well realized in the creepy, antiseptic, impersonal setting that permeates dread.
There are rules to follow - you will need to reach Exit 8 by going through a series of identical corridors and when you notice something is different than previous time, you must turn back, otherwise you are fated to repeat from the beginning. That means, counting every billboard on the wall, every locked utility door, vents, etc.
It begins with an unnamed man (Kazunari Ninomiya) is seen talking to his ex who might be pregnant with his child, in a crowded subway during rush hour. He also witnesses a salaryman screaming at a young woman who has a crying baby. No one does anything including him. After he gets out of the subway car, he finds Exit 8 sign, but the empty corridors don't lead you to the exit. It is endless, identical corridors with white tiles.
He sees a 'walking man' (Yamato Kochi) with a briefcase passing him by at every turn. The walking man sometimes stops to look at his phone and is completely unresponsive. Then strange things start to happen. The ads on the wall change, the walking man's creepy smile, a lost boy, the ceiling dripping blood...
Exit 8 has a potential to have millions of ways to explore the existential dread and be the creepiest, most effective modern horror film. But instead, Kawamura settles on the Spielbergian narrative. There are some effective creepy moments in the film. But I miss the late 90s, early 2000 J-horror haydays.
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