by Cain Noble-Davies
Worth: $17.00
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Ananda Everingham, Achita Sikamana, Natthaweeranuch Thongmee
Intro:
… classic 2000s horror done right …
Photography, whether it’s singular stills or multiples projected per second to create cinema, is the act of preserving images. Not necessarily reality, as there have been methods for altering footage since its inception, but nevertheless, those moments are preserved through the act. They can be precious personal memories, affected depictions of the fantastic… or giving new life to those dearly departed.
The original Thai horror film Shutter was one of many victims of the ill-advised 2000s American remake craze (among three separate remakes in India), and it shares similarities with its kin despite its geographical distance. Like The Ring and Pulse, it’s an example of technology becoming the new vehicle for the ghost stories of old, with apparitions appearing in the developments of photographer Tun (Ananda Everingham) after a fateful car accident that resulted in death. It’s a fascination that followed directors Parkpoom Wongpoom and Banjohn Pisanthanakun right into the present day, with the former’s cell phone thriller miniseries Delete and the latter’s mockumentary horror The Medium. Because horror, much like its many spooky subjects, has a habit of following people.
Rewatching this in a post-MeToo world is an interesting experience, with Tun’s complicity in gendered violence and later attempts to wash his hands of any culpability, playing a large role in the bigger thematic ideas being captured. While not every attempt to layer it holds up, like an allusion to praying mantis mating habits that muddies the righteous waters somewhat (not to mention a downright odd sequence in a public toilet), its depiction lays into the kind of male fragility that can’t stand the idea of considering that maybe, just maybe, you might have fucked up at some point.
The film craft is classic 2000s horror done right, with Niramon Ross’ consistently chilly colour palettes combined with Manop Boonvipat and Lee Chatametikool’s serrated editing imbuing every frame with an icy atmosphere. The individual set pieces hold up well too, from the surreal aqueous textures of the opening credits, to a quietly solemn visit to the deceased’s mother’s house, to a terrific sequence utilising a camera flash that pushes what Wan and Whannell provided in the first Saw film the same year to even greater effect.
Underneath the boiling bile that is the gut reaction to the ultimate truth behind what happened to poor Natre (Achita Sikamana), there’s a prolonged sense of bittersweet melancholy. What lies at the heart of this story is a warped idea of love and companionship, wearing the mask of supernatural malice. There’s justified anger bubbling away throughout, but as it enters into the Wham! finale, the undercurrent of all ghost stories (the want to reconnect from beyond the veil) is shown as something truly horrifying… but not even on the part of the haunted. Instead, on the part of someone whose trauma transcended the mortal plane, and who just wanted someone to be close to.
Shutter remains a landmark moment for Thai horror cinema, and with its latest glow-up, the choice to revisit its enrapturing dread has been made all the easier. It highlights the kind of attention to scares and sound design, in particular, that led to the fascination with this previously-neglected sector of the global film market, and in turn, the fundamental misunderstanding of it that resulted in all those refuse-pile remakes. This is a collection of images with real weight on their shoulders.