Kayleigh Murphy Thesis

(UN)DEAD JAPAN: A GENRE ANALYSIS
OF THE JAPANESE ZOMBIE FILM
Kayleigh Murphy
Bachelor of Creative Industries (Honours)
Submitted in fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of

Doctor of Philosophy (Research)
Creative Industries Faculty

Film, Screen and Animation
Queensland University of Technology
2015
Keywords
Japanese Zombie Movies, Zombie Movie Studies, Japanese Horror Cinema, Horror
Movies, Transnationalism, Genre Studies.
Introduction 3
Abstract
Since the zombie’s introduction to cinema in the 1930s, it has progressively become
one of the most recognisable and popular monsters in cinema history and an icon in
popular culture. It has been acknowledged within film studies that the zombie is a
quintessentially American monster reflecting and representing the fears, concerns
and issues of American and to an extent Western society. However, since the zombie
movie’s resurgence in the early 2000s, there has been a significant increase in the
production of international zombie films, of which Japan has been at the forefront.
Japan has long been acknowledged as playing a critical role in stimulating the
modern zombie genre’s popularity following the release of the survival horror
videogame Resident Evil (titled Biohazard when originally released in Japan), which
enjoyed substantial commercial success both in Japan and internationally following
its 1996 release. Nevertheless, research into the zombie movie as a prominent sub-
genre in horror cinema has remained focused upon movies from the United States
and Western countries, as well as examining themes and generic conventions through
a principally Western lens.
Since the late 1990s, Japan has consistently produced zombie films, equalling the
United Kingdom in terms of the number of zombie films produced for cinema and
direct-to-DVD markets. Films such as Helldriver (Dir: Yoshihiro Nishimura, 2010),
Zombie TV (Dir: Yoshihiro Nishimura, 2013), Versus (Dir: Ryûhei Kitamura, 2000),
Tokyo Zombie (Dir: Sakichi Satô, 2005) and television shows such as the anime
series High School of the Dead (2010) have garnered varying degrees of popularity
and critical attention both domestically and internationally by playing at international
film festivals throughout the United States, Europe and Australia and finding
international distribution through Tartan Asia Extreme and Madman distributors.
This study is an in-depth examination of the stylistic and generic characteristics of

the Japanese zombie film and its relations to Japanese horror cinema and the
conventions and tropes of Western zombie movies more generally. The following
primary research questions guide this study:
4 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

1. How is the zombie sub-genre situated within the broader context of the
Japanese horror cinema and how does the production context of Japanese
zombie movies influence thematic and stylistic trends?
2. What culturally unique generic and thematic elements define the zombie sub-
genre in Japan? What, if any, generic and aesthetic qualities specific to
Japanese horror cinema are incorporated into the Japanese zombie film?
3. What are the key thematic and generic points of difference between Japanese
and Western zombie film and which Western generic conventions do
Japanese zombie films retain?
The thesis argues that the Japanese zombie film as a filmmaking tradition is one of
heavy cultural exchange and intertextuality. More specifically, the Japanese zombie
film incorporates and celebrates the sub-genre’s Western origins, conventions, tropes
and stylistic choices for the representation of the monster while also integrating
culturally specific aesthetics, tropes and themes to create a sub-genre that is uniquely
Japanese. Through generic analysis of key Japanese zombie films released over the
last 15 years, this study establishes the sub-genre’s ties to transnational production
practices and cult cinema and delineates the position of the zombie sub-genre in
regard to both Japanese horror cinema and the Western zombie movie tradition more
generally.
Introduction 5
Table of Contents
Keywords ............................................................................................................................................. 3
Abstract................................................................................................................................................. 4
Table of Contents ................................................................................................................................ 6
List of Figures...................................................................................................................................... 9
List of Tables ..................................................................................................................................... 10
Statement of Original Authorship ................................................................................................... 11
Acknowledgements ........................................................................................................................... 12
Chapter 1: Introduction ............................................................................................................ 13
Research questions and research focus .......................................................................................... 16
Methodology ...................................................................................................................................... 23
Primary data and research methods ................................................................................................ 24
Genre analysis and genre movie studies ........................................................................... 24
Document analysis ............................................................................................................ 26
Interviews.......................................................................................................................... 27
Challenges for the study ................................................................................................................... 29
The language barrier ......................................................................................................... 31
Selecting films for analysis ............................................................................................... 32
Research design ................................................................................................................................. 33
Chapter breakdown ........................................................................................................................... 34
Chapter 2: The History and Characteristics of the Western Zombie Movie ....... 36
The horror genre and monsters........................................................................................................ 36
The Western zombie, a monster and a genre ................................................................................ 39
Defining the zombie .......................................................................................................... 40
The enslaved zombie ......................................................................................................... 41
The Romero zombie and psychoanalysis .......................................................................... 43
The abject.......................................................................................................................... 44
The uncanny ...................................................................................................................... 46
The diverging models of the contemporary zombie .......................................................... 47
Contemporary zombie conventions ................................................................................................ 51
Source of the outbreak ...................................................................................................... 51
Speed................................................................................................................................. 52
Consciousness ................................................................................................................... 56
Setting ............................................................................................................................... 58
Characters ......................................................................................................................... 59
Conclusion ......................................................................................................................................... 62
Chapter 3: Transnationalism, the Japanese Film Industry and Genre ................. 64
National cinema ........................................................................................................................ 65
Transnationalism ............................................................................................................................... 66
Globalisation, cultural adaptation and hybridity ............................................................... 66
Transnational definition and concepts .............................................................................. 68
Japanese cinema, the region and transnationalism ....................................................................... 70

Japanese cinema and the film industry .............................................................................. 70
Regional markets ............................................................................................................... 72
Co-production in Asia and the regional market ................................................................. 73
Examples of co-productions and transnational films in Asia ............................................ 74
American horror remakes .................................................................................................. 76
Genre and transnationalism.............................................................................................................. 79
The horror genre and the international horror film............................................................ 80
Examples of international and transnational horror .......................................................... 82
Conclusion .......................................................................................................................................... 85
Chapter 4: Japanese Horror Cinema, Aesthetics and Industry ............................... 86
A history of the horror movie in Japanese cinema ....................................................................... 90
Post-WWII ........................................................................................................................ 90
Daikaiju Eiga ..................................................................................................................... 93
Japanese theatre influences in early Japanese cinema.................................................................. 95
Kabuki, Nō and Bunraku influences in Japanese cinema .................................................. 95
Pre-modern horror: the Edo Gothic films .......................................................................... 96
Japanese exploitation cinema: pinku eiga, body horror and Guinea Pig films ......................... 98
Pinku eiga .......................................................................................................................... 99
V-Cinema and Guinea Pig films ..................................................................................... 101
Body horror ..................................................................................................................... 102
Contemporary Japanese horror cinema ........................................................................................ 105
Techno-Horror and the birth of The Ring: a new cycle of horror ................................... 107
Death and the afterlife in Japanese horror cinema and the yurei film ..................................... 109
Conclusion ........................................................................................................................................ 113
Chapter 5: Japanese Zombie Films ................................................................................... 114
The Western zombie in Japan and the introduction of the Japanese zombie film ................. 115
The Japanese zombie ...................................................................................................................... 118
Origins of the undead ...................................................................................................... 118
Japanese zombies and mutation ...................................................................................... 120
Spiritual beliefs, familial responsibility and Japanese zombies ...................................... 123
Cognitive abilities ........................................................................................................... 125
Size of the threat in Japanese zombie films ..................................................................... 128
Conclusion ........................................................................................................................................ 131
Chapter 6: Japanese Zombies as Cult Cinema.............................................................. 132
Cult cinema, innovation and the Japanese zombie film ............................................................. 133
Badness and transgression in the Japanese zombie film ................................................. 135
Gore in Japanese zombie films ........................................................................................ 139
Intertextuality in Japanese zombie films ......................................................................... 142
Western/transnational intertextuality............................................................................... 143
Genre mash-up and intertextuality .................................................................................. 146
Cultural status of the Japanese zombie film ................................................................................ 148
Strangeness ...................................................................................................................... 148
Allegory and politics ....................................................................................................... 150
Conclusion ........................................................................................................................................ 152
Chapter 7: Discussion and Conclusion ............................................................................. 154
Comparing Japanese and Western zombie films ........................................................................ 155
Defining the zombie ........................................................................................................ 156
Introduction 7
Spreading the outbreak.................................................................................................... 157
Blurring the line between zombie and monster ............................................................... 159
Evaluating Japanese zombie movies ............................................................................................ 164
Studying Japanese zombies ........................................................................................................... 168
Conclusions ...................................................................................................................................... 171
Implications for further research ..................................................................................... 175
Reference List ............................................................................................................................. 176
Appendices 192
Appendix A 192
Japanese Zombie Films ........................................................................................................... 192
Appendices 197
Appendix B Interview Questions ............................................................................................ 197

List of Figures
Figure 1. Evolution of zombies in The Walking Dead……………..……………45
Figure 2. Taxonomy of the dead……………………………………………..55
Figure 3. Prohibited themes, published by the Civil Information and Education

Service, November, 1945……………………………………………………..92
Figure 4. Zombies in Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead………....……….138
Introduction 9
List of Tables
Table 1: Interviews and correspondence with filmmakers and academics………….28

Table 2: Alignment of research questions, research methods and primary
data/discussion chapters…………………………………………………..…………33

Statement of Original Authorship
The work contained in this thesis has not been previously submitted to meet
requirements for an award at this or any other higher education institution. To the
best of my knowledge and belief, the thesis contains no material previously
published or written by another person except where due reference is made.
Signature: QUT Verified Signature
Date: October 2015
Introduction 11
Acknowledgements
While writing a PhD is often solitary work, the last three years would not have been
possible without the support and guidance of many important people.
Thanks are due to the PhD students who also call the HDR Dungeon home. Avi,
Elizabeth, Steve, Rauri and everyone else who either dropped by or filled in desks
when others moved out, you all served as sounding boards, therapists, teachers and
writing buddies. Thank you to the staff at QUT, especially the HDR team, for having
an answer ready every time I sent an email. Thanks also to Candy Pettus who edited
my thesis.
I also want to express my gratitude to the filmmakers for offering their time and
expertise when I visited Japan in 2014 and for welcoming me so warmly during the
Yubari International Film Festival. Special thanks are owed to Marc Walkow and
Mai Nakanishi who served as translators and tour guides during the same research
trip.
I couldn’t have completed this study without the guidance and support of my
supervisors Mark Ryan and Greg Hearn. In particular I’d like to thank Mark for
helping me through every step of the PhD process and teaching me an extraordinary
amount about horror, cinema and life as an academic. Thank you for your patience
and for challenging me to be a better researcher and writer.
To my friends outside of the post-grad program I have to thank for giving me much
needed reprieves from my study. Thank you from reminding me that there is a world
outside of my office and away from my computer. Thank you to my family for
supporting me and for not rolling your eyes when I told you I wanted to spend three
years researching and writing about Japanese zombie films.
And finally, a thousand thanks to my boyfriend Tom who has shared a home with me
while I completed this degree and has witnessed my many moments of joy,
frustration and anger. Thank you for cheering me on when I struggled and for
believing in my ability to finish such a mammoth task. I couldn’t have done it
without you.

Chapter 1: Introduction
Since the zombie’s introduction to cinema in the 1930s, it has progressively become
one of the most recognisable and popular monsters in screen history and an icon in
popular culture. Though there have been times, such as the 1990s, when the zombie
movie experienced a major decline in mainstream popularity and threatened to
disappear from cinema screens altogether, the shambling undead or reanimated
corpse has always found a way back onto the cinema screen. In 2002, the zombie
sub-genre experienced what Kyle William Bishop (2009, 19) argues is a major
“renaissance” following the release of films such as 28 Days Later (Dir: Danny
Boyle) and Resident Evil (Dir: Paul W. S. Anderson), and later with the return of
George A. Romero to the genre in 2005 with the film Land of the Dead. The box
office success of big budget films, such as Zombieland (Dir: Ruben Fleischer, 2009),
Warm Bodies (Dir: Jonathan Levine, 2013), and World War Z (Dir: Marc Forster,
2013) further (re)established the genre. The revival of the zombie movie in recent
years has led to the mass popularity of both the zombie monster and the zombie
movie as a horror sub-genre (Bishop 2009). As journalist Warren St John (2006, 1)
states, “in films, books and videogames, the undead are once again on the march,
elbowing past werewolves, vampires, swamp things and mummies to become the
post-millennial ghoul of the moment”.
Though the zombie’s roots originate in Haiti (discussed in more depth in Chapter
Two), the monster was quickly adopted by American filmmakers during the monster
cycle of the 1930s after the box office success of White Zombie (Dir: Victor
Halperin, 1932), which grossed US$8 million at the box office in the United States
(Russell 2006, 21). Following an early cycle of zombie films, which included movies
such as I Walked With A Zombie (Dir: Jacques Tourneur, 1943) and Isle of the Dead
(Dir: Mark Robson, 1945), Romero reinvigorated the sub-genre in the late 1960s
following the release of Night of the Living Dead and the zombie has long since been
regarded by critics and academics as an American or Western monster. However,
according to Daniel W. Drezner (2010, 2), recent estimates suggest that “more than a
third of all zombie films ever made were released in the past decade”. America
remains the primary producer of zombie films in terms of both lower-budget
Introduction 13
independent titles and higher-budget blockbusters, yet the diverse array of zombie
films produced internationally in recent years has also garnered attention. Indeed,
unlike earlier decades, where films of this sub-genre were primarily produced in the
West, specifically the United States, the United Kingdom and Italy, and consumed
by audiences worldwide, this new cycle of zombie films involves a much greater
level of production by international filmmakers. Since the post-millennial
renaissance of the zombie movie, there has been a surge in zombie films produced in
a diverse range of countries, such as Cuba (Juan of the Dead. Dir: Alejandro
Brugués, 2011), Norway (Dead Snow. Dir: Tommy Wirkola, 2009), Pakistan
(Zobahkana. Dir: Omar Khan, 2007), Nigeria (Ojuju. Dir: C. J. “Fiery” Obasi, 2014)
and Thailand (Sars Wars: Bangkok Zombie Crisis. Dir: Taweewat Wantha, 2004). Of
the countries outside of the Anglosphere and Western Europe that have produced
zombie movies for the international marketplace in recent years, Japan has emerged
as one of the more significant producers of international zombie films.
Unlike some of the non-Anglophone examples mentioned above, since the late 1990s
Japan has consistently produced zombie films. Indeed, between 2000 and 2014,
Japanese filmmakers produced approximately 270 zombie titles (Zombie Movie
Database 2002). While this figure is still far behind the predicted 3000 titles
produced in the United States, the volume of Japan zombie movies is roughly
commensurate with that of the UK, which produced approximately 300 zombie titles
during the same period (Zombie Movie Database 2002). These figures were
extrapolated from the Zombie Movie Database at the time of writing. This database
is user-generated and covers a broad range of film and television, from independent
films and short films to studio-produced blockbusters. Furthermore, the definition of
what constitutes a zombie on this site is broad and therefore may or may not align
with the definition used within this study. For this reason, these figures are
indicative, and are an attempt to provide a general indication of the production rates
of Japanese zombie films, rather than a definitive count of every film produced.
While many of these films have been released into the direct-to-DVD market, movies
such as Versus (Dir: Ryûhei Kitamura, 2000), Tokyo Zombie (Dir: Sakichi Satô,
2005), Helldriver (Dir: Yoshihiro Nishimura, 2010), Zombie TV (Dir: Yoshihiro

Nishimura, 2013), , and television shows such as High School of the Dead (2010)
have garnered varying degrees of popularity and critical attention not only in Japan
but internationally, playing at international and horror film festivals throughout the
United States, Europe and Australia and finding international distribution through
Tartan Asia Extreme. Most importantly within the context of this study, in many
cases Japanese filmmakers approach the zombie movie in unique and different ways,
drawing upon cultural and spiritual themes and conventions unique to Japanese
cinema while also integrating conventions, tropes and stylistic choices from popular
Western zombie films such as Night of the Living Dead (1968) and Shaun of the
Dead (2005)
In film studies, Japan has long been acknowledged as playing an important role in
the reanimation of the modern zombie genre following the release of the survival
horror videogame Resident Evil (1996) (titled Biohazard when originally released in
Japan), which achieved strong commercial and critical success worldwide (Balmain
2008; Wing-Fai 2012; Russell 2006). However, while scholars readily acknowledge
the role Japan played in the rekindling of the zombie genre in the early 2000s, the
plethora of research on the renaissance of contemporary zombie films remains
focused on American and, to a lesser extent, British and European output. With the
exception of Dead Snow (2009) among a handful of other examples, Western
movies, including the US-produced Resident Evil film franchise, 28 Days Later,
Zombieland (Dir: Ruben Fleischer, 2009), Romero’s post-2000 Dead trilogy (Land,
Survival and Diary of the Dead), and Shaun of the Dead (Dir: Edgar Wright, 2004),
are often the foci of scholarly discussion.
While there are a growing number of monograph-length studies on Japanese horror

cinema as a unique national style of horror cinema, the Japan zombie movie as a
distinct sub-genre of Japanese horror cinema and as a cultural-industrial category has
received limited in-depth analysis. Most published works to date that touch upon the
Japanese zombie film consider the zombie as a minor sub-genre in a much broader
study of Japanese horror cinema or tend to focus on how they reflect cultural
traditions and tropes. In her book Introduction to Japanese Horror Film, Colette
Balmain (2008) examines a range of popular genres at the core of Japanese horror
Introduction 15
cinema, including the zombie movie. Her analysis of the movie Stacy, for instance –
among other key films – focuses on the film’s representation of feminisation and
“engagement with shōjo bunka or girl’s culture” (Balmain 2008, 121) as a counter-
culture statement. Leung Wing-Fai’s (2012) article “Importing Genre, Exporting
Cult: The Japanese Zom-Com” approaches the subject from a purely generic
standpoint, as does Jim Harper’s (2008) book Flowers from Hell: The Modern
Japanese Horror Film. With the exception of Wing-Fai’s article, these studies are
chapters or sections in much larger explorations into Japanese cinema. As this
suggests, the Japanese zombie film has received little analysis as a subject and sub-
genre in its own right, with those collections that have mentioned the Japanese
zombie movie in passing more focused on aesthetic and cultural considerations. Nor
has there been a detailed examination of how the production context of these movies
influences their textuality, style and thematic concerns.
Research questions and research focus
The following primary research questions guide this study:
1. How is the zombie sub-genre situated within the broader context of the
Japanese horror cinema and how does the production context of Japanese
zombie movies influence thematic and stylistic trends?
2. What culturally unique generic and thematic elements define the zombie sub-
genre in Japan? What, if any, generic and aesthetic qualities specific to
Japanese horror cinema are incorporated into the Japanese zombie film?
3. What are the key thematic and generic points of difference between
Japanese and Western zombie film and which Western generic conventions
do Japanese zombie films retain?
The object of this study is contemporary Japanese zombie films produced between 2000
and 2014. The films analysed in this study include cult films and the more significant,
critically acclaimed and commercially successful zombie films produced in Japan.
Implicit in the research questions above, the focus of this study is three-fold: (1) the
production context that gives rise to Japanese zombie films; (2) generic

characteristics of Japanese zombie movies and what can be regarded as the Japanese
zombie film sub-genre; and (3) the cultural specificity and unique cultural tropes that
shape these films.
First, this study examines the production context of these films and the relationship
between Japanese zombie films and Japanese cinema more generally. Second, this
study will look at generic, thematic and stylistic conventions, such as tropes,
plotlines and character types within a selection of zombie films to examine how the
Japanese zombie film combines both the characteristics typical of the Western
zombie film, but also transgresses these boundaries to create a zombie genre unique
to Japan. In so doing, the aim of the study is to provide a detailed examination of
how the Japanese zombie film engages with and, in some cases assimilates, the
generic elements at the core of the zombie monster, a traditionally Western cinematic
monster, and zombie movie more generally within the context of Japanese horror
cinema. Third, this study considers the cultural context of the Japanese zombie film:
both in terms of how the original Western genre was received in Japan, and how the
genre has been shaped by broad traditions and tropes of Japanese horror cinema. This
study examines the cultural elements which have been introduced to the traditionally
Western genre to create a culturally specific sub-genre. As the Japanese zombie film
can be regarded as interstitial, falling between mainstream and cult cinema, this
study also considers how the Japanese zombie film functions as cult cinema.
This study constitutes one of the most in-depth thematic and generic examinations of
the Japanese zombie movie to date. This study’s contribution to knowledge is four-
fold. First, this study contributes to horror movie scholarship’s current understanding
of the zombie genre. While the vampire and the serial killer have been examined
through multiple cultural perspectives, the zombie is primarily regarded as a Western
monster and the scholarship depicts it as such. As outlined in more depth in the
following section, this study is part of a broader critical shift away from the Western
paradigm to a more culturally diverse view of the genre. Second, this study
contributes to knowledge by encouraging examination into how the zombie can be
culturally codified. To return to the vampire as an example, vampire films made in
countries without a heavy Christian presence necessitated that the Christian
Introduction 17
iconography of the genre be substituted for something more culturally relevant. The
same can be said of international zombie films. This study, as an example, examines
how the Japanese zombie film negotiates between the Western origin of zombies
rising from their graves and Japanese funerary traditions, which favour cremation
over burial. As production of the zombie movie continues to expand internationally,
discussion about these adaptations and forms of integration are important in
constructing an engaging and realistic view of the genre. Furthermore, it explores
how the industrial context of international cinemas, in this case Japan, contributes to
this cultural codification. Third, this study challenges and broadens the definition of
the zombie. As the Western cinematic zombie has evolved over the decades,
scholarship has been dedicated to charting this evolution. Current Western
scholarship into the genre often examines the new fast and aggressive zombie. This
study adds a new dimension to this examination and definition. How do the mutated
zombies of Helldriver fit within the traditional understanding of the zombie? And
fourth, this study presents an expansion of how the zombie movie is understood as a
culturally coded sub-genre. Social commentary plays a large role in Western zombie
scholarship, particularly in relation to Romero’s early trilogy of zombie films (Wood
1979; Bishop 2010; Wetmore 2011). However, when transposing zombies into an
environment that is culturally, politically and religiously different from the US and
the UK, the commentary at play, if indeed any exists, must be different. These four
areas are the study’s primary contribution to knowledge and will be expanded upon
further in Chapter Seven.
The international turn in horror movie scholarship

This study is epistemologically aligned with an important shift in horror movie
scholarship and increasing academic interest in the aesthetics, generic composition
and production cultures of so-called international horror cinema. As a genre, horror
has overtaken the Western as the most written about movie genre in film studies by
scholars (Jancovich 2002, 1). However, until recently, horror movie scholarship has
been dominated by research that focuses primarily on the American horror genre. As
Dana Och and Kirsten Strayer (2014, 3) explain, “American cinema has traditionally
been the paradigm of genre cinema, and thus American horror and horror have
become interchangeable”. This framing of horror as a quintessentially American

genre not only ignores the plethora of horror films produced internationally but also,
as Och and Strayer (2014, 3) argue, the international origins of many prominent
horror tropes and archetypal character types. An example for Och and Strayer (2014,
3) is the movie Dracula (Dir: Tod Browning, 1931) and its eponymous antagonist,
and the development of the archetypal cinematic monster, Count Dracula. While the
1931 film Dracula, starring Bela Lugosi, is an American production, the movie was
adapted from an Irish novel and the story is set in England. Furthermore, German
expressionist films, such as The Cabinet of Dr Caligari (Das Cabinet Des Dr
Caligari. Dir: Robert Wiene. 1920), also had a significant influence on the original
Dracula film and many other films in the horror film genre (Och and Strayer 2014,
3).
While some European films, such as The Cabinet of Dr Caligari (1920), have
received a degree of critical attention in Western film studies, until quite recently the
canon of films at the core of horror movie scholarship were largely American. In
regard to the zombie genre, the canon typically revolves around Romero’s original
trilogy of films Night of the Living Dead (1968), Dawn of the Dead (1978) and Day
of the Dead (1985). More recent research into the zombie film also tends to
incorporate 28 Days Later (2002), Resident Evil (2002) and the English film Shaun
of the Dead (2004) with the Romero films. While these films are integral to the
genre’s development and history, focusing on such a small pool of Western films
limits the frame of analysis for discussion about the aesthetics and function of the
zombie movie as a distinct sub-genre in horror cinema.
Before the recent international turn in horror movie scholarship discussed below,
Mark Jancovich (2007) argued that monograph-length studies in Western horror
movie scholarship could be conceptualised in terms of three primary categories:
The first are histories that set out a narrative of the development of themes
and styles within horror films;
The second are attempts to define the genre theoretically and identify its
fundamental characteristics;
Introduction 19
The third are concentrated studies, which take one particular aspect of the
genre and make that aspect the object of scrutiny (Jancovich 2007, 261).
Of these three categories, the first two outweigh the third because of the ease of
converting them into textbooks, and perpetuates the issue of “commercial pressures
on authors to cater for the widest possible readerships” (Lobato and Ryan 2011,
191). Furthermore, whereas horror scholarship is often championed as challenging
“existing hierarchies” (Jancovich 2007, 261), the first two categories primarily focus
on a canon of films and “approaches breaking new ground are few and far between”
(Lobato and Ryan 2011, 191).
For Peter Hutchings (1995, 73), this is a concern common across genre studies and
there are numerous scholars who “take the existence of the genre in question (and
genres in general) for granted” and merely regurgitate the same analytical
approaches and ideas repeatedly. In these instances, rather than recognise that genres
are fluid constructs likely to change, evolve or shift over time (Jancovich 2007; Pye
2003; Gledhill 2000), by 2007 many books in horror studies presupposed that the
horror genre is fixed and can be regarded as “bodies of films to which new films are
added” (Jancovich, 2007, 262). The end result is sometimes formulaic books, which
fail to critically engage with the evolving nature of horror cinema and further widen
the gap between current production and reception trends and research.
Nevertheless, contemporary horror movie scholarship is becoming more concerned with

the horror movie traditions outside of the United States and Western Europe.
Furthermore, there is an increase in scholarly approaches focusing on the cultural
specificity and interactions between the United States and international horror traditions.
As Steven Jay Schneider (2003, 2) states, while critical focus tends to remain on
American output “the levels of style, technique, and narrative form, the influence of US
horror filmmaking practices, formulas and (sub)generic conventions has by no means
been uni-directional”. Books such as Fear without Frontiers: Horror Cinema across the
Globe (Schneider 2003), Horror International (Schneider and Williams 2005),
Transnational Horror across Visual Media: Fragmented Bodies (Och and Strayer 2014)
and Screening the Undead: Vampires and Zombies in Film

and Television (Hunt, Lockyer and Williamson 2014) seek to explore and discuss
these issues.
For Och and Strayer, scholarship that traverses subjects beyond traditional horror
scholarship not only exemplifies that there is:
an interpenetration between Hollywood and global aesthetics, nor even how

Hollywood absorbs larger trends into its own product, allowing the counter-
hegemonic to easily become the dominant, but also how moments like these
allow us to see how discussions of horror partake in the construction of
national, regional, and global imaginary (2014, 2).
This study is indicative of the shift away from a US-centric understanding of horror
cinema and contributes to the growing scholarship that looks to broaden the terms of
reference and analysis in an attempt to move away from the traditional canon of
horror films to explore the conventions and tropes of international horror. Och and
Strayer argue that by looking at horror through a wider, transnational lens we are
able to “revisit old modes of looking at horror cinema to unpack how classical horror
may have always been more aberrant, less universal, and more foreign than
previously thought” (2014, 2). By examining the Japanese zombie genre and the
films that populate it, this study provides a new avenue for exploring the zombie as
both an American and international cinematic monster.
Cult cinema definitions

While not all Japanese zombie films or Japanese horror films more broadly, are cult
cinema – though many are and film critics often discuss Japanese zombie films
within this context – for a detailed exploration of these sub-genres it is important to
define and establish the function of cult cinema. Arriving at a singular definition of
cult cinema is an impossible task, as the designation of what is and what is not ‘cult’
varies greatly within both scholarship and amongst regular audiences. In academic
film studies, the broadness of definition can be attributed to the various research
methods used to explore cult cinema. Mathijs and Sexton (2011, 6), for instance,
separate studies in cult cinema to either sociological, reception, textual and aesthetic
Introduction 21
explorations. Therefore, a reception study which explores the subculture of cult cinema
screening and audience interactions with cult cinema approaches the subject very
differently from someone who is focusing on textual qualities within a cult film.
Broadly speaking, cult cinema is often equated with bad cinema (Everman 1993, 1)
and this comparison is understandably arrived at due to cult movies’ association with
low budgets, stories that are either bizarre or poorly written and directed, production
values that are “near zero” and terrible acting (Everman 1993, 1). While a certain
logic would suggest that such movies would remain unwatched, quite often the
opposite is true. As director Frank Henenlotter (Juno 1986, 11) argues:
Often, through bad direction, misdirection, inept direction, a film starts

assuming surrealistic overtones, taking a dreadfully clichéd story into new
frontiers – you’re sitting there shaking your head, totally excited, totally
unable to guess where this is going to head next, or what the next loony line
out of somebody’s mouth is going to be. Just as long as it isn’t stuff you
regularly see.
Cult cinema and, more specifically, cult horror cinema, is an evolving subset of
films and their appreciation by audiences can sometimes defy logic. Films may be
designated as cult for a number of reasons. Welch Everman (1993, 1–4) suggests
that key to becoming a cult horror film is exclusivity. This may mean that the film is
made to only appeal to a small and very specific audience or stars a previously well-
known actor as they drift into obscurity. It may even be a little-known film that was
directed by someone who has since gone on to become very famous. An example of
this would be Peter Jackson and his early forays into horror in New Zealand with his
films Dead Alive (1992) and Bad Taste (1987), which are starkly different to his
latest cinematic ventures, such as the Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001–2003) or the
2009 film The Lovely Bones. Similarly, the early role that actor Johnny Depp played
in A Nightmare on Elm Street (Dir: Wes Craven, 1984) has lent the film a certain
level of cult appeal it may not have otherwise achieved.

On the other hand, some people view cult cinema as a political or counter-cultural
statement on cinema culture. Often discussed in relation to cult cinema, paracinema
is “less a distinct group of films than a particular reading protocol, a counter-
aesthetic turned subcultural sensibility devoted to all manner of cultural detritus”
(Sconce 2009, 104). Unlike Everman’s assertion about exclusivity as key to the cult
film, paracinema is primarily motivated by valorising “all forms of cinematic ‘trash’”
(Sconce 2009, 104) in place of traditional cinema. Where traditional cinematic output
is constrained by corporate strata and a chain in command, cult films allow greater
freedom of expression:
Often [low-budget] films are eccentric – even extreme – presentations by

individuals freely expressing their imaginations, who throughout the
filmmaking process improvise creative solutions to problems posed by either
circumstance or budget – mostly the latter. Secondly, they often present
unpopular – even radical – views addressing social, political, racial or sexual
inequalities, hypocrisy in religion or government; or in other ways they
assault taboos related to the presentation of sexuality, violence and other
mores (Vale and Juno 1986, 5).
Exploitation cinema, and the hallmarks of exploitation cinema, are often conflated
with cult cinema, whereas this type of cinema is more accurately a subset of a
broader cult definition. As defined by Schaefer (quoted in Mathijs and Sexton 2011:
146) early exploitation films were smaller and far cheaper than their B-grade
counterparts and were marked by the necessity of those involved to multitask
stimulated by these constraints. These films were marked not their continued
engagement with taboo subjects such as sex, drugs or abuse but their advertisements
which sought to exploit the inclusion of these controversial subject, hence the title of
‘exploitation’ cinema.
Methodology
This research project is situated within film and genre studies. It builds upon the
recent international turn in horror movie scholarship and the growing body of
Introduction 23
research on Japanese horror cinema. Moreover, this study examines a tradition of
zombie films that has received little previous academic attention other than in trade
magazines and film reviews. Utilising textual analytical techniques that examine
both the textual and contextual components of the films, genre and wider industry,
the approach chosen will provide a holistic framework for the research.
While this study investigates an underdeveloped area of academic enquiry it also

builds upon a tradition of analysis established in various horror cinema texts. The
book Draculas, Vampires and Other Undead Forms: Essays on Gender, Race and
Culture (Browning and Picart 2009) takes the vampire and views it through an
international lens. Rather than simply conforming to the aforementioned traditional
depictions of canonical American and European films, the various authors of this
book break the subject into three distinct regions (America, Europe and Asia) and
then identify variances in the genres specific to those regions. In addition to this text,
Schneider’s (2003) book Fear without Frontiers: Horror Cinema across the Globe
has played a significant role for its interpretation of international cinema and how the
concept of foreignness is at once a unifying and “essential component of horror”
(Schneider 2003, 10). While this thesis does not have as wide a scope as these two
edited collections, their distinctive interpretations on the construction of genre within
national cinemas have proved useful in the construction of this thesis.
Primary data and research methods
The primary data for this project are drawn from genre analysis, document analysis,
interviews and the generic analysis of cinematic texts.
Genre analysis and genre movie studies

A primary research method for this study is genre analysis. Genre analysis can take
many different forms depending upon the intentions and framework of the particular
study. This section will break down genre theory and contextualise its importance for
this study.

A common definition of genre is that it is “a system of codes, conventions and visual
styles which enables an audience to determine rapidly and with some complexity the
kind of narrative they are viewing” (Turner 2006, 119). However, the study of genre
is rarely as clear-cut as that definition suggests. As Jancovich and Geraghty (2008, 5)
explain, using the 1979 film Alien as an example, “specific films may not only be
identified with different genres in different periods, or in different contexts, but they
can also be identified with different genres within a specific period and even within a
specific context”. The film Alien not only causes debate amongst fans as to whether
it is a science fiction or horror film, “but even within horror fandom distinctive
groups will define the genre differently, including some films and excluding others in
the process, and providing a very different sense of what is canonical or not”
(Jancovich and Geraghty 2008, 5). Rick Altman (1999, 14) identifies four primary
components as integral to genre theory:
“genre as blueprint, as a formula that precedes, programmes and

patterns industry production;
genre as structure, as the formal framework on which individual films
are founded;
genre as label, as the name of a category central to the decisions and
communications of distributors and exhibitors;
genre as contract, as the viewing position requires by each genre film
of its audience”.
While Altman acknowledges that not all theorists conduct their analysis in regard to
all four categories, he states that “genre study produces satisfactory results only when
it has the right type of material to work with” (Altman 1999, 17), namely, films that
conform to all four of these generic categories. He argues that this is “because genre
is conceived as a conduit down which are poured textual structures linking
production, exhibition and reception” (Altman 1999, 17).
Genre theory is a subject prone to personal interpretation. Jancovich and Geraghty

(2008, 8) state that “genre studies are continually being updated by new generations
who draw upon their own personal attachments to the films of their childhood or
Introduction 25
adolescence to revise the canons and values of earlier generations”. This constant
evolution is integral to keeping genre studies alive and engaged; however, it also
comes with disadvantages and “it helps us to remember that which has been
excluded or repressed by historical processes, or to change the values and agendas of
previous commentaries ... it can also perform the opposite, encouraging exclusions
and repressions” (Jancovich and Geraghty 2008, 8).
Altman’s breakdown of genre into four categories does not eliminate the personal
bias of scholars and the memories and history they bring to the subject; however, its
structural approach contains and focuses the study to these individual components,
which minimises opportunities for personal bias. This study utilises this approach as
a guide within the conceptual framework for several reasons. Most importantly, it
provides a holistic approach to genre that will serve to highlight both the generic
features of Japanese zombie films and the industrial and production context that
produces these films. Furthermore, the “blueprint” category allows for this study to
look at the Western zombie sub-genre as a formula to both examine Japanese zombie
films against and within.
Furthermore, this study attempts to identify established and emerging narrative and
story conventions at the core of the Western zombie movie and uses this as a point
of reference for analysis and comparative discussion.
Document analysis
Document analysis has long been an important component in qualitative research.
Glenn Bowen (2009, 27) defines document analysis as the “systematic procedure for
reviewing or evaluating documents…in order to elicit meaning, gain understanding,
and develop empirical knowledge”. The analysis of published documents, along with
“interviews, participant or non-participant observation, and physical artefacts”
(Bowen 2009, 28) relating to an area of study is critical for contextualising the
subject and developing a sound understanding upon which new research can be built.
However, as with any research method, document analysis is not without its
limitations. Insufficient detail, low irretrievability and biased selectivity (Yin 2003,
Bowen 2009) are potential limitations that occur when using document analysis.

Nevertheless, it is important to be aware that the limitations in “efficiency and cost-
effectiveness” (Bowen 2009, 32) of document analysis outweigh its disadvantages.
By acknowledging that these limitations exist, it is possible to take steps to minimise
their impact within this thesis.
This study utilised document analysis primarily in the form of industry reports and
critical reviews to contextualise the study and construct a production context for the
Japanese zombie film. The statistics and raw data were obtained through various
organisations, from non-profit Government-affiliated organisations, such as
Unijapan, and industry-related organisations, such the Motion Picture Producers
Association of Japan (MPPAJ). In relation to the limitations of document analysis
outlined above, this study overcame these issues by sourcing data from reputable
industry reports and accessible online film databases. The data have also, where
possible, been cross-referenced with other databases, published industry data and
interviews.
The critical reviews were sourced from a variety of film magazines (Fangoria, Film
Ink) and websites (Diverse Japan, Variety, Badass Digest). Their inclusion
contextualises the reception of films with both Japanese and international audiences
and provides critical insight into the success of the films and the genre from a
professional standpoint. As the Japanese zombie film is largely un-researched,
especially in regard to industry and reception, these forms of primary documents are
integral to the development of this study.
Interviews
According to Sally A. Hutchinson and Holly Skodal Wilson (2006, 521), the
interview “is a major data collection strategy in qualitative research that aims to
obtain textual, qualitative data reflecting the personal perspective of the
interviewee”. Due to the lack of extensive critical and academic knowledge on the
subject of Japanese zombies, a series of interviews was performed to add depth of
understanding to the thesis. The interview responses provided a stronger
understanding of the cultural specificity of the Japanese zombie film genre, namely,
why certain artistic and creative choices were made, as well as the interplay between
Introduction 27
them and the traditional Western zombie film genre. The interviews were semi-
structured and, therefore, primarily involved “a set of predetermined open-ended
questions” (Crabtree and DiCicco-Bloom 2006, 315) and combined with open
dialogue to facilitate the emergence of further questions on the subject. The
questions undertaken in these interviews are in Appendix B.
The interview subjects for this study represented a range of directors, writers,
producers and special effects artists involved in some of the most popular
contemporary Japanese zombie films and are detailed below in Table 1. The bulk of
interviews were conducted during a February 2014 research trip to Japan to attend the
Yubari Fantastic Film Festival, with the help of Marc Walkow, an American producer
who acted as a translator during the festival. Any interviews that were not conducted
during this time were undertaken via email with the key informants.
Table 1: Interviews and correspondence with filmmakers

Filmmaker Film Role/involvement/details
Noboru Nuigulumar Z (2013) Director and Writer
Iguchi Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead Director and Writer
(2011) Actor
Helldriver (2010)
Yoshihiro Hello Zombie (2014) Special makeup effects
Nishimura supervisor
Nuigulumar Z (2013) Moldmaker supervisor
Director, Editor, Writer,
Zombie TV (2013) Producer, Character
design.
Special makeup effects
Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead supervisor, character
(2011) designer
Special makeup effects
supervisor, Director,
Helldriver (2010) Editor, Writer, character
designer
Ghost Zombie (2007) Special makeup effects
supervisor
Yoshikazu Zomvideo (2011) Crew
Ito
Hajime O is for Ochlocracy (2014) Short film in ABCs of
Ohata Death 2
Director and writer

Challenges for the study
Issues can arise for a researcher studying empirical phenomena outside their own
culture or, more specifically, within the context of this study, when applying
preconceived ideas and knowledge of one national cinema to another. Eurocentrism,
as described by Miike (2006, 5), “is a universalist ideology … derived from
European experiences and contexts are, more often than not, framed and projected as
universally applicable”. Occidentalism, on the other hand, can be broadly defined as
“Orientalism in reverse” (Al-Azam quoted in Leservot 2011, 118). Where
Orientalism is a “highly charged” (Macfie 2014, 4) term referring to “a more general
(and especially aesthetic or cultural) interest in the Orient” (Gregory, Johnston &
Pratt 2009, 513) from a mainly Western perspective, Occidentalism reverses this
perspective and, instead, can be defined as “essentialising simplifications of the
West” (Carrier 1995, 3), which can facilitate non-Westerners with “discursive ways
… to appropriate the West” (Leservot 2011, 118). All three terms—Eurocentricism,
Occidentalism and Orientalism—are politically and socially charged concepts that
reduce the area of study to stereotypes, “partial views” (Macfie 2014, 4) and
equivalencies. They necessitate, by definition, an outsider’s perspective of the area
of study and for the study to be engaged against a dominant or alternative
perspective. This is a challenge that this study acknowledged early on. The study of
zombie films is inherently American. Many of the key academic focuses of the
subject, such as the return of the repressed, the abject, consumerism, the terrorist
attacks on September 11, are also inherently linked to American audiences. A key
tension surrounding study into another culture’s national cinema is the concern that
the study will lean more towards a prescriptive focus; thus, rather than describing the
genre or cinema as it exists, it instead cites “what ought to be the national cinema”
(Higson quoted in Higbee and Hwee Lim 2010, 8). To reiterate an earlier point,
“American cinema has traditionally been the paradigm of genre cinema, and thus
American horror and horror have become interchangeable” (Och and Strayer 2014,
3).
This issue is not unique to the present study. In many major fields, from psychology
and anthropology to business and economics, this issue has arisen and raised
questions on the legitimacy of a study’s findings. Though referring to psychology in
Introduction 29
particular, Richard W. Brislin (2007, 217) raised a critical problem within cross-
cultural studies that can be evidenced across many different fields. The crux of the
issue involves instrumentation “designed, pretested, revised, calibrated” (Brislin
2007, 217) in one culture (A) being used to evaluate a different culture (B). The
issue, states Brislin (2007, 217), is that the conclusions reached using these
instruments “can be false and misleading” since what is considered typical in one
culture may be completely irrelevant to another. In terms of this particular study, the
zombie film in the West is often examined through a psychoanalytical lens.
However, the question must be asked, if psychoanalysis does not have a place or role
in Japanese society, then does it have a place in the analysis of their zombie films?
Another issue surrounding cross-cultural study are the rigid perspectives often
associated with different cultures. Cultures are “not a monolithic, fixed, neutral or
objective category” (Kubota 1999, 11) to be compared against another culture.
Ryuko Kubota (1999, 11-12) notes that within the field of applied linguistics, a clear
dichotomy is often presented to compare Japan against the US. Where Japanese
culture is considered to be “traditional, homogeneous, and group orientated, with a
strong emphasis on harmony”, American culture is defined using labels such as
“individualism, self-expression and critical thinking”. These distinct and rigid
definitions, which regard both cultures as static and homogeneous, may allow for a
general comparison to be made between the two; however, they exclude the
existence of minorities or sub-cultures and, by setting up such a clear distinction,
lead to definitions of one as the right and one as the wrong culture.
There are various ways to avoid these common challenges. Brislin (2007, 217)
suggests psychologists utilise an “emic–etic” approach within their research. This
requires a two-pronged approach; first, looking distinctly at an individual culture (the

emic) and then broadening out to a cross-cultural view (the etic). One approach
suggested by Kubota (1999, 26) for ESL (English as a Second Language) classes was
the pluralist model, which “respects cultural differences and promotes rhetorical
pluralism in mainstream English-speaking discourse communities by allowing
students to express their voices in their own cultural mode of expression”. This
study’s broad approach to avoid generalisations or prescriptive analysis is to conduct

the analysis through a transnational lens. This allows for an examination that is not
“constrained by traditional cultural or cinematic binaries” (Och and Strayer 2014, 2).
However, as Will Higbee and Song Hwee Lim (2010, 10) clearly state, “(it) would
be naive to assume that the transnational model does not bring with it boundaries,
hegemonies, ideologies, limitations and marginalisations of its own kind”. It is for
this reason that the present study engages with the subject on three levels: the
transnational/industrial context, cultural influences and generic content. These three
areas allow for an encompassing view that looks at the subject on a smaller localised
level while also broadening out to a transnational level.
Furthermore, the interviews in this study are critically important to remaining closely
engaged with the subject. The interviews with filmmakers, cast and crew involved in
multiple Japanese zombie films add an individual and cultural glimpse into the sub-
genre, rather than simply breaking them down generically as they appear against
Japanese films and Western zombie films. It contextualises the films and their
production space and, therefore, they avoid being reduced to a conceptual or
theoretical understanding. Furthermore, the interviews themselves were uniquely
relevant to the challenge of a cross-cultural comparative study. The interviews took
place in Japan in February and March of 2014, primarily at the Yubari International
Fantastic Film Festival, with the help of a translator. This environment allowed a
glimpse into the relationship between these filmmakers and the Japanese film culture
with which they engage and that is considered on the fringe of mainstream Japanese
cinema.
The language barrier

Although the author speaks basic Japanese, and the use of translators overcame any
language barriers during the interviews while in Japan, an issue to contend with was
the language barrier in terms of accessing DVDs. Not all Japanese zombie films are
made with an international release in mind; therefore, some films do not include
either English subtitles or dubbed editions. Of the films available with these features,
accessing copies in Australia was often difficult. During the research trip to Japan in
2014, Japanese zombie film DVDs were purchased where available. Within
Australia, DVDs were also purchased from traditional video stores like JB Hi-fi and
Introduction 31
DVD King. Titles were also purchased or viewed online via international websites
like Asian Horror Films and a selection of Japanese zombie films was also viewed
via YouTube.
By locating films from a variety of physical and digital sources, a much broader
range of films was attained than would have otherwise been possible. However, the
language barrier hampered the ability to access newly released Japanese zombie
films, such as Nuigulumar Z (2013) and Zombie TV (2013). At the time of writing,
these two films have made the film festival circuits and have been released on DVD
within Japan. However, they are not yet available in English-subtitled formats, either
physical or digital. As two of the newest zombie films to be released in Japan, the
inability to examine these films did provide a hurdle to the primary analysis in
Chapters 5 and 6. However, as the films have been extensively reviewed
internationally at several film festivals, and subtitled trailers are readily available
through YouTube, they have been included in the wider discussion on Japanese
zombie films.
Selecting films for analysis

This thesis, by its very nature, necessitated the viewing and analysis of a diverse
range of often obscure Japanese zombie films. In an attempt to develop an
understanding of the corpus of contemporary Japanese zombie movies produced, a
complete list of Japanese zombie films released between 2000 and 2014 was collated
from various film databases (see Appendix A). This full list of films was sourced
from a combination of the Japanese Film Database, or JFDB (http://www.jfdb.jp/en/)
and the Zombie Movie Database (http://www.zmdb.org/). Movie titles sourced from
ZMDB and JFDB have subsequently been cross-referenced with data/records found
on professional film blogs, academic articles and books and key informants based
within Japan.
Due to issues related to the language barrier and the necessity for the films to be
subtitled in English, the pool of films available for analysis was smaller than the
actual number of Japanese zombie films made. These issues meant that smaller
independent films were difficult and, in some cases, impossible to obtain. However,

this did not hamper the study’s ability to view and examine some of the more
significant and successful zombie films produced in Japan. Furthermore, the
limitation that precluded many of the obscure titles from being viewed was overcome
through a critical engagement with secondary sources and critical reviews, as well as
interviews with key informants related to the sub-genre and who shared details about
the many zombie films that have been produced in Japan, as well as others currently
under development.
Research design
Pulling these strands together, the primary analysis chapters and correlating research
methods applied to produce these insights are presented in Table 2 below.
Table 2: Primary data and alignment of research questions and research

methods
Chapter Five Chapter Six
Research question RQ1, RQ2 and RQ3 RQ1 and RQ3
(RQ) addressed
Data collection Interviews Interviews
methods Generic/textual analysis Generic/textual analysis
Document analysis Document analysis
Chapters 5 and 6 present the key primary findings of this study. Each chapter
incorporates interviews, genre and textual/document analysis to investigate the
research questions associated with this study. Chapter Five draws heavily upon
textual and generic evidence from key Japanese zombie films to explore not only
how the Japanese zombie film interacts with traditional Japanese horror conventions
and characteristics and Western zombie conventions, but how unique thematic and
aesthetic elements are created within the Japanese zombie film. This chapter has a
heavy focus on the generic qualities of the Japanese zombie sub-genre and utilises
interviews with key informants within the Japanese zombie and horror genres to
support the textual and generic evidence.
Chapter Six focuses primarily on an industrial approach to the Japanese zombie sub-
genre, exploring the generic traits through the key elements of cult cinema. It
combines textual evidence from key Japanese zombie films, with interviews from the
Introduction 33
directors and writers involved in these films and reviews of Japanese zombie films to
produce an intricate exploration into the Japanese zombie film from the cult
perspective and how this effects how the sub-genre sits within Japanese horror and
the Western zombie genres.
Chapter breakdown
The rest of the thesis comprises three chapters that have context setting and
analytical intent, two findings chapters, and the concluding chapter.
Chapter Two presents a historical, cultural and generic account of the Western
zombie film. It provides an account of the evolution of the Western zombie from its
early cinematic origins in the 1930s to the latest post-millennial iterations, exploring
the subject in terms of defining characteristics. Iconic films of these eras delineate
the academic frameworks typically used to explore Western zombie films. The
chapter then explores the Western zombie film in terms of its generic components,
breaking the post-millennial film down into key conventions, such as the cause of the
zombie outbreak, to the role of consciousness and the setting of the outbreak.
Chapter Three begins with a breakdown of national and transnational concepts and
current scholarship. From there it explores the relationship between transnationalism
and genre as it applies to Japanese horror cinema through an examination of regional
markets, co-productions, remakes and cultural adaptations. It concludes by briefly
examining these concepts in relation to the Japanese zombie film.
Chapter Four examines the historical, industrial and cultural influences of the
Japanese horror film to situate the Japanese zombie film in the following chapter. It
explores the role of the Allied occupation and Japanese theatre traditions in the
Japanese horror genre, and offers a thorough investigation of the aesthetic and
stylistic conventions of Japanese horror cinema from the early daikaiju monster films
to the techno-horror of the early 2000s and the yurei ghost films that have been
adapted and remade in Hollywood with great success.

Chapter Five, the first findings chapter, builds on the discussion in the previous
chapters and examines the rise of the zombie in Japanese cinema. Beginning with a
historical presentation of Japan’s experience of the genre, it illustrates the Japanese
zombie film in terms of the origin of the zombie threat and the appearance and
cognitive ability of the zombie.
Chapter Six, the second findings chapter, shifts the discussion of Japanese zombie
films into the realm of cult cinema. It looks at Japanese zombie films by way of
Ernest Mathijs and Xavier Mendik’s (2008) checklist of cult cinema concepts, from
the prevalence of transgression and gore to the inclusion of allegory within the genre.
Chapter Seven provides a discussion of the analysis presented in the previous chapter
and compares Japanese and Western zombie films and the implications for horror
scholarship. It also concludes the study by outlining the contribution of the study to
the field of horror movie scholarship and delineates areas for further research.
Introduction 35
Chapter 2: The History and Characteristics of the Western Zombie
Movie
The zombie is a highly malleable monster and one that has been altered and reshaped
by numerous filmmakers since its introduction to cinema in 1932. This chapter is
concerned with the zombie cinematic genre as it exists in the West. This chapter
unpacks the Western zombie in terms of its cinematic evolution and key analytical
frameworks applied by scholars, and breaks down the contemporary zombie genre
into its defining narrative and generic conventions and elements. This chapter
develops a discussion that contextualises analysis of the Japanese zombie movies and
sub-genre in Chapters 5 and 6.
The horror genre and monsters
When people describe the appeal of the horror film, they often compare it to riding a
rollercoaster, as both the film and the ride thrill, excite and terrify or, as James B.
Twitchell categorises, both rollercoaster and horror film enthusiasts will “patiently
line up and wait for the privilege of being pummelled, squeezed, bruised, and most
of all, terrorised” (Twitchell 1985, 73). Though audiences would “rarely like to bring
to the surface” (Thompson 2006, 28) the deep-seated fears and anxieties that the
horror film depicts, it remains among one of the most popular cinematic genres. It is
the assertion of Twitchell (1985), Linda Badley (1995) and Noel Carroll (1990),
amongst others, that in viewing the metaphorical incarnation of their greatest fears
on screen they achieve catharsis. Examining the broader experience, Carroll (1990,
201) establishes that the experience of watching a horror film opens up a cultural
space in which “the values and concepts of the culture can be inverted, inversed, and
turned inside out.... it allows the opportunity for thoughts and desires outside the
culture’s notions of acceptability to take shape.” More specifically, Twitchell,
writing in 1985, examines horror viewing not so much as a cathartic process, but as a
crucial release for adolescents to “discharge...pent up energy that, unless released,
threatens to implode into neurosis” (Twitchell 1985, 77).

One of the common techniques used within the horror film to project the fears and
anxieties of a specific culture is through the presentation and subsequent
deconstruction of the body in film. A “key natural symbol” (Tudor 1995, 25), the
body is represented in the horror genre because, along with genres like musicals and
comedies, the “body spectacle and movement...all work by moving bodies of viewers
or readers to similar reflexes” (Badley 1995, 36). In horror, the body typically falls
under the control of the antagonist and it is “burst, blown up, broken, and ripped
apart...disintegrates or metamorphoses... dismembered and dissected” (Carroll 1990,
211). The corporeal destruction in horror films returns focus to the body itself and its
vulnerability; thus, “use of the body is made meaningful to its audience because it is
consistent with contemporary experiences of disorder and incoherence in social life”
(Tudor 1995, 39). By disrupting the stability of the body, the stability of other
aspects of life is equally thrown into doubt.
Though violence against the body is a predominant feature within the horror film,
“(it) is not an end in itself but a means of staging metamorphosis” (Jerslev 1994, 18).
The depiction of the body in horror films is concerned with the breaking of
boundaries, both physical and metaphorical, and is tied intrinsically with the concept
of the monster. Twitchell states that “the etiology of horror is always in dreams while
the basis for terror is in actuality” (Twitchell 1985, 21) and Carroll (1990, 16)
broadens this idea by exclaiming that unlike a fantasy or fairy tale narrative, where
the monster is “an ordinary creature in an extraordinary world”, the horror monster
implies a consecration of the ordinary, a “deviation from the common course of
nature” (Shildrick 2002, 11). The horror monster, whether it is a vampire, werewolf,
zombie or serial killer, are frightening and disturbing because they are “transgressive
and transformative” (Shildrick 2002, 4), straddling the boundaries between good and
evil, monstrous and human, self and other (Boon 2007, 34). Kevin Alexander Boon
(2007, 33) states that the “etymological roots of the monstrous imply a boundary
space between human and non-human...the imaginary region that lies between being
and non-being, presence and absence”. His article “Ontological Anxiety Made Flesh”
states that the term “monstrous” is intrinsically connected to humans; therefore, the
abnormality or unnaturalness of the monster compared with the human form is
deemed monstrous specifically because it “threatens the purity of the human
The History and Characteristics of the Western Zombie Movie 37

form as that form was intended by whomever or whatever is presumably responsible
for the universal design” (Boon 2007, 34). Margrit Shildrick (2002, 17) builds upon
Boon’s assertion with the statement that the fear and disturbance associated with the
monster are not simply derived by holding a mirror up to society; rather, she suggests
that they do not physically representing the boundaries, but “promise to dissolve
them” (Shildrick 2002, 11).
The monster is perhaps the most overt depiction of the horror genre’s ability to
embody repressed fears and anxieties because it is the physical incarnation of the
aforementioned repressed fears. Robin Wood (quoted in Schneider 2000, 173) states
that “horror film monsters are best understood as metaphorical embodiments of
paradigmatic horror narratives and, as such, are capable of reconfirming surmounted
beliefs by their very presence”. The role of monsters as “meaning machines”
(Russell 2006, 8) able to embody cultural fears and anxieties stems from the true
nature of the term, considering that the Latin roots monstrere and monere mean “to
show” and “to warn” (Shildrick 2002, 12). They are “a warning embodied in the
monstrous form” (Boon 2007, 33) and capable of challenging the audience in their
mode of thinking (Schneider 2000, 178).
The zombie threatens audiences because, whereas they are recognisably human, they
“cannot be reasoned with, appealed to, or dissuaded by logical discourse” (Bishop
2009, 20), unlike monsters like the vampire or werewolf, which retain a more
sympathetic persona due to their ability to articulate thoughts and be presented as
misaligned monsters. Boon believes that the zombie is the most accurate
representation of the monster since it is with the zombie that “death is given agency”
(Boon 2007, 34), which triggers the human survival instinct. The zombie embodies
“physical corruption, thus reminding us of our own mortality” (Boon 2007, 34) and
this representation of corruption means that “zombies cannot be corrupted
themselves” (Boon 2007, 35). We pose no real threat to them, but their presence is a
constant threat to humanity as a whole, and to our individuality and sense of self.

The Western zombie, a monster and a genre
As previously discussed, though the zombie’s folkloric roots originate in Haiti,

cinematically the zombie has long been considered an American monster.
Fundamental, though, was the 1968 Romero film Night of the Living Dead, which
strengthened both the popularity of the zombie and the ties between the genre and
America as the “home” of the monster. Romero combined the zombie with a
cannibalistic ghoul to create a monster that could be utilised as a metaphor for a
litany of specifically American or Western concerns:
Basically, anything that evoked de-individualization on a mass or epidemic

scale – consumerism, communism, conservatism, conformism, Vietnam,
civil rights, viral epidemic, the Silent Majority, mass media, Homeland
Security, reality TV—could be projected onto the infinite blankness of the
living dead (Pevere 2013, NP).
However, while films such as Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead (Dir:
George A. Romero, 1978) and Return of the Living Dead (Dir: Dan O’Bannon, 1985)
were gaining popularity in America, zombie films were also being produced outside
of the United States. The zombie had a brief spell of popularity during the 1960s in
Mexico, where professional wrestler El Santo would battle against all manner of
superhuman and supernatural enemies in a film series. The zombie was a recurring
monster in the El Santo films, appearing in the 1962 film Santo Contra los Zombies
(Santo vs. the Zombies. Dir: Benito Alazraki), one of the earliest films in the series
that included Santo and Blue Demon against the Monsters (Santo y Blue Demon
Contra los Monstruos. Dir: Gilberto Martínez Solares, 1968). Similarly, the United
Kingdom, France, China and Spain made attempts between the 1950s and 1970s to
recreate the genre with mixed results. While the UK and Spain had success with the
films The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue (1974) and Tombs of the Blind Dead
(1971), respectively, the zombie genre was never successful in establishing a generic
tradition such as that created in the United States. The lone exception to this,
however, was during the 1980s, when the United States was joined by a
“concentrated group of filmmakers” (Kay 2008, 101) in Italy who established Italy as
the primary source of zombie films outside of the United States (Kay 2008, 101).

The popularity of the Italian zombie movie is largely attributed to the cult success of
the unofficial Dawn of the Dead remake, Zombi 2 (1979), directed by Lucio Fulci.
The film borrowed greatly from Romero’s original in terms of plot, story and tropes,
down to mirroring Dawn of the Dead’s original tagline: “When there’s no more
room in hell the dead will walk the earth” with their own, “When the earth spits out
the dead ... they will return to tear the flesh of the living” (Vuckovic 2011, 78).
However, as with the rewritten tagline, the intense approach to gore and violence is
one of the critical aspects separating the Italian zombie film from the American
genre in the 1980s. The dirty, worm-eaten and decomposed Italian zombies created a
gory tradition that has been brought back in the current revival of zombie films both
within America and internationally.
Nevertheless, as pointed out previously, recent estimates suggest that there has been
strong growth in zombie movie production since 2000 (Drezner 2010, 2) and
America remains the primary producer of both lower-budget independent titles and
higher-budget blockbusters. While the production of zombie movies from
international production systems is increasing and leading to a new level of diversity
in zombie films, this trend has yet to be adequately examined in academic
scholarship.
Defining the zombie

Arriving at a single definition of “zombie”, which is at the core of the sub-genre, is
complicated. The definition adventurer William Seabrook, in his book The Magic
Island (1929), still works as a broad exemplar for the genre:
A soulless human corpse, still dead, but taken from the grave and
endowed by sorcery with a mechanical semblance of life—it is a dead
body which is made to walk and act and move as if it were alive (Seabrook
quoted in Russell 2006, 12).
However, it does not succeed in defining the many variations of the zombie that now
exist in cinema. The zombies in Warm Bodies and World War Z were not “endowed

by sorcery”, nor are the zombies in 28 Days Later or [Rec] dead bodies made to
react as though alive. Twohy’s (2008, 4) definition of zombies as a “slow,
reanimated, flesh-hungry corpse usually occurring within a mob of other slow,
reanimated, flesh-hungry corpses” fits well with zombies created from the Romero
mould, but does not acknowledge the earlier non-cannibalistic voodoo zombies or
the fast, and often times alive, contemporary zombies, defined here as “
hyperzombies”. While the following section will make clear that the zombie has
many guises, it will refer to the three most prolific of Western zombie archetypes.
The first is the “enslaved zombie”, sometimes referred to as the voodoo zombie due
to its close relationship to the Haitian origin of the monster. The second is the
“Romero zombie” and encapsulates the vast majority of zombie films produced
between the late 1960s and today. The final is the fast zombie, hereafter referred to
as the “hyperzombie”, which is a contemporary archetype introduced to the sub-
genre in the early 2000s.
The enslaved zombie

Defining the zombie frequently depends on the decade or era of a movie’s release. In
the earliest cycle of zombie movies, the zombie was represented more as a slave than
a monster. William Seabrook, mentioned above, is credited with introducing the
Western world to the zombie after writing about the year he spent in exotic Haiti,
home of mysticism and voodoo. His book captivated audiences with its daring
accounts of zombies and bewitching vodoun priests, or witch-doctors, and became
the basis for the first Hollywood zombie film, White Zombie (1932). Speaking on the
popularity of both the book and the film, David (1988, 73) said “to Americans in
particular, Haiti was like having a little bit of Africa next door. Something dark and
foreboding, sensual and terribly naughty”. Starring Bela Lugosi and directed by
Victor Halperin, White Zombie made US$8 million dollars at the US box-office
(Russell 2006, 22) on a budget of US$62,500.
Scholars Jamie Russell (2006) and Bishop (2010) attribute the popularity of the
Hollywood monster movies in the 1930s to the economic strife of the Great
Depression. In Haitian folklore, the zombie is described as an “individual who has
been magically brought to his end, only to be magically resuscitated, to be led away

to a life of enslavement” (Vuckovic 2011, 22). It was the fear of a life spent working
in the plantations, a “loss of physical liberty … and the sacrifice of personal
autonomy implied by the loss of identity” (Davis 1985, 138) that made the zombie
such a foreboding monster to the people of Haiti and, once it made its way to the
silver screen, to the American worker as well.
Life in America during the Great Depression was difficult and “many of the
moviegoers in the 1930s were likely suffering sporadic, menial jobs or facing
unemployment” (Bishop 2010, 75). It is little surprise then that the zombie, a
monster who is similarly forced to work endlessly without recompense, “resonated
with the beleaguered crowds” (Bishop 2010, 75). The zombies, referred to in this era
of film as enslaved zombies, were rarely depicted as monsters. Though they looked
the part of the monster, white faced with eyes hollowed out in black makeup, they
posed no threat unless they were ordered to cause harm (Russell 2006, 22). The men
pulling their strings, voodoo sorcerers and evil plantation owners, were the real
sources of evil in these movies, utilising their zombies as henchmen to grab them the
girl or possession they desire. Mirroring the lack of control many American felt at
the time as “the economic strings were being pulled by faceless, frightening forces ...
if the force had a face, it was likely to be that of zombie-master Bela Lugosi,
commanding you mesmerically” (Skal 1993, 169). The zombies, however, were
“reifications of despair and hopelessness, no more than cogs in the mighty
machine themselves” (Dendle 2007, 47).
As the genre grew and the threat of economic disaster waned, the threat of the
voodoo priest in films such as I Walked with a Zombie (Dir: Jacques Tourner, 1943)
was exchanged instead for alternative threats. As the 1950s approached with fears of
nuclear weapons and the Cold War, voodoo sorcerers changed instead to men and
creatures that better reflected this fear of invasion and attack. Primarily the enslaved
zombies found themselves the henchmen to invading aliens (Invisible Invaders,
1959) and mad scientists hungry for power (The Scotland Yard Mystery, 1934).
Regardless of who was wielding the power, the thesis of the film remained the same;
these men or creatures of power displaced “one person’s right to experience life,

spirit, passion, autonomy and creativity for another person’s exploitative gain”
(Dendle 2007, 48).
The Romero zombie and psychoanalysis

Though the zombie has lived many different lives, it is Romero’s shambling and
cannibalistic ghoul that most people would identify as a zombie when asked. It was
Romero who “liberated the zombie from the shackles of a master, and invested his
zombies not with a function (a job or task such as zombies were standardly given by
voodoo priests), but rather a drive (eating flesh)” (Dendle 2001, 6). While the
Romero zombie is not the sympathetic monster that the enslaved zombie was, a level
of familiarity between the audience and the zombie is what resonates and, in this
case, causes the fear. In several of Romero’s films, a character utters the phrase
“they’re us” (Vuckovic 2011, 64) as they catch a glimpse of humanity in the
monsters. It is in this simultaneous state of recognition and revulsion that Romero’s
zombie exists. Romero chose to focus on the horror that exists within us all and is
capable of breaking through. As Kim Paffenroth (2006, 9) states, “(the zombie’s)
monstrous state is their human state, it never transforms or goes away”.
Romero’s choice to direct the threat inward challenges “the distinction between the
living and the dead, the normal and the monstrous” (Russell 2006, 69) and, in fact, it
is through the zombie that “death is given agency” (Boon 2007, 34). The Romero
zombie is designed to confuse and conflict because, while they may look like us,
they are fundamentally different both physically and cognitively. Though the
decaying figure before you was once family or a friend, the bonds of the living mean
nothing to the dead. The zombie represents “physical corruption, thus reminding us
of our own mortality” (Boon 2007, 34); however, as they are already dead they
“cannot be corrupted themselves” (Boon 2007, 35). Ultimately, although we may
share many similarities with them, the power lies not only with the zombie who has
the potential to not only threaten humanity as a whole, but also to our own personal
identity and understanding of self.

The abject
Identity, states Julia Kristeva (1982, 4), requires stability and order. If the boundaries
between life and death, for instance, are shaken or disturbed so that “the in-between,
the ambiguous, the composite” (Kristeva 1982, 4) is revealed, we experience what
Kristeva termed, “the abject”. As a species, we steer clear of human waste because it
is the refuse that our body has already expelled; similarly, if we were to encounter
human intestines or a bone protruding from the skin, then we would be repulsed
because it disrupts our concept of a healthy life (Kristeva 1982, 3). These reactions
are a result of the natural boundaries we as human beings set to keep ourselves safe.
The zombie is, as Simon Pegg (2004, NP) writer and star of Shaun of the Dead
states, “our own death, personified”. Because the Romero zombie and, in many
cases the enslaved zombie, is literally a corpse that continues to live as it decays, it is
one of the best visual representations of the abject. The zombie is rarely seen as a
complete human; rather, they often have broken and missing limbs or organs
considered vital to our survival. They will continue to crawl and snap at a living
person even if they are missing their body below their waist, such as the zombie in
The Walking Dead, or missing an arm as seen in Zombieland. To see a zombie is to
see “one’s own dismembered body” (Jerslev 1994, 19) and to observe the self
“dehumanised as the mass on the one hand and, on the other, the body in pieces, the
self as assembly of disparate parts” (Badley 1995, 74).
In the television show The Walking Dead (2010–current), the zombies decay further
as the series progresses. As figure one illustrates, when a zombie from a season
one episode (Figure 1, left) is compared with one from season five (Figure 1,
right), a progressive deterioration is evident.

Figure 1. Evolution of the zombie in The Walking Dead
Source: (left) Frank Darabont. 2010. “Days Gone Bye” The Walking Dead. (Television program, November 5).
(Right) Ernest R. Dickerson. 2014. “Coda” The Walking Dead. (Television broadcast, December 1).
In the first season the zombies remained remarkably human, primarily only showing
signs of the bite or wound that caused them to change into a zombie in the first place.
By season five, however, their bodies showed the ravages of time, as they had very
little flesh left so their skin stuck tightly to the bone. In season five’s second episode,
“Strangers”, they encounter a small group of waterlogged zombies that show some of
the series’ most gruesome makeup work as the water has greatly sped up their
decomposition. They are an unflinching look at the “breakdown of body boundaries”
(Tudor 1995, 28) and an undeniable reminder of the fragility and fallibility of the
body and the self. Bishop (2010, 117) argues that “they are not merely the harbingers
of death; they are iconic representations of Death itself”.

However, it is not simply the decay of the zombie body that confronts the viewer
with the abject. It is also the interplay between the zombies and the living humans.
As the zombies tear at a living human with their hands, the survivors tear at the
zombies with guns and knives. These attacks show “the violent capacities
fingernails, teeth, knives and bullets have” (Bishop 2010, 138) on both the living and
the dead; however, it is only to the living that these attacks do harm. The zombies
demonstrate the “unnatural state between animation and decay” (Bishop 2010, 132):
they force one to acknowledge “the horror of one’s body continuing on after ‘I’ am
gone” (Wetmore 2011, 14). When faced with the realities of the body in death, one
is forced to acknowledge that the body is not the indestructible and safe home for the
self that was assumed. The zombie is empowered with the ability to “erase
signification, gender, desire and sexuality” (Jerslev 1994, 19) with a single bite,
further emphasising the fragility that comes with identifying the self through
corporeal existence.
The uncanny
Discussion of the abject, particularly in reference to the zombie, is often

accompanied with a discussion on Sigmund Freud’s concept of unheimlich, or
the uncanny. The uncanny refers to the experience of witnessing something that
is simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar; it is, “that class of the frightening
which leads back to what is known of old and long familiar” (Freud 2001, 62).
Carroll (1990, 175) specifies the uncanny as “a hidden, familiar thing that has
undergone repression and then emerged from it”.
As with the abject, the zombie provides a clear example of this concept. Within the
world of a zombie film, the audience is presented with “a world in which humans
and monsters become very hard to distinguish” (Paffenroth 2006, 10). In the decayed
face of the enemy, both the living characters and the audiences cannot help but
recognise themselves and these concurrent feelings lead to an unpleasant feeling of
familiarity and unease. Freud (2001, 76) describes the uncanny as a situation that
causes a person to “doubt as to which his self is, or substitutes the extraneous self for
his own ... there is a doubling, dividing and interchanging of the self”. Furthermore,
many zombie narratives (Night of the Living Dead, Shaun of the Dead, The Walking

Dead, Dawn of the Dead) exacerbate this feeling of the uncanny by reuniting one of
the protagonists with a zombie version of a loved one. Night of the Living Dead, in
particular, was preoccupied with the destruction of the family and the presumption of
safety that it implies. Set within a family home, the film presents two different
familial relationships, the sibling relationship between Barbara and Johnny and the
traditional nuclear family, with parents Harry and Helen Cooper and their daughter
Karen. Both families were forced at different points to confront a loved one who had
transformed into a zombie and in each case the living family member succumbed to
their zombified loved one because they could not accept that the person they knew
and loved had gone. Though they maintain their outward appearance and signifiers
of identity in terms of clothing, hairstyles and makeup, the zombies’ “inner identity
has been erased and homogenised” (Wetmore 2011, 14), and it is the inability to
adequately accept and accommodate this uncanny combination that leads many
human characters in zombie films to their deaths.
Developed from this initial understanding of the uncanny, Russell (2006, 57) sees
this inability to divorce the past version of a person with their grisly present as a
reflection of guilt. Russell (2006, 57) believes that when the two characters meet, the
living character is confronted with a person “we loved, but were unable to save from
the inevitable end;” the animosity of the zombie towards their living loved one is
their revenge for this failure. From this interpretation it is possible to deduce that this
is why the Romero zombie switches from an aimless automaton to a frenzied
monster when it crosses paths with a living person. Their desire for revenge against
past “misdemeanours and transgressions” (Russell 2006, 57) propels them to “gain
strength and furiously tear out the insides, or take large bites out of the flesh of their
victims (Richardson 2010, 133).
The diverging models of the contemporary zombie

The current renaissance of zombie filmmaking has resulted in a great level of
experimentation in regard to the zombie archetypes. While some films, such as
Undead (2003), Zombieland (2009), The Horde (2009) hold firm to the Romero
model in terms of appearance, origin and speed, other films such as Fido (Dir:
Andrew Currie, 2006) choose instead to reach further back and present a modern

retelling of the enslaved zombie narrative. However, breaking from tradition entirely
is the hyperzombie. Though this zombie resembles the Romero archetype on several
subtextual levels, namely, the fear of invasion from within and the fears of the abject
and uncanny, it diverges from the Romero zombie in terms of its appearance and
nature. Where the Romero zombie took a person and stripped it of its identity and
independence (Dendle 2007, 54), the hyperzombie is stripped of its last remaining
humanity. Instead of a shuffling corpse that attacks people within range, the
hyperzombie is animalistic in its speed, aggression and insatiability (Russell 2006;
Dendle 2007; Wetmore 2011). They are, as Kevin J. Wetmore (2011, 149) explains,
“not only aggressive but appear enraged. These are not the hungry dead, they are the
angry dead.” While the Romero zombie was only a real threat in close quarters, the
hyperzombie is impossible to predict and appears without notice.
Scholars such as Paffenroth (2006), Bishop (2010) and Wetmore (2011) often link
the current renaissance of zombie films to the September 11 terrorist attack in the
US. They refer to the sudden and unpredictable event as a precursor to similar events
within the contemporary zombie film. The hyperzombie and the spread of the zombie
outbreak within these films are both fast and difficult to contain, and decimate entire
cities within days or weeks. When Jim (played by Cillian Murphy) wakes up in 28
Days Later, it is to a London that is unrecognisable. Gone are the crowds funnelling
through the narrow streets and the noises of endless traffic; instead, these visions are
replaced by rubble and rubbish-littered streets that show no suggestion of life.
Depicting a different form of the uncanny, Jim is unsettled by the sight of this
familiar environment rendered completely foreign. This unfamiliarity is only
exacerbated in the next scene, in which he is pursued by a horde of hyperzombies
who are recognisable as men and women yet, like the city around them, are
completely unrecognisable as well. A similar scene is presented in the 2013 film
World War Z. While driving the family through downtown Philadelphia, the Lane
family are stuck in traffic. In a matter of moments, they shift from telling jokes and
singing to the radio to witnessing people run past their car in fear. With no time to
react, the zombies are running through the traffic and attacking people both inside
and outside of cars. As Wetmore described above, they are enraged to the point that
one zombie repeatedly throws itself headfirst into a car in an attempt to attack the

people within. The sudden attack of the zombies and complete destruction of large
cities in these movies mimic the “lack of control, dignity, direction” (Dendle 2007,
54) of terrorist attacks, such as the September 11 attack.
However, as Peter Dendle (2007) and Russell (2006) point out, this wave of
destruction and decimation is also comparable to modern fears of “biological
warfare, chemical attacks and viral outbreaks” (Russell 2006, 179). The
hyperzombies themselves are often the result of a similar outbreak. The zombies in
28 Days Later were caused by a virus that was being tested on lab monkeys to
eliminate rage and the zombies in the remake of Dawn of the Dead (Dir: Zach
Snyder, 2004) were similarly the result of medical testing gone wrong. The zombies
in the film Quarantine (John Erick Dowdle 2008) spread because of a bite from a
rabid dog. As with the terrorist analogy, these attacks are as sudden as they are
decimating. They are no longer relegated to a single farm house as they were in
Night of the Living Dead; instead, the contagion spreads across the world by way of
air travel and infects major population centres before anyone is aware that a problem
exists.
While the hyperzombie is easily identifiable as a contemporary addition to the canon

of zombie archetypes, a similar trend has begun that moves in the opposite direction.
Where the hyperzombie is fast and impersonal, this cognitive model focuses entirely
on the humanity of the zombie. Rather than depict the zombie as an animal or a
monster, films such as Colin (Dir: Marc Price, 2008), Warm Bodies (Dir: Jonathan
Levine, 2013) and Life After Beth (Dir: Jeff Baena, 2014), suggest that death and a
person’s subsequent un-death are not the end. These films suggest or outright depict
zombies not as unthinking or unfeeling monsters, but people who cannot control
their instincts. This shift in depiction is immediately recognisable; unlike the more
traditional zombie films, the zombies in these films retain their names and, in many
cases, these names are included in the titles.
In Life After Beth, Beth’s parents are rocked by the premature death of their
daughter; however, soon after her funeral she returns home with no memory of the
week since she died. Though a little worse for wear, particularly around the snake

bite that caused her death, Beth acts and appears to be her usual self. However, as the
film progresses and Beth’s hunger for flesh grows, it becomes apparent that she
returned as something more than regular Beth. In this particular instance, the film
ends with Beth dying a second time; however, the thrust of the film, like many
zombie films, is a narrative of adaptation and survival. However, unlike films in
which the zombies are the clear threat, this trend of films in which zombies maintain
consciousness after their transformation shifts the narrative to one where living
characters choose to adapt and survive with the zombies rather than in spite of them.
If the Romero zombie is “all body; they have brains but no minds” (Shaviro 1993,
99), then this new trend of zombies could perhaps be considered instead as “all mind,
trapped in a body”.
At the time of writing, the representation of the zombie in Japanese film as a

conflicted monster depicted in this way is still relatively new to cinema. However, it
does have a stronger presence in literature, particularly books written for young adult
audiences. Warm Bodies, originally a young adult novel published in 2010, is joined
with titles such as Handling the Undead (2005) by John Ajvide Lindqvist,
Generation Dead (2008) by Daniel Waters, The Returned (2013) by Jason Mott and
The Girl with All the Gifts (2014) by M. R. Carey. As with many earlier iterations of
the zombie film, these films are primarily preoccupied with “the search for identity”
(Ostrey 2004, 224). However, where the Romero zombie “suppressed identity to
conflict with the metamorphosed surface” (Tudor 1995, 33), many of these novels,
and the films they inspire, instead look at it from the perspective of discrimination
and marginalisation. Speaking of Daniel Waters’s Generation Dead series of books,
Joni Richards Bodart says,
Waters looked at the zombie books and movies from the past, and it seemed
to him that their scariness came from the fear of being assimilated into a
faceless, mindless horde, of losing one’s individuality and identity. Today
this has been replaced to some extent by the fear that an individual can make
him or herself as unique as possible and still not have anyone care …Teens,
with their lack of power to impact the adult world around them, can easily
identify with these ideas as well (Bodart 2011, 180).

Contemporary zombie conventions
The contemporary zombie breaks from tradition in many ways. In a world where we
can access information, money and technology within seconds, a slow and shambling
zombie can easily be regarded as an anachronistic remnant of the past. Similarly,
when approximately 100,000 planes take off and land every day (Pollack 2013, NP)
the threat of unknown infections spreading across the world is a reality that previous
generations did not have to consider, let alone fear. The world we live in means that
the contemporary zombie is not the same as the enslaved or the Romero zombie,
although it may share a great number of traits with them. The following section will
look at how contemporary life has impacted and changed the conventions of zombie
films, as well as examine what these conventions are.
Source of the outbreak
The cause of the zombie outbreak can vary from film to film; however, there is often
a commonality between films from a particular market cycle or historical period.
What this suggests is that the films are influenced by the cultural fears and concerns
of the day. During the early iterations of the zombie film, the cause conformed to
Haitian folklore: an evil voudon priest or corrupt landowner would use voodoo to
enslave the woman of their dreams or the beleaguered workers. Meanwhile, in the
1950s and 1960s while Cold War fears raged on, the contaminant was often from a
foreign source, such as invading aliens or government experimentation. For instance,
in Night of the Living Dead (1969), the cause of the zombie virus is loosely
attributed to radiation on a returning space probe, whereas in Invisible Invaders
(1959), the zombies are the freshly dead bodies inhabited by an invisible alien race
intent on destroying the human race.
Since the renewed interest in the zombie genre, the source of infection has taken on a
more scientific vein. Many earlier films were ambiguous in the cause of the
outbreak, falling into line with George A. Romero’s opinion that, “what matters is
that it’s there. It is like any other disaster, and people are just failing to respond to it
in an effective way” (Garnett News Service 2008). However, many of the zombie

films released post-2002 not only provide an explanation for the cause of the
outbreak, but the resulting narrative hinges on it. In 28 Days Later, Britain is overrun
by zombies infected with a blood-borne virus, caused by scientific tests conducted to
eliminate rage from the human condition. Even in a film such as [Rec] (2007), which
suggests the possibility of demonic possession as the cause of the contamination, the
film interprets the virus as a rabies-style infection and frames the film as a quarantine
lock-down while health officials investigate the cause of the “disease”. Whether the
cause has an integral link to the narrative such as the two prior examples, or is
simply a throw-away line about an old sandwich, such as in Zombieland (2009), a
large portion of contemporary zombies can be traced back to an accidental or
intentional virus or infection. Bishop suggests that these origins are directly related
to the twenty-first century paranoia of infectious diseases, whereas Stephanie Boluk
and Wylie Lenz (2011, 6) believe that the contemporary mode of zombie infection is
about reconfiguring the myth “in the light of emerging scientific discourses that tap
into deeply felt post-AIDS, SARS, bird flu and H1N1 anxieties”. The zombie, argue
Boluk and Lenz (2011, 6), “has been rationalised and assigned a pathology”.
Speed
Since the zombie regained prominence in public awareness in the early 2000s, a
debate between audiences and filmmakers alike regarding their speed has continued.
When released in 2002, Resident Evil and 28 Days Later showed the two sides of the
argument. Resident Evil’s zombies, though a result of biological experimentation,
featured slow and lumbering zombies—mimicking the style of the Romero zombie.
The zombies in 28 Days Later, on the other hand, were fast, aggressive and
inhumanly strong, and while similar depictions had existed previously in disparate
examples, they varied starkly from the archetypal depiction of the slow-moving
zombie most familiar with audiences. These movies also arguably popularised the
fast-moving zombie for mainstream western audiences. Both movies were enormous
successes, and both serve to demonstrate the comparative styles that embody the
contemporary Western zombie film.
The hyperzombie is an invention of the contemporary zombie genre. Though the
speed is often tied to the cause of the infection, such as the rage virus-fuelled

behaviour of the zombies from 28 Days Later, a prominent consideration was the
necessity to reignite a genre that had been tempered greatly in the previous decade.
Zack Snyder, director of the Dawn of the Dead remake, has stated that he chose to
make his zombies capable of great speeds because “it’s not so easy to make fun of a
faster ghoul” (Mogk 2011, 26). Similarly, Paul W. S. Anderson, who has directed
three of the five Resident Evil films, believes that the genre “has to evolve, it has to
be different” (Anderson quoted in Woerner 2012, NP). Though Anderson has
progressed from showing slow to faster, more intelligent zombies in his franchise, he
modelled them closely, in terms of costumes, makeup and prosthetics, on the
zombies in the Resident Evil videogames, which showed a similar evolution over the
various iterations of the game.
The hyperzombie is predominantly seen in films that utilise the scientific mode of
infection. As depicted in films such as 28 Days Later and World War Z, the
hyperzombie may not technically be dead but they are incapacitated to the extent that
they retain little to no connection to the individual they once were. There are varying
levels to the speed of these zombies; they may be, as in 28 Days Later, running as
fast as humanly possible, or they may be like the zombies in the 2004 Dawn of the
Dead remake and exceed human speeds, insomuch as they can keep up with a
speeding car as it tries to escape the zombie horde.
These hyperzombies are largely absent from the narrative until an action, such as a
character yelling or breaking a bottle, brings them running in waves, overwhelming
the surviving humans. This diverges from earlier models, in which the zombie was
often seen plaguing the streets or backyards and dominating screen space where the
film was set. For instance, in 28 Days Later, after waking up in a ravaged and empty
hospital, Jim walks through an empty London until he is suddenly set upon by a
horde of enraged zombies when he stumbles into a church that serves as their resting
spot. Within seconds, the quiet streets are filled with the guttural growls and
stamping footsteps of the zombies, and Jim only survives by the narrowest of
margins, thanks to the help of Selena (Naomie Harris) and Mark (Noah Huntley).
This style of scene is repeated in many films featuring the hyperzombie, and the
survivors are constantly aware of the persistent danger that threatens them. However,

other than taking the obvious precautions to ensure they are not placed in the
position of being somewhere without an easy exit, there is little they can do to
predict or avoid the zombie attacks.
Furthermore, though their speed is often the defining characteristic of this modern
zombie archetype (referred to as the hyperzombie from here), speed is merely one
aspect of this new breed of zombie. Along with their speed and the scientific cause of
infection, a defining characteristic of this zombie is their rage and aggression. Dendle
(2007, 54) states that it is no longer the “homogeneity ... that scares us ... it is rather
the lack of control, dignity, direction that scares us”. In the movie adaptation of
World War Z, the zombies were the culmination of 10 years of contemporary zombie
mythology. They were fast, aggressive and moved and behaved less like humans and
more like animals. In an interview with Entertainment Weekly, visual effects
supervisor John Nelson described the World War Z zombies (or Zs) as “predatory”
(Nelson quoted in Boucher, 2012). Nelson explained that when working on the film
Gladiator (2000) he worked with tigers and “if you watch them when a horse goes
by they go batty, even if they know they can’t reach it. When Zs [zombies] see
humans they do the same thing, they activate. They launch themselves” (Nelson
quoted in Boucher 2012, NP).
While the hyperzombie is becoming increasingly predominant in contemporary

zombie films, there is a resistance against it from fans of the genre regarding its
inclusion in zombie films. Fans of the Romero model of film argue that the
hyperzombie is incongruous with the zombie mythos. Pegg (2008, NP) argues that
hyperzombies are not zombies because “Death is a disability, not a superpower. It’s
hard to run with a cold, let alone the most debilitating malady of them all”. However,
as described above, the hyperzombie is rarely dead. Instead, the dead zombies
typically retain the traditional Romero characteristics, thus retaining the logic that
Pegg describes while the living status of the hyperzombies allows for them to
experiment with the human form and capabilities of the zombie. Whereas earlier
cycles of zombie films, such as those popular in the 1960s and 1970s, featured either
the traditional voodoo style of zombie or the Romero zombie, the options today are
much more encompassing. As illustrated in Figure 2, ‘Taxonomy of the Dead’ was

created by Bishop (2010, 20) for his book American Zombie Gothic. It charts the
various forms that the zombie can now take, blending traditional variations with the
more contemporary inclusions to the genre.
Figure 2. “Taxonomy of the Dead”
Source: Bishop, K. W. 2010. American Zombie Gothic: The Rise and Fall (and Rise) of the Walking
Dead in Popular Culture. North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc.
The slow zombie is not simply a reminder of the genre’s traditional roots or fodder
for a comedy zombie film. It alters the movie’s events and purpose. While the
hyperzombie mounts a frenetic attack that quickly overwhelms and is reminiscent of
the spread of diseases like H1N1 across the globe, the slow zombie is more relentless
and claustrophobic in their attack. The slow, or traditional zombie, can still be found
across many high quality film and television productions, from Shaun of the Dead to
The Walking Dead. Though they are slow and often clumsy in their movement, they
are still as deadly as their faster counterparts. However, because of their stumbling
slow speed, surviving humans in the film often let down their guard or believe they
can get away until suddenly it is too late. As Pegg (2008, NP) explains, “However
(and herein lies the sublime artfulness of the slow zombie), their ineptitude actually
makes them avoidable, at least for a while. If you’re careful, if you keep your wits

about you, you can stave them off, even outstrip them - much as we strive to outstrip
death”.
Consciousness
Though many elements central to the zombie sub-genre are in contention – fast
versus slow, dead vs. alive, supernatural vs. scientific—the zombie’s lack of
consciousness has been a consistent syntactic generic element for the majority of
zombie films. When defining the zombie, academics such as Dendle (2007, 47–48)
describe fundamental nature of the zombie to be “at the most abstract level ...
supplanted, stolen or effaced consciousness”, expanding further to state that the
zombie film centres on “the displacement of one person’s right to experience life,
spirit, passion, autonomy, and creativity for another person’s exploitative gain”.
Similarly, Bishop (2006, 201) describes the characteristics of the zombie as
precluding speech and consciousness: “they are essentially superficial, two-
dimensional creatures”. Boon (2007, 36) goes on to state that its lack of
consciousness is more integral to the zombie than its relationship with death, arguing
that “zombies cannot retain a sense of self – a unique, human consciousness ... you
can have a zombie who is not actually dead, but you cannot have a zombie that
retains its sense of identity”.
As alluded to previously, in spite of the general consensus that zombies must be

devoid of consciousness to be zombies, in recent years several films have
experimented with imbuing varying levels of consciousness and functionality in their
zombies. The recent release of the book and film, Warm Bodies, is the most popular
example of this in contemporary film; however, it is not alone in instilling a sense of
self and morality, along with heightened motor skills, into the zombies. Describing
his choice for creating zombies with a consciousness, Warm Bodies author Isaac
Marion said that he thought it was strange that zombies had never really been given a
voice, as “they’re actually former humans and you would think whatever thoughts
remain in their warped brains would be fairly interesting” (Marion quoted in
Zombies World 2012, NP). Within Marion’s narrative, the zombies consume the
brains of living humans to acquire a flash of their memory and achieve a high-like
effect because “having no identity or memory and just this vague sense of loss for

your humanity, experiencing fresh, warm memories would be the ultimate comfort
food” (Marion quoted in Zombies World 2012, NP). As the narrative progresses, the
zombie protagonist “R” regains more human-like characteristics as he grows closer
to his love interest, Julie.
Joining Warm Bodies, films such as Shaun of the Dead (2004), Fido (2006), Resident
Evil: Retribution (2012), and the majority of George A. Romero’s zombie films have
displayed varying levels of zombie consciousness and functionality. In Resident Evil:
Retribution, a new species of zombies has evolved in tandem with the shambling
walkers that were prominent in the first films, due to a parasite known as Las Plagas.
In the film, this parasite causes you to look like you are a zombie; however, you “still
have a level of intelligence and motor skills” (Anderson quoted in Woerner 2012,
NP). These “zombies” are able to wield weapons, ride motorcycles and cause a new
level of menace to the film’s protagonists. However, while these zombies are able to
mimic human skills they are still controlled by the parasite, which in turn is attached
to a controlling corporation and, thus, they still conform to Dendle’s (2007,
47) definition of “supplanted, stolen or effaced consciousness”. Similarly, though the
zombies in Shaun of the Dead align with the Romero model of shambling,
cannibalistic ghouls, at the conclusion of the film, Shaun’s friend, Ed (now a
zombie), is shown enjoying a videogame in the pair’s garage. He is still shackled and
clearly maintains the zombie desires for human flesh, but he is also depicted as being
very similar to his pre-zombie self.
Romero is often cited as the godfather or grandfather of the modern zombie film
genre. However, since his third film, Day of the Dead (1985), he has experimented
with evolving the zombies back towards the state of the living. Day of the Dead
experimented with a single zombie, Bub, who began to show recognition for human
artefacts, such as telephones and began to form relationships with the scientists who
worked with him. By the time Romero returned to the zombie genre in 2005, he
furthered this idea of an evolving consciousness and motor skills to a larger scale. In
Land of the Dead, a film that portrays the living and the undead humans as two
distinct class systems, two characters watch the zombies who live beyond their city
walls. One man remarks, “They’re pretending to be alive”, to which the other replies,

“Isn’t that what we’re doing? Pretending to be alive?” (Romero 2005). Under the
leadership of the zombie Big Daddy, the zombies take a stand against the oppressive
humans who continue to exterminate the zombies and exclude them from the city.
Though the zombies are unable to communicate or vocalise their desires and
thoughts in the traditional sense, the film continually shows that they are able to act
either out of some form of muscle memory or developing consciousness. By
Romero’s most recent film, Survival of the Dead (2009), the focus of the film is
wholly on reintegrating the zombie into modern society. Taking place on a small
island, the living inhabitants are searching for a cure to the zombie contaminant so
they can return their loved ones to their living state. Although their cure fails, the
film closes showing a zombie female choosing to attack a horse rather than a human,
suggesting that the future could be one in which both zombies and living humans
survive alongside one another. In all of his films, but especially the final four,
Romero asks whether the zombies ever truly stopped being humans.
Setting
The limited setting within a zombie film has become both one of its defining
conventions and also an attractive incentive for filmmakers looking to produce a film
on a small budget. Many of the zombie films in the 1970s and 1980s were confined
to a single setting, most often either a house or a solitary building, which the zombie
horde would slowly crowd in on. Most famous of these are the Romero-helmed
productions of Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead, which took place in
an empty farm house and shopping centre, respectively. These settings acted as a
pressure cooker for dramatic tension, forcing a small band of survivors—often
strangers—to interact, and come into conflict with one another in a confined space
which resulted in colliding philosophies and survival strategies to a point that the
zombie threat became a secondary concern for the survival of the living.
Contemporary zombie films, as was typical of earlier cycles of zombie films, are set
against the end of the world, either as a result of the spread of zombies or the
culminating effect of economic, environmental and political issues. In these films,
“the rigid structure of society proves little help; human survivors are left to their own

devices with no real hope of rescue or support” (Bishop 2006, 202–203). In
contemporary zombie films, these small and confined settings remain; however, the
films are just as likely to venture outside into the infected world as keep their
characters confined to small rooms. More specifically, contemporary zombie films
shift between small and claustrophobic spaces to wide outdoor expanses to
emphasise just how alone the survivors actually are.
In 28 Days Later, it takes less than a month to decimate all of London and turn it into
a bleak and empty city. This was inspired by, and conjures up images of, the
devastating after-effects of a city destroyed by natural disasters, terrorism or war. As
the protagonist, Jim, makes his way through the empty streets after waking up in an
empty hospital, the imagery of locations typically shown full of people, now empty
and devoid of life and activity, serves to emphasise the lack of humanity that these
contemporary zombie films depict (Wetmore 2011, 147).
World War Z (2013) is perhaps the best example of this contemporary setting.
Though Brad Pitt’s character Gerry travels from America to Korea to Israel to the
United Kingdom and has multiple key scenes in expansive settings, such as airport
runways, Welsh woods and atop Israeli city walls, much of the action takes place
when the characters are trapped or restricted in apartment building fire escapes or on
a commercial airline, mimicking the traditional confined spaces that force characters
to deal with each other and the zombies in much tighter quarters.
Characters
One aspect of the zombie genre which surprisingly has not changed significantly
since the 1960s, is characterisation. Though there are occasional films, such as World
War Z, that look at the outbreak from a position of power and expertise, most are
concerned with how average people struggle to come to terms with the world that
they know is dissolving around them. While they are placed within extraordinary
positions, they rarely become extraordinary themselves; that is, they are not
“superheroes or professional monster slayers ... they are common, average folk
forced to ‘step up’ and defend themselves” (Pegg quoted in Bishop 2006, 202–203).

There are several archetypal characters that continually appear in zombie films: the
leader, the opposing leader, the mother, the sacrifice and the innocent. They derive
from Carl Jung’s character archetypes, most specifically that of the hero, the
caregiver, the warrior and the trickster. Not all of these archetypes will be present in
every zombie film; however, they are the characters who are most recognisable and
integral to the continuation of the zombie genre, especially in regards to the current
popularity of the survivalist narrative popular in mainstream Western zombie films.
As Bishop (Quoted in Maloney 2013, NP) explains, these characters are important as
a group because “the zombie narrative’s whole point is that an individual can’t
survive. It has to be a group, a collective, and even then, odds are, they’re gonna
die”.
The leader is typically the protagonist or lead character in the film. Similar to Jung’s
hero, it is his role “to go on a journey of transformation” (Singh 2014, 152). More
often than not this character will be a male who held a leadership role in the pre-
zombie world, for instance Sheriff Rick Grimes in The Walking Dead television
series. The leader will direct the group, suggesting survival plans, foraging schedules
and resolving problems; although they may be accepted as leader, they will
frequently be the source of friction and discord in the group. The leader is often an
optimist, believing that “where there is a will, there is a way” (Woodruff 2014, NP).
They are rarely the popular character within the context of the group, but they accept
this role anyway because they feel obliged to take it either because they know they
have the best chance of leading the group to survival or because they are trying to
protect their family or a loved one.
The opposing leader, or beta leader, will be the primary source of conflict within the
survival situation. Their opinion will be contrary to the group’s leader, and they will
fight to obtain the position of leader throughout the film. In Night of the Living Dead,
the middle-aged father, Harry, frequently butts heads with Ben, the African–
American group leader. He challenges Ben on how they should fortify the house,
argues about whether upstairs or the basement is safer and eventually separates from
the group entirely. The actions of the opposing leader will usually lead to some form

of catastrophe and, in the case of Night of the Living Dead this is the death of Harry,
his wife and child. However, the opposing leader does not simply need to be a
contrary force within the group. In 28 Days Later there are several conflicts within
the small group as they make their way through London, but the true opposing force
comes in the form of Major Henry West (Christopher Eccleston). While at first
glance they see the army as saviours, they find that the men’s barbarism, aggression
and attempts to assault the two female characters conflict with their group’s ethics
and are forced to take drastic measures to escape from their grasp. In these cases, the
opposing leader often forces the protagonists to question who the real monsters are.
In terms of Jungian archetypes, this character type is a mix of the jester, destroyer
and warrior. Though their actions may seem selfish or destructive, they serve to
contradict the hero and, in that contradiction, emphasise the correct path. Without
them, the hero and leader would likely be unable to find their way (Jonas, ND).
The mother role may be a literal or metaphorical mother. She will typically be an
older female whose main role is to anchor the group’s humanity. However, older
male characters, such as Hershel in The Walking Dead, can also be described as
embodying this particular archetype as they are protective and consider the welfare
of the group as their highest priority. As the group’s caregiver, they “first seek to
help others, which they do with compassion and generosity” (Jonas, ND). She will be
the voice of reason when the group talks and discusses options, often opposing
violence or preferring the option that keeps the majority of characters safe. On
occasion this character will also be the leader, as demonstrated in the Dawn of the
Dead remake, in which Ana (Sarah Polley) occupies both roles, providing the
warmth and humanity of the mother figure while also making the tough decisions
needed from the leader. In the case of characters like Ana, her mothering role is
precipitated by the loss of her child during the first wave of the zombie attack.
The sacrifice is not always identifiable at the start of the film. They are rarely a
primary character, although they may be a popular secondary character whose death
is not expected. Ultimately, they are a character who chooses to sacrifice themselves
to the zombies to help the remainder of the group survive. They may have suffered
an injury that holds them back as they run from a horde, or they decide to stay with a

sick or injured group member even though it drastically reduces their own chance of
survival. There will often be a showdown scene in which they try to take down as
many zombies as they can with a single gun or weapon before the horde swarms
over them and they are never seen again. This archetype shares many characteristics
with that of the mother or caregiver of the group. Driven by a desire to help and
fierce protectiveness, “a risk they take is that in their pursuit to help others they may
end up being harmed themselves” (Jonas ND).
In Night of the Living Dead, Barbara embodies the role of the innocent. After seeing
her brother attacked by a zombie and coming face to face with the masticated forms
of the farmhouse’s previous inhabitants she goes into a catatonic state and devolves
to the status of a little girl. She is unable to defend herself or contribute to the
discussions and arguments and requires the support and protection of the rest of the
group. Because “the innocent has a strong sense of faith and optimism about the
world” (Woodruff 2014, NP), most contemporary zombie films instead use a child as
the innocent character, as seen in 28 Days Later, Zombieland, World War Z, Resident
Evil, The Walking Dead and [Rec]. As children, they are unsuited for protecting
themselves, and their existence in this apocalyptic setting always seems the most
unfair. The group will come together to protect the innocent and shield them from the
more unpleasant aspects of survival; however, the work required to protect the
innocent character often causes conflicts between the leader and group members who
are scared for their lives and fear that they will have to sacrifice themselves in the
child’s stead.
Conclusion
The zombie movie is a sub-genre built on conventions; however, it is also one that is
constantly in flux. Throughout its 80 years, the zombie has been built into a monster
with indelible ties to its cinematic birthplace, the United States of America.
Scholarship into the zombie genre has inevitably been focused on the various ways
the zombie is analogous for American society and the fears and concerns of the
American public. This is evident through the framing of the contemporary zombie
genre against the backdrop of the September 11 terrorist attacks, as well as the focus

of Western analytical concepts, such as psychoanalysis, to unpack the genre. Some of
these academic frameworks and concepts are not transferrable to the Japanese
zombie films; thus, it is important to frame the zombie as it exists in film and
scholarship in the West for us to contextualise how the genre has been adapted in
Japan. The next chapter builds upon this by interrogating the concept of transnational
film and genres and describing the industrial context of Japanese cinema.

Chapter 3: Transnationalism, the Japanese Film Industry and
Genre
This chapter is divided into two conceptual halves: first, it discusses and establishes
key ideas around the concept of transnationalism and how Japanese horror cinema
can be understood as a transnational production system; second, it examines key
issues in relation to genre and cultural transfer. In so doing, the discussion situates
Japanese horror cinema within the context of a transnational global production
system and ideas associated with two-way cultural flows and how genre functions
across national boundaries. The Japanese zombie film, as a Japanese interpretation of
a Western genre, is a product of transnationalism and, as such, the literature
examined within this chapter will formulate the background upon which to further
investigate the Japanese zombie film as it relates to both Japanese and international
influences.
Since the release of the first Japanese film in 1899 (Costanzo 2014, 258), Japan has
developed a reputation as a robust producer of films. As film gained popularity
during the 1920s and 1930s Japanese studios such as Nikkatsu and Shochiku were
producing approximately two new films per week (Freiberg 2000, 13).Audience
attendance numbers rose in relation to the growing popularity of film, rising from
approximately “153,735,449 (first recorded attendance figures) in 1926 to
244,389,636 in 1934” (Freiberg 2000, 13). As well as being strong film producers,
Japanese studios restricted the distribution and exhibition of international films and
primarily showed them in double billed screenings with Japanese films (Freiberg
2000, 14). As a result, Japanese films earned the majority share of the local box-
office until 1984 when international – primarily Hollywood blockbuster - films
overtook Japanese movies in the domestic market (MPPAJ 2014) and maintained
this position until 2008.
However, as this chapter will explore, there is a marked difference between the
classic era of Japanese cinema, from the 1920s to the 1950s, and the contemporary
Japanese film industry. These differences occur on a variety of levels, such as the

shift away from the top-down studio system previously employed in Japan to the
current industry prevalence of studios focusing on the distribution rather than
production of films, resulting in a greater number of independent films. Furthermore,
while Japan once again occupies the majority share position at the local box-office,
(Schiling 2013), there has also been a rise in collaborative productions both within
Asia, such as the Three … Extremes co-production with South Korea and China, and
further abroad, primarily in the form of Japanese titles, chiefly those within the J-
horror genre, being remade in Hollywood with the involvement of Japanese
directors, casts and crew (Unijapan, 2009)
The growing sub-genre of Japanese zombie films is indicative of this shift within the
Japanese film industry. On a production level, the Japanese zombie film reflects the
strength of the Japanese film industry as these films are largely populated with
Japanese cast, crew and financiers. However, on a textual and intertextual level, the
sub-genre has clear ties to Western movies, conventions and styles. Before
examining the textual ties between the Western and Japanese zombie films in
chapters five and six, as well as the uniquely Japanese generic traits of this sub-genre,
this chapter will produce a background to contextualise the industrial environment
within Japan and the surrounding areas, as well as the current state of horror cinema
and international film production practices.
National cinema
It has been argued that films, regardless of their specific genre or political intent, are
“shaped by the social and historical constellations within which, and for which, they
are made” (Ko 2006, 129). The most defining of these is “national” identity. In terms
of film studies, this concept of a national identity in the form of a national cinema is
used “as a means of understanding production, consumption and representation of
cultural identity” (Higbee and Hwee Lim 2010, 8) and to identify “formal, thematic
and cultural commonalities within their defined boundaries” (Van Der Heide 1995,
213).
Writing on the subject of cultural exchange, Tom O’Regan (2008, 281) maintains
that “a national identity is always produced in relation to its ‘others’”. Building upon
this, Higson points out that:
Transnationalism, the Japanese Film Industry and Genre 65

On the one hand, a national cinema seems to look inward, reflecting on the
nation itself, on its past, present and future, its cultural heritage, its
indigenous traditions, its sense of common identity and continuity. On the
other hand, a national cinema seems to look out across its borders, asserting
its difference from other national cinemas, proclaiming its sense of otherness
(Higson 2006, 18).
However, as borders between cultures and countries continue to fade and blur with
the advancement of technologies and economic, political and social developments,
discussing cinema primarily within the scope of national cinema becomes more
problematic. It is the nature of film to travel across boundaries, whether those
boundaries are economic, linguistic or cultural, artificial or physical (O’Regan 2008,
262). This in turn leads to “audiences, critics and filmmakers appropriate(ing),
negotiate(ing), and transform(ing)” (O’Regan 2008, 262) cinema in a myriad of
different ways. No national cinema is exempt from cultural exchange to some extent
and, as such, the discussion of a national cinema is complicated by this interaction.
Furthermore, concerns that scholarship on national cinemas tends to be prescriptive,
“citing what ought to be the national cinema, rather than describing the actual
cinematic experience of popular audiences” (Higson quoted in Higbee and Hwee
Lim 2010, 8), have led to the proliferation of alternative theories, such as
globalisation and transnational theory.
Transnationalism
Globalisation, cultural adaptation and hybridity
Globalisation, in its simplest form, “refers to the process and context of the world
becoming integrated” (Shim 2005, 26). It is “facilitated, but not caused by”
(Vertovec 2009, 2) advancements made in technology, transportation and
communication, which allow for an international sharing of economic, political
and social ideas and structures. Urry (quoted in Vertovec 2009, 2) states that
globalisation cannot be viewed as pertaining to one of these ideas; instead, “it is

viewed as all of these things, taking the form of multiple, complex, messy
proximities and interconnections”.
Under the broader umbrella of globalisation, cultural adaptation is understood “to

refer to the reorganisation and rearrangement of popular culture, entertainment,
consumption, creative design and the like on a large, even global, scale to fit the
needs of particular situations, peoples, places and times” (Moran and Keane 2009, 2).
‘Glocalisation’, or the ‘glocal’ is a strategy “seemingly opposing forces of
globalisation/localisation and homogenisation/heterogenisation are subtly combined”
(Iwabuchi 2010, 410). Traditionally, this amalgamation involved adapting American
media forms to non-American conditions; however, the increase of connectivity
across the globe in the twenty-first century has shifted this dynamic, and increasingly
there are “‘glocal’ cultures” (Rego and La Pastina 2007) forming through the shared
media flows in areas such as Eastern Europe and Latin America, or in reverse of the
traditional linearity, such as from China or India back to America.
Hybridity is one of the fundamental results of cultural adaptations and globalisation.

Historically, the term ‘hybridity’ was used to discuss “the process of cultural mixing
where the diasporic arrivals adopt aspects of the host culture and rework, reform and
reconfigure” (Hutnyk 2005, 81) those adopted aspects to create a new identity. When
discussed by scholars such as Homi Bhabha, this adaptation is seen as a departure
from the original cultural form or as a form of camouflage (Bhabha 1994), aligning it
closely with post-colonial theory. However, there is a growing school of thought that
sees hybridity as a broader construct; that is, as an “evocative term for the formation
of identity” (Hutnyk 2005, 79), with positive implications of innovation, creativity
and expression.
In discussing the rise of popular culture in South Korea, Doobo Shim acknowledges
the post-colonial basis of hybridity, but also states that
hybridity reveals itself as new practices of cultural and performative

expression. For example, locals appropriate global goods, conventions and

styles, including music, cuisine, cinema, fashion and so on, and inscribe their
everyday meaning into them (Shim 2005, 27).
In this context, hybridity is akin to transformation or evolution and develops from

“an unexpected combination of human beings, cultures, ideas, politics, movies,
songs” (Rushdie quoted in Shim 2005, 36). Furthermore, rather than dampen local
identity, as previous incarnations of hybridity theory have suggested, Shim (2005)
states that hybridity that occurs as a result of globalisation “works towards sustaining
local identities in a global context” as it necessitates the interaction between local
and global agents and encourages the local group to “construct their own cultural
spaces” (Shim 2005, 38). Shim uses this particular concept of hybridity to explain
the wave of popular culture products, primarily pop music but also film, which
occurred in South Korea during the 1990s and allowed these industries to receive
international attention for the first time (Shim 2005) and create powerful new
cultural groups nationally.
However, as a concept globalisation is often feared to more realistically result in the

homogenisation of local culture, particularly by dominant first-world countries such
as the United States. Arguments made against globalisation highlight the
“inequalities it feeds off and generates, and the unequal power relations it masks”
(China Review 2004, 2). More specifically, anti-globalisation rhetoric often suggests
that the dominant culture spreads across the world and forces weaker countries to
conform to their economic, political and social influence (Shim 2005). O’Regan
(2008, 268) maintains that studies have indicated “largely one-way cultural flows
from the richer to the poorer, from the developed to the underdeveloped, from the
North to the South, from the English language to other languages, from the larger
language groups to the smaller ones, from the US to the rest of the world” (O’Regan
2008, 268).
Transnational definition and concepts
In response to globalisation’s controversies, scholarship within this area has shifted

from a focus on a linear understanding of the relationship between “producer (West)
and receiver (and the rest)” (Georgiou and Silverstone 2007, 33) to one which is

more encompassing as a growth across national and cultural boundaries made up of a
“complex terrain of multi-vocal, multimedia and multi-directional flows” (Thussu
2007, 10) continues to find footing in the “global media landscape” (Thussu 2007,
10).While globalisation takes on a broader context:
…routinely applied to any and every process or relationship (political, social,

cultural or economic) that crosses a national boundary, the transnational ... is
more attuned to the scale, distribution and diversity of such exchanges and
their impact at a local level as well as an understanding that they may have
effects within and beyond the nation-state (Higbee and Hwee Lim 2010, 12).
In relation to cinema, transnationalism remains a broadly disseminated concept.

Transnationalism was born from the “impossibility of assigning a fixed national
identity to much cinema” and, instead, “gives rise to films whose aesthetics and
narrative dynamics, and even the modes of emotional identification they elicit,
reflect the impact of advanced capitalism and new media technologies as
components of an increasingly interconnected world-system” (Ezra and Rowden
2006, 1). Higwee and Hwee Lim (2010, 8) further explain the shift towards
transnationalism as a means of “understanding production, consumption and
representation of cultural identity (both individual and collective) in an increasingly
interconnected, multicultural and polycentric world”. Importantly, as
transnationalism is concerned with the crossing and erasure of borders, both literal
and figurative, it is suited to producing a “subtler means of understanding cinema’s
relationship to the cultural and economic formations that are rarely contained within
national boundaries” (Hwee Lim and Higbee 2010, 9). Ultimately, transnationalism
embodies both a specificity and ambiguity, when used as a concept, allowing for a
discussion about “various types of flow across national boundaries” (Pence and
Zimmerman 2012, 496) while also being ‘burdened’ with historically accumulated
tensions that have constantly reshaped and contested the concepts of nation and
national cinema” (Kim 2009, 6).
Typically, transnationalism is “associated with a fluidity of constructed styles, social
institutions and everyday practices” (Vertovec 2009, 7).

Japanese cinema, the region and transnationalism
Japanese cinema and the film industry

As Japanese cinema has continued to gain international presence since the late
1960s, Western scholarship on Japanese cinema has grown. Many commentators
who have written about Japanese cinema have focused on the cultural traditions,
aesthetic, and narrative forms that are indicative of Japanese cinema (Russell 2011,
Richie 1971, Phillips and Stringer 2007, Weisser andWeisser 2003). While these
issues are critical and defining aspects of Japanese cinema, and some of these
forms, such as theatrical influences on early Japanese cinema, will be discussed in
the following chapter, the discussion here focuses specifically of structural features
of the Japanese film industry.
During the 1990s and early 2000s, foreign films captured the lion’s share of box-
office earnings in Japan (Schiling 2013, NP). Movies from franchises such as Harry
Potter (Dir: Chris Columbus, 2001), Spiderman (Dir: Sam Raimi, 2002) and Shrek
(Dir: Andrew Adamson, 2001) continually topped the Japanese box-office, out-
earning other Japanese films released during the same period. In 2004, four of the top
five films at the Japanese box-office were foreign imported releases (Japanese
External Trade Organisation/JETRO, 2005) and 29 of the 339 foreign films released
that year earned over 1 billion yen in box-office takings.
While foreign films accounted for approximately 60 percent of the box-office

revenue in Japan (JETRO 2005) in 2004, this was the first sign of a refocussing
towards Japanese film at the box-office. This marked a three-year-high for Japanese
films at the box-office, as the local share of the box-office hovered closer to 30
percent of total earnings in 2002 and 2003. This suggested a swing back towards a
Japanese film presence at the box-office. Most importantly, in 2006, Japanese films
outperformed foreign films at the local box-office, taking 52 percent of box office
revenue (Schiling 2013, NP). Though only by a small margin, this figure represented
the first time in 21 years that Japanese cinema had captured over 50 percent of the
local box-office market (Schiling 2013, NP). By implication, this point in
contemporary history also marked the first time local films had been more popular at

the box-office than foreign imports. Since 2006, the Japanese cinema’s share of the
domestic box-offices has made further gains, earning 59 percent of box-office
revenues in 2008 and 64 percent in 2012 (UniJapan 2009; Schiling 2013).
Consequently, this has established Japan as the dominant cinema in the domestic
marketplace in terms of the share of the local box-office.
In addition to domestic growth, Japanese cinema has continued to grow

internationally over the past decade. As Japanese films were gaining ground
domestically, Japanese films such as Howl’s Moving Castle (Dir: Hayao Miyazaki,
2004), Ichi the Killer (Dir: Takashi Miike, 2001) and Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence
(Dir: Mamoru Oshii, 2004) were released into worldwide markets. Howl’s Moving
Castle was released in over 50 countries (JETRO 2005) and was dubbed into English
with an A-list cast that included actors such as Billy Crystal, Christian Bale and
Lauren Bacall. Anime remains one of the more prominent exports for Japan ranging
from wide releases to smaller cult markets (Film Victoria 2010). In 2004, the anime
exports ranged from Studio Ghibli, films such as Howl’s Moving Castle and Spirited
Away, to films adapted from anime or manga series, such as Cowboy Bebop (Dir:
Shinichirô Watanabe, 2001) and Pokemon Heroes (Dir: Jim Malone and Kunihiko
Yuyama, 2002), and original animation projects, such as Tokyo Godfathers (Dir:
Satoshi Kon and Shôgo Furuya, 2003).
As an indication of the overseas influence and dominance of Japanese cinema,

remakes of Japanese films for English-language markets also increased during this
period. JETRO’s 2004 report acknowledged 10 Japanese films that had either already
been remade or were in pre-production for a Hollywood remake. Though there was
some generic diversity amongst of the films released, such as the US remake of the
drama–comedy Shall We Dance (Dir: Peter Chelsom, 2004), eight out of the ten
films listed were from the horror genre. Interestingly, whereas the two non-horror
adaptations were from much earlier decades, all of the planned horror adaptations
were to be made within a couple of years of their initial Japanese release.
Japan has long been dominated by studio-produced films. The three primary
producers, Schochiku, Toei and Toho, have a particularly tight control over the

Japanese market as they control not only film production but also distribution and
exhibition as well (JETRO 2005). As a result, in 2008, these three primary producers
accounted for approximately 83% of Japanese films’ box-office revenues (UniJapan,
2009). However, while they controlled the commercial success of the box-office,
they were only responsible for the production and/or distribution of 74 of the 418
Japanese films released in 2008.
Regional markets
During the late 1980s and early 1990s, Asia went through a process of “media
liberalisation” (Shim 2005, 28) that spread across China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Japan
and South Korea (Yoshimoto 2006). As well as interacting more frequently with
Western filmmakers, media producers and audiences, there was an increase in
collaboration between neighbouring countries. As a result, it became more difficult
to identify the nationality of the films produced within this region, and the
homogenised terms “Asian cinema” and “Asian horror” were adopted by Western
scholars to describe content within a diverse range of countries as a whole (Teo
2013; Byrne 2014). However, the term “Asian cinema” has proven to be rife with
complications. As Stephen Teo (2013, 225) has argued, Asian cinema is a
kaleidoscope of “national, indigenous artistic forms, signifying cultural, stylistic and
aesthetic distinctiveness”. As such, defining the cinematic landscape of Asia as a
region becomes a difficult task because, whereas it may refer to a specific geographic
region (Teo 2013), there is a great deal of diversity between the individual countries
that make up the region. Speaking specifically of the “Asian horror” term, James
Byrne (2014, 184) states that while this ideally refers to the region as a whole in
reality “our understanding of Asian horror lies in the assumption that Japanese horror
cinema is the dominant framework, influencing all other horror cinema that emerges
from the region”. Although such an approach may be acceptable when examining
specific trends in the region, using Japan as the marker for trends, style and
production standards in the region eliminates the potential for scholars to accurately
and conclusively explore the cinematic output of a region. It is ultimately, as Byrne
(2014, 184) explains, a Western “contextualising device” and its use limits a
thorough examination of national and transnational cinematic relationships. For

instance, the use of terms such as “Asian cinema” and “Asian horror” largely ignores
the lengthy history of war and political and cultural clashes between many of the
neighbouring countries. For instance, after the Japanese withdrew from their
colonisation of Korea following the Second World War, Korea implemented a
“formal ban on Japanese cultural products”, which only ended in 1998 (Huat 2006,
207).
While Teo admits that the region’s history does, at times, make it difficult to “sell
Asian films within Asia”, he also argues that “Asian cinema is the sharpest concept
that engages with the transnational” (Teo 2013, 230–231). In his estimation, this is
likely due to the fact that “Asian diversity, in all its national, cultural and racial
dimensions, is much more transparent” (Teo 2013, 231). However, Asia has been
engaged in cultural exchange for generations. Over the centuries, countries within
this region have shared religions, languages and art forms (Teo 2013). Part of the
role of the filmmaker is to “routinely draw on stories from other cultures” (O’Regan
2008, 263) and, as such, “film industries within East Asia have also been reaping the
benefits of drawing inspiration from and collaborating with each other” (Hwee Lim
2011, 16).
Co-production in Asia and the regional market

Since the 1980s, a wealth of films in Asia has been co-produced or consumed by
neighbouring countries (Huat 2006, 202). Genre films such as the Chinese “Wuxia-
cum-historical-epic” have gained popularity and prompted remakes in South Korea;
thus, comedy and horror films frequently cross borders to be consumed by audiences
and serve as inspirations for local filmmakers (Hwee Lim 2011). Unlike more
traditional nationalistic fare, these films are of a more generalised and commercial
nature, thus lending to their ability to cross borders (Hwee Lim 2011). They are key
examples of the emergence of films and television productions which forgo “Asian
values or traditional culture” for a more consumer-based popular culture discourse
(Iwabuchi, Muecke and Thomas 2004, 1).
Whereas some countries, such as Japan and South Korea, have healthy independent
film and television production and distribution sectors while also engaging in multi-

lateral co-productions with foreign countries, film industries in countries such as
Singapore are much more dependent on international co-productions. Singapore has
long been a consumer of Asian cinema, television, music and fashion, but its history
as a producer of content is still young (Huat 2006). More recently, however,
television companies in Singapore have been forging co-productions with other
Asian and Australasian countries so as to connect with filmmakers, production crews
and actors to “expand their own market and enterprise” (Huat 2006, 203). Films such
as Bait (Dir: Kimble Rendell, 2012), Dangerous Liaisons (Dir: Jin-Ho Hur, 2012)
and The Eye 2 (Dir: Oxide Pang Chun and Danny Pang, 2004) are examples of these
co-productions. Furthermore, when the Asian region suffered an economic crisis in
the early 2000s, co-production “intra-flows” increased amongst many of the Asian
countries in the region (Iwabuchi, Muecke and Thomas 2004, 1).
Examples of co-productions and transnational films in Asia

In researching the production and distribution relationships in Asia, Darrell W. Davis
and Yeh Yueh-Yu (2008) identified several clusters that exemplify these
relationships best. These clusters are made up of alliances and cooperative
production relationships that share many elements, but may diverge from one another
in terms of motivations or markets: “they may be tiny independents, large studios, or
specialty arms of multimedia films and government-backed initiatives” (Davis and
Yueh-Yu 2008, 90). The clusters identified are:
Euro-Asian alliances
Intra-Asian co-producers
Pan-Chinese co-productions
Pan-Asian program packagers
Hollywood–Asia ventures
Although there are cross-overs between the clusters identified, the differences in
motivations and size make it crucial to separate the clusters into these five
categories. At first glance, for instance, clusters two, three and four appear to have
very little discernible difference. However, as Davis and Yueh-Yu argue, there are
small yet critical differences amongst the three. They argue that while both intra-

Asian co-producers and Pan-Chinese co-productions are “commercially orientated,”
the primary difference is that intra-Asian co-producers “includes multi-language
markets within Asia,” whereas Pan-Chinese co-productions are “in mainly Chinese,
addressing markets that span different Chinese-speaking areas” (Davis and Yueh-Yu
2008, 90). As a result, these two clusters are primarily focused on performing well
within Asia and “target commercial prospects within the region” (Davis and Yueh-
Yu 2008, 91). Pan-Asian program packagers on the other hand are more focused on
exporting Asia outside the region. Films made in this cluster, such as Beijing Bicycle
(Dir: Xiaoshuai Wang, 2001) and The Island Tale (Dir: Stanley Kwan, 2000),
“reflect a conscious intent to represent ‘Asia’ to the West as well as Asian viewers”
(Davis and Yueh-Yu 2008, 91).
An example of intra-Asian co-productions can be seen in the feature films Three

(2002) and Three…Extremes (2004), which were made with the express intention of
“developing intraregional industrial networks” and testing “the possibilities of
intraregional co-production and distribution” (Lee 2011, 107). The two films are an
omnibus of short films created by either emerging or cult Asian filmmakers. Three
features films by Hong Kong, South Korean and Thai filmmakers while
Three…Extremes exchanges the Thai filmmaker for Takashi Miike from Japan. The
motivating force behind these productions comes from Applause Pictures, in
particular Peter Chan, who “has become well-known for leading the pan-Asian drive
of local film industries by instigating Asian co-productions, networking between
movie companies and personnel, and connecting local markets” (Lee 2011, 105–
106).
As Nikki J. Y. Lee (2011) states in her article, “‘Asia’ as Regional Signifier and
Transnational Genre-Branding: the Asian Horror Omnibus Movies Three and
Three…Extremes,” the leading purpose of this film project was to test intraregional
possibilities. Each country involved was responsible for budgeting their segment to
keep each film on an even playing field and “for distributing the finished product in
their own country” (Lee 2011, 107). As a result, the film was advertised in each
country in markedly different ways depending on the domestic preferences. For
instance, in South Korea Three…Extremes was released under the title Three,

Monster and the advertising material favoured the South Korean contribution in the
omnibus over the other two countries’ input. This strategy was indicative, states Lee
(2011, 109), of South Korea’s general disinterest in films from other Asian countries
as it capitalised on the national recognition of South Korean director Park Chan-
Wook (known for Oldboy (2003), Sympathy for Lady Vengeance (2005) and Stoker
(2013)) while minimising the other two filmmakers involved in the project.
An example of transnational production that extends outside of the Asian region is

clearly presented in the 2006 South Korean film, The Host (Bong Joon-Ho). The film
was written and directed by Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-Ho, a director and
screenwriter who has recently made the transition to Hollywood. The film was made
in South Korea with a primarily Korean cast; however, the special effects for this
monster film were outsourced to creative firms in the United States and New
Zealand. According to Hunt and Wing-Fai (2008, 1–2), Bong Joon-Ho is alleged to
have “pitched the film by ‘photoshopping’ the Loch Ness Monster onto the Han
River” as an early demonstration of the film’s international appeal. The film was pre-
sold to Japan, likely due to the connection between this film and the kaiju eiga, and
was picked up for a multiple-territory deal by Magnolia Pictures, an American
distributor similar to the United Kingdom’s Tartan Asia Extreme, which has a keen
eye for cult Asian films (Hunt and Wing-Fai 2008, 1,2). While the movie earned
most of its box-office takings in Asia (particularly Korea, Japan and China), it was
considered a breakout hit (Hunt and Wing-Fai 2008, 1) and has made approximately
$89 million dollars since its initial release in 2006, of which $64 million came from
its home country, South Korea (Box Office Mojo 2014).
American horror remakes

It is widely understood that Japanese horror cinema has had a significant impact on
the iconography and style of contemporary Western horror cinema. The revitalisation
of Japanese horror in the late 1990s both reinvigorated a sluggish domestic industry
and led to numerous US remakes of films in the mid-2000s, such as The Ring (2002),
The Ring 2 (2005), Dark Water (2005), The Grudge (2004), Pulse (2006) and One
Missed Call (2008). Moreover, since the worldwide commercial and critical success
of The Ring, Japanese horror cinema has inspired imitations and adaptations

globally, where previously Japanese horror had been seen as little more than an
obscure cult favourite (McRoy 2008; Harper 2008). As this suggests, aside from
direct remakes or adaptations of Japanese horror films, a wide range of thematic and
stylistic elements characteristic of Japanese horror cinema are being adopted by
filmmakers and production cultures from diverse international cinemas. Films such
as The Finnish Sauna (2008), the British film The Woman in Black (Dir: James
Watkins, 2012) and the Australian film Watch Me (Dir: Melanie Ansley, 2006)
replicate many of the iconographic elements of the yurei, or ghost film, such as the
long white dress and the dark hair draped over the face as well as evoking many of
the thematic and symbolic beats of Japanese horror, such as the inclusion of water to
represent the flow of life. Film scholarship has not let this go unrecorded. Jay McRoy
(2008, 2) notes that the ‘new Asian horror,’ of which Japanese horror is a vital part,
has “become both a genre deemed worthy of intellectual inquiry, as well as one of
international cinema’s most compelling and marketable commodities”.
In the late 1990s there was a push within Hollywood to place “(an) increased
importance on its major international markets” (Heffernan 2014, 68), which was
ultimately achieved in three ways. The first was through targeting more traditional
Hollywood blockbusters to these audiences, where we saw Asian influences in the
choreography and dynamics of action fight scenes in films like The Matrix (Cua Lim
2007, 114). The second was through the employment of Asian filmmakers, actors
and crew “in an effort to craft films that would also be marketable and appealing in
Asia” (Heffernan 2014, 62). And third, many of Hollywood’s major studios invested
in the remaking of successful Japanese, Hong Kong, Thai and South Korean films.
Though this section is preoccupied primarily with the remaking of Asian horror
films, this remake trend stretched beyond that particular genre. At the same time that
films such as The Ring were captivating audiences, films such as the police
procedural Infernal Affairs (Dir: Alan Mak, Andrew Lau, 2002) and the romantic
drama Shall We Dance? (Dir: Mitayuki Suo, 1996) were purchased and remade for
Western audiences (Heffernan 2014). And the movie Infernal Affairs was remade
into a Scorsese-directed 2006 film The Departed and received sensational reviews
and award standings.

Prior to the late 1990s, Asian horror had made very little impression outside of Asia
(Harper 2008); however, by the early 2000s, Asian horror, in particular Japanese
horror, was the hot commodity in Hollywood. Bliss Cua Lim (2007, 110) observes
that “by 2003 at least 18 remakes of films from South Korea, Japan, and Hong Kong
were either completed or in the works at various studios, including Paramount,
Warner Brothers, Fox and MGM, amongst many others. Outside of the cinema, the
genre was also gaining audiences within the home video market as well as finding
footing at international film festivals (Harper 2008; Hunt and Wing-Fai 2008). The
popularity of the Asian horror film is likely due to the “strong, ‘cerebral’ writing,
and the ‘Asian mythologies’ behind these monsters are new to us and make the terror
feel more rooted, less arbitrary” (unnamed American distributor quoted in Cua Lim
2007, 117). Between 2001 and 2008, almost one million DVDs of various Japanese
horror film titles were sold in the United Kingdom alone (Harper 2008, 7) and
arguably represent an increase in visibility for Japanese horror films. It is within this
period of expanding interest in Japanese horror that many directors of Japanese
zombie films began their filmmaking careers.
Along with providing Hollywood with an entry point into Asian markets, these
remakes were motivated by savvy business sense. At a time when the production and
marketing of a typical Hollywood film would stretch into the $90 million bracket
(Cua Lim 2007) these films were invariably made for far less, usually between $10
and $40 million (Cua Lim 2007; Heffernan 2014). In addition to this, the lack of
blood and gore, standard in the slasher films that were also popular at the time and
usually found in the remakes, meant that a PG-13 rating was easily attained and,
along with smaller budgets, “minimised risk and provided a safety net in the form of
appeal to the American youth market” (Heffernan 2014, 68). As a result, the
remaking of Japanese and other Asian horror films became a minor industry in its
own right, and the influence of the original Japanese films outside of Japan
demonstrates the existence of reverse cultural flows.
A similar safety net was achieved because a similar form of the films already existed,
negating the unknown element of filmmaking and marketing—whether an audience
will like the film. Roy Lee, a Korean–American, was responsible for bringing many

of the Asian horror films to studios in Hollywood, including Ju-On (The Grudge)
and Ringu (The Ring). While the remakes are often critically deemed as “poor copies
of the source films” (Lee 2011, 124), they typically provide healthy returns at the
box-office. The Ring, arguably the most popular of the remade Asian horror films,
grossed “almost $250 million worldwide” (Heffernan 2014, 69), as well as
performing well across Asia and particularly in Japan, where it grossed $14 million
(Heffernan 2014).
Some of the remakes were produced with completely Western casts and crews. On
the other hand, Hollywood also hired several of the directors to helm the English-
language remakes of their original films. Hideo Nakata, for example, was hired to
direct the sequel The Ring II and Takashi Shimizu wrote and directed both the
Japanese and American versions of The Grudge as well as their sequels. Hunt and
Wing-Fai (2008, 2) question whether the proliferation of directors and writers
moving from Asian to American film is “evidence of the West ‘yielding’ to the East
or…an opportunistic outsourcing of talent and ideas”. Many films produced within
this era of “transnational generic exchange” (Cua Lim 2007, 110) are, indeed,
motivated by business and economic imperatives; however, it is also true that many
Asian filmmakers, such as Takashi Miike and Chan Wook-Park, have found larger
audiences and easier distribution methods for their films since the boom in Asian
remakes.
Genre and transnationalism
Genre, at first glance, is a transnational concept (Van Der Heide 1995): a set of rules
and conventions that can exist in a similar or identical form regardless of origin.
However, cultural context means that a genre can be deciphered or unpacked in a
number of different ways (Schatz 1981). As a result, film genres are usually viewed
in terms of the “generic conventions, industrial practices, audience expectations,
national cinema traditions” (Kim 2009, 6). However, in spite of this national focus,
transnationalism has an integral role to play in many genres. As Dong Hoon Kim
(2009, 6) states, “transnational production and consumption of genre films and the
transnational dissemination of genre format and styles” have long maintained an

essential role in the genre film, especially since genre studies was largely created as a
way to account for international genres. As such, there is a gap in scholarship
regarding a transnational approach to genre in which the aesthetics, conventions and
styles of a genre in a transnational setting are rigorously examined.
The horror genre and the international horror film

Perhaps because American cinema remains integral to the definition of genre cinema
(Och and Strayer 2014, 3), scholarship within the horror genre remains primarily
focused on American films, regardless of the growing audience and academic
interest in international horror. Furthermore, when scholarship does branch out from
the traditional American canon, it often encounters problems in its framing of the
study. One such issue, as identified by Stephen Crofts (2006), Bill Van Der Heide
(1995) and MitsuhiroYoshimoto (2006), is that it is customary for the international
film to be examined against a “Hollywood-centred paradigm” (Yoshimoto 2006,
258), which can result in the non-Hollywood film being presented “as a devaluation
of the purity of the genre” (Van Der Heide 1995, 213). Yoshimoto (2006, 257–258)
sees this issue being further compounded because there is a greater importance
placed on understanding the Hollywood paradigm first, and the international text or
genre second, thus lowering the quality of expertise that scholars actually attain.
Films across all genres are traditionally split into two groups: those from Hollywood
and those from everywhere else (Yoshimoto 2006). This framing of horror as a
quintessentially American genre ignores both the plethora of horror films produced
internationally but also, as Och and Strayer (2014, 3) argue, ignores the international
origins of many prominent horror tropes and archetypal character types. Horror has
long been an international genre, with different cultures bringing their particular
fears and monsters to the screen at various points in history, from the Malaysian
Pontianak or female ghost films to Scandinavian trolls. Certain monsters may exist
within many different national cinemas, with the vampire being perhaps the most
international monster of all, but in a broad sense, the genre shifts depending on the
cultural and religious beliefs of each country. A film such as Pan’s Labyrinth is
disseminated to the multicultural American or Australian audiences very differently
than to the audiences in Spain and Mexico, who are predominantly Catholic.

Understandably then, horror does not belong to any one culture: everyone fears what
goes bump in the night. However, American horror, and cinema in general, is often
seen as being the “purest form of the genre” (Och and Strayer 2014, 3). Kim
Newman (2003, 7) argues that “the dominant strains of any given genre (including
horror) are American, with only the martial arts movie providing a non-American
alternative to the Western”.
Until the early 2000s, Western horror movies, particularly those from the United
States, Britain and Western Europe, tended to dominate the horror genre’s box-office
earnings in many countries around the world (Schneider and Williams 2005). The
American monster boom of the 1920s and 1930s, the Hammer films of the 1950s to
the 1970s and the American horror revival in the late 1960s to early 1980s are likely
responsible for this heavy Western focus, as they became the canonical films
discussed and explored in horror scholarship. However, twenty-first century horror is
perhaps best defined by the inclusion of international horror tropes, aesthetics and
storylines into the Hollywood model (Och and Strayer 2014), whether through
heavier distribution and circulation within America or through the context of being
remade or reappropriated by American studios.
The reason for this expansion in popularity for international horror is likely four-fold.
First, over the past decade, myriad countries have begun to experiment and produce
horror films for the first time, such as the Philippines and Norway, or in greater
quantity than in previous periods in cinema history (Schneider and Williams 2005).
Second, mainstream American audiences have begun to engage with international
films. Perhaps demonstrating this best is the popularity of the Japanese Kaidan Eiga,
or ghost film, as demonstrated with the international success of The Ring (1998) and
The Grudge (2000), and the big-budget American remakes their popularity initiated
(Schneider and Williams 2005). Third, because of the ease of communication with
people across the globe, “every nation, region, and cultural artefact is now influenced
by forces outside its geographic boundaries” (Schneider and Williams 2005, 3). The
creation of horror films is now very rarely entirely nationalistic; instead, there is a
“constant flow of affinities and ideas, in which histories and styles become flattened,
mutated, and adopted by both the largest studio

industries as well as burgeoning new cult cinemas” (Och and Strayer 2014, 1-2). In
regard to the zombie, since its return to popularity in the 2000s, it has also been
incorporated into films from countries such as Nigeria, Cuba, Norway and Pakistan,
where the traditional model of the zombie is integrated into more culturally specific
narratives. Fourth, prominent academics, such as Steven Jay Schneider (2003), have
voiced the need for global research into the horror genre and have paved the way
with books such as Horror International and Fear without Frontiers: Horror
Cinema across the Globe. These four areas, amongst many more, are working to
situate the horror genre as a global genre rather than simply a Western/American
genre, and raise awareness to the need for greater investigation into the genre as it is
depicted within various national cinemas. It is an aim of this study to present the
Japanese zombie film as not merely an extension or copy of the Western zombie
film, but as an advancement or exploration for what the genre can mean for
different audiences and filmmakers.
Examples of international and transnational horror

Transnational horror, much like transnational cinema, is a matter of degree.
Definitions by film scholars of transnationalism can “be broad enough to include any
film that has ever been exported or narrow (and ethnocentric) enough to mean any
non-Hollywood film that has a significant presence in the West” (Hunt and Wing-
Fai 2008, 4). Och and Strayer argue that transnational horror films are not
significantly constrained by traditional cultural or cinematic binaries. They

are regional and national; they traverse generic and media forms; and they
emphasise the horror genre’s ability to circumvent borders and delimit
territories (2014, 2).
Some films, such as 2012’s Iron Sky, are the result of co-productions between
several countries, which is one of the more recognisable forms of transnationalism.
However, production using multiple countries to share funding, actors and crews is
not the only form of transnationalism. For instance, transnationalism may occur
through the adoption of aesthetics and styles from a specific country, such as the
inclusion of Japanese yurei elements in the Finnish historical horror Sauna (Dir:

Antti-Jussi Annila, 2008) or a remake to adapt the film more completely to the
adopting country’s preferences, such as with the 2008 American zombie film
Quarantine (Dir: John Erick Dowdle), which was based on the 2007 Spanish film
[Rec] (Dir: Jaume Balagueró, Paco Plaza).
Alexander Schroeder’s article “Trollhunter, Dead Snow and Scandinavian Folklore:

Emerging From and Receding into the Landscape” examines the links between two
of Norway’s more recent horror films and their national film tradition of
incorporating folklore and connections to the landscape. In discussing the zombies in
Dead Snow, Schroeder refers to a Scandinavian folk monster, the draugen. Like the
zombies of the Western tradition, the draugen have a craving for human flesh, are
visibly rotting and can only be eliminated through decapitation or serious head injury
(Schroeder 2011, np). While they appear to visually and conventionally align with
the Western zombie, the “specifically Norwegian essence of the creatures is
disguised by their global characteristics” (Schroeder, 2011, NP). In Scandinavian
folkloric tradition, the draugen are a “physically solid and strong entity” (Schroeder
2011, NP) created through an aggressive or evil act to guard tombs filled with
treasure (Schroeder 2011, NP). However, while these nationally specific elements
are unlikely to be identified by an audience member not familiar with Norwegian
folklore, the visual similarity to the more traditional zombie as well as the director’s
utilisation of a more traditional zombie narrative structure resulted in a film which
achieved both national and international success.
Similarly the vampire is a somewhat transnational creature. It has been adopted

across the world, with both minute and major changes being made to best suit the
monster to that particular cultural paradigm. An example of this is the Jiang Shi,
known more commonly to Western audiences as the Hopping Corpse or the Chinese
Hopping Vampire. Though the Jiang Shi has ties to old Chinese folklore, the version
that gained popularity during the 1980s was modelled on the Western vampire
(Geddes quotes in Kay 2010). The Jiang Shi are mindless monsters (Kay 2010, 222)
with visible signs of decay or deathly pallor that “move in a stiff manner because of
rigor mortis” (Stein 2009, 239). However, unlike both Western vampires and
zombies, the purpose and demise of the Jiang Shi are unique to Chinese culture (Kay

2010, 222). The Jiang Shi do not drink blood or tear apart flesh like the Western
vampire or zombie; instead, they “seeks to absorb the qi or life force” of their
victims. Furthermore, the inclusion of such techniques as placing sticky rice on the
ground, holding one’s breath and writing death blessings in a blood ink, into the
films’ narratives have clear links to Buddhist and traditional rituals and customs
(Kay 2010, Hudson 2009) and are emblematic of the Asian cinema’s tradition of
borrowing or reworking successful Western genres to best communicate with their
audiences.
If one were to look at the Japanese zombie sub-genre on the surface it is not a
particularly transnational sub-genre. The films are made in Japan by Japanese crews
and are primarily independently funded by Japanese filmmakers, producers and
companies. Exceptions to this are the films produced under the Sushi Typhoon
banner. As discussed further in Chapter Five, Sushi Typhoon was a Japanese
production subsidiary of Nikkatsu whose primary aim was to take advantage of the
current cycle of popularity that the more extreme and cult Japanese film titles are
experiencing overseas. The films made by Sushi Typhoon were specifically
marketed to American and international audiences who “crave the good taste of bad
taste, and for whom too much is never enough” (Sushi Typhoon 2012, NP).
However, while these films were produced with the intention of overseas
distribution, the cast and crew working on the film were primarily Japanese. The
directors within Sushi Typhoon’s employ, such as Takashi Miike, Noboru Iguchi and
Yoshihiro Nishimura, continued to make the films for which they are renowned, with
the primary difference being higher budgets and guaranteed international
distribution.
However, on a textual level, the films are, to an extent, transnational. This relationship
will be explored in greater detail in Chapters 5 and 6. Because of both the origin of the
zombie in American cinema and the prominence of Western zombie films since the
1960s, the zombie is often studied within the Western context. However, since the
millennium saw the reintroduction of the zombie to cinematic audiences, there has been
a marked increase in interest in international zombies. Currently, Japan is leading that
charge. With America borrowing so heavily from

Japanese yurei films, both in terms of aesthetics and remaking actual intellectual
property, the zombie is Japan’s most prominent example of the flow of influence
happening in reverse. The Japanese zombie film, however, is not simply the
introduction of the monster within a Japanese environment. Instead, the Japanese
zombie films “traverse generic and media forms” (Och and Strayer 2013, 2),
blending the genre conventions, aesthetics and narrative forms from both Western
and Japanese influences to produce a transnational sub-genre heavily shaped by both
cinemas. As will be discussed further into the study, this transnationalism is
successfully attained through careful assimilation of Western conventions relating to
such things as the origin of the zombies, size of the threat and cognitive abilities of
the zombies within a broader narrative that conforms to cultural and generic markers
integral to Japanese horror cinema. All the while, the Japanese zombie film is neither
“constrained by traditional cultural or cinematic binaries” (Och and Strayer 2013, 2),
producing films that have performed well within cult film circles and film festival
circuits.
Conclusion
This chapter endeavoured to contextualise the industrial environment of the Japanese

film industry within the context of transnationalism. By defining transnationalism as
a concept within film studies, it emphasised the fluid exchange of resources and
ideas within the film industry, whether between neighbouring countries,
neighbouring regions or in a broader transcontinental space. This chapter explored
the positioning of cinema both within Japan as well as outside Japanese borders and
delineated the relationships between Japan and neighbouring countries in Asia, as
well as the interaction and transnational relationship that exist between Japan and
America. Furthermore, it expanded these relationships by introducing concepts of
genre, both horror and cult cinema, and exploring them from within the framework
of transnationalism. This chapter focused primarily on the broader industrial context;
however, these ideas will be built upon in the following chapter, which focuses
specifically on Japanese cinema and the aesthetics and genre traditions of Japanese
horror. These two chapters are foundational in developing the literature and theory
that underpins the analysis of Japanese zombie films in Chapters 5 and 6.

Chapter 4: Japanese Horror Cinema, Aesthetics and Industry
While Japanese zombie films are influenced by the Western zombie genre, they
maintain clear generic and aesthetic connections to Japanese horror. This chapter
will explore fundamental generic, aesthetic and industrial aspects of the Japanese
horror genre as well as the position that horror holds within Japanese cinema more
broadly. More specifically, to understand the unique cultural influences and thematic
concerns of the Japanese zombie film—and how they differ from Western zombie
movies—it is vital to delineate the broader aesthetic and stylistic characteristics of
Japanese horror cinema and how they have been applied, adapted or experimented
within the Japanese zombie film. Although the Japanese zombie film has its own
unique themes and conventions, many of its thematic concerns, conventions and
styles are determined by the broader aesthetic trends of Japanese horror cinema.

An introduction to Japanese horror cinema
The early Japanese film industry operated under a studio system very similar to the
one employed in Hollywood (Balmain 2008; Russell 2010). Like Hollywood, Japan
utilised a system of vertical integration, where the studios controlled production and
distribution, and owned the majority of theatres that carried the films (Balmain
2008). Towards the close of the 1920s, two Japanese studios, Shōchiku and
Nikkatsu, owned approximately “three-quarters of theatres” (Balmain 2008, 13),
which allowed them a great deal of power not only over their own releases, but also
over the releases of Hollywood films. Unlike the Hollywood system, which favoured
a “producer-orientation system”, Japan “emphasised the ultimate power of the
director” (Knowles 2002, NP).
Television proved to be a significant problem for the Japanese film industry, as

Japanese audiences chose to stay home rather than venture out to the cinema (Richie
1998; Phillips and Stringer 2007). By the late 1960s and early 1970s, box-office
figures were down significantly and studios, such as Nikkatsu, either turned to
roman poruno (a softer version of the popular softcore genre pinku eiga), or
collapsed, like Daiei and Shin-Tōhō (Phillips and Stringer 2007).
However, this marked an irreversible shift in Japan’s cinema system. Even today in
an era of reasonable prosperity for the Japanese film industry, studios do not have a
heavy role in the production of films; rather, their focus is now on distribution.
Where independent filmmaking was initially about filmmakers separating from the
studios in search of creative freedom, independent cinema is now the default for
production, thus leading the term independent to become, as Davis (quoted in
Balmain 2008, 14) states, “almost meaningless nowadays, at least on the production
level”.
However, while independent cinema has become the status quo for filmmaking in
Japan, this was not always the case. In fact, the current revitalisation of the cinema
can be traced to the boom in straight-to-video or “original video” films that gained
popularity in the early 1990s, such as Scary True Stories: Ten Haunting Tales from
Japanese Horror Cinema, Aesthetics and Industry 87

the Japanese Underground (dir: Norio Tsuruta, 1991). These films were not only
cheap to produce, but they are intimately tied to Japan’s golden age of horror cinema
in the 1990s and early 2000s, as the early adopters took advantage of the inexpensive
price to create horror films that juxtaposed “the ordinary with the extraordinary”
(Wada-Marciano 2007, 28) and deviated greatly from the more elaborate productions
that populated the Japanese horror genre from the 1970s to the 1980s. The use of
cheap videotape, and the resultant visual effects led to a proliferation of replicating
this home-video-quality in the narrative of the film. Prior to The Blair Witch Project
(1999), Japanese horror incorporated home movies into films such as Ringu (The
Ring) to great domestic and international success. Much of the appeal of Japanese
horror derives from these stylistic choices while also communicating ideas of
isolation, alienation and despair largely through visual cues (Wada-Marciano 2007).
Japan is often regarded as either Hollywood’s “other” (Russell 2010, 16) or as one of
the world’s defining national cinemas (Phillips and Stringer 2007). This often leads
studies and examinations of the cinema to conclude that Japanese film is “narratively
obscure, featuring inscrutable characters, and embracing culturally distinct aesthetic
practices accessible only to those familiar and steeped in Japanese culture” (Wee
2013, 202). While Japanese cinema is, indeed, unique and distinct, which will be
discussed shortly, this particular framing of Japanese cinema as opposite to
Hollywood discounts the level of “Japan’s ability to adopt, hybridise, and
incorporates external cultural influences” (Wee 2013, 3). In fact, Joseph L. Anderson
and Donald Richie (1982) specifically note the ability to accept, assimilate and
transform external creative influences as a defining quality of Japanese culture.
Expanding on this, Richie (quoted in Knowles 2002, NP) argues that “any definition
of Japanese style has to face the fact that most Japanese are usually unable to handle
anything without swiftly nationalising it”. This particular phenomenon is true as well
within Japanese horror, as the director of Ringu, Nakata Hideo, “admits that Ringu’s
mounting dread and terrifying visual economy owes as much to William Friedkin’s
The Exorcist (1973) as it does Mizoguchi Kenji’s haunting 1953 masterpiece Ugetsu
Monogatari, and the Suzuki Koji novel, Ring … from which Ringu borrows its
fundamental premise” (McRoy 2008, 2).

In terms of defining qualities, though, Japanese horror can be broken down to two
primary elements that exist due to a tension that builds between theme and aesthetics.
Several scholars (Wee 2013; Balmain 2008; Ozawa 2006; McRoy 2005) discuss the
binary nature of themes in Japanese horror films. Fear develops through multiple
thematic levels, but the overarching theme in Japanese horror is of a conflict between
the pre-modern, or traditional, and the modern (Wee 2013). Because this is tied to the
cultural and political evolution of Japan over the past 100 years, this theme often
manifests through a conflict between traditional Japanese characteristics and Western
influences, or between nature and technology. These themes, present in Japanese
horror films as widely diverse as Godzilla and Ringu, are irrevocably tied to identity
and Japan’s struggle to merge their cultural traditions with their growing industrial
and technological advancements.
Aesthetically, scholarship on Japanese horror often falls into two camps. On the one
hand, scholars such as Andy Richards (2010, 9) state that horror films made
throughout Asia, not only Japan, show a “willingness – allied with a lack of
squeamishness – to push horrific imagery to graphic extremes”. On the other hand,
Eime Ozawa (2006, 2) believes that Japanese horror conjures fear and frightens
“audiences through ambiguities and implications, effects and silences, rather than
explicit bloody violence”. It could be argued that this difference in definition results
from the expectations of the viewer in terms of Japanese horror cinema. There are
examples of both: Takashi Miike, director of Audition (1999) and Ichi the Killer
(2001) is well known and regarded for his unflinching and gore-filled body horror,
whereas the yurei films of the 1990s and early 2000s are clear examples of Ozawa’s
ambiguous and gore-free idea of Japanese horror. What can be argued, however, is
that both sides of Japanese horror diverge from the “temporal spatial continuity and a
dominant perspective through which the story is focalised” (Balmain 2009, 30),
which is popular in Hollywood and, instead, favours atmosphere and violent visuals,
whether implied or realised, over narrative coherence. Through both folklore and
theatre, horror has long had a place within Japanese culture and cinema (McRoy
2005; Balmain 2008; Iwasaka and Toelken 1994). However, it was after the Second
World War and the US occupation that horror grew to be a significant genre in

Japanese cinema (McRoy 2008). Because of this, the present analysis focuses on the
evolution of the horror genre in Japanese cinema from this point post-WWII.
A history of the horror movie in Japanese cinema
Horror cinema have been integral to Japanese cinema since the turn of the 19th
century, as Japan produced a number of early films, such as the lost short films Bake
Jizo (Jizo the Ghost dir: unknown, 1898) and Shinnin no Sosei (Resurrection of a
Corpse dir: that depicted the demons, ghosts and monsters that proliferate Japanese
folklore. Many of these early movies have narrative and visual antecedents in
Japan’s oral and theatrical traditions, which themselves have ties to the Shinto and
Buddhist belief systems (examined in more depth below). For instance, the 1964 film
Onibaba (dir: Kaneto Shindô) incorporated the narrative of the Buddhist story “A
Mast with Flesh Scared a Wife,” along with the Han-nya mask from Noh theatre to
visually depict the symbology of the story. Furthermore, films such as A Page of
Madness (Kurutta Ippēiji, dir: Teinosuke Kinugasa, 1926) demonstrate similar ties to
Japanese theatre and folklore origins, while also incorporating from international
influences such as The Cabinet of Dr Caligari from Germany and La Roue (dir: Abel
Gance, 1923) from France (Freiberg 2000, 11). However, in spite of the existence of
horror motifs in early Japanese films, the horror movie genre did not gain popularity
or prominence in Japanese cinema until after the Second World War.
Post-WWII
Following the conclusion of WWII in 1945 and up until 1952 when independence
was restored, Japan was occupied ostensibly by the Allied forces, though, under the
rule of General Douglas MacArthur, acting as Supreme Commander for the Allied
Powers (SCAP), it was primarily US forces that occupied Japan. Under Allied rule,
Japan was “forced to adopt Western democratic values and abolish state Shintō”
(Balmain 2008, 30), the national religion of Japan, which heavily impacted Japan’s
societal values and the very foundation of their culture. According to Isolde Standish
(2005, 157), one of the primarily barriers against the democratisation of Japan by
Allied forces was “an inherent conflict between Japanese Neo-Confucian-derived

concepts of loyalty and revenge on the one hand, and the Western-derived concepts
of the rule of law based upon universal concepts of good and bad”.
Amongst the tumultuous upheaval to life and society in Japan, strict guidelines for
cinematic output were implemented not only to restrict what the Japanese put onto
film but also to promote the ideology of democracy and compliance under Allied
occupation (Balmain 2008; McRoy 2008; Standish 2005). For 18 months, from
January 1946 to June 1947, “Japanese films were subject to both pre-production and
post-production censorship” (Standish 2005, 156). The Civil Information and
Education Section, or CIE as it was more commonly known, was a military outfit
charged with carrying out any “post-production censorship” (Standish 2005, 156). In
1945, the CIE released a statement with 13 prohibited themes that if found in any
Japanese films, would result in the banning of the film. The list, which is depicted
below in Figure 3, was primarily an attempt to eliminate films that “in any way
valorised the old feudal system and glorified military history” (Balmain 2008, 23).
Furthermore, this censorship also attempted to prohibit against the production of
films that depicted “revenge as a legitimate motive ... approving of suicide either
directly or indirectly ... depicting brutality, violence or evil as triumphant” (Standish
2005, 156–157). Arguments were made that the swordsmanship in Japanese
jidaigeki films was akin to gunfights in American Westerns; however, the Allied
forces believed that where the gunfights were depicted as a means of maintaining the
law, the swordfights of the samurai were purely motivated by revenge (Standish
2005). This fundamental dissonance between the Japanese and their occupiers, as it
existed in cinema and in the wider socio-economic landscape, remained one of the
key obstacles during the Allied occupation.
Figure 3. Thirteen Prohibited themes published by the CIE (November 1945)
Infused with militarism Distorting historical facts
Showing revenge as a legitimate motive Favouring racial or religious

discrimination
At variance with the spirit or letter of the Portraying feudal loyalty or contempt of
Potsdam Declaration or any SCAP

directive life as desirable and honourable
Chauvinistic and anti-foreign Approving of suicide either directly or

indirectly
Dealing with or approving the Depicting brutality, violence or evil as

subjugation or degradation of women triumphant
Nationalistic Condoning the exploitation of children
Anti-democratic
Source: Standish, I. 2005. A New History of Japanese Cinema. New York: Continuum Books
Popular Japanese films immediately prior to WWII, such as Jujiro (dir: Teinosuke
Kinugasa, 1928), A Story of Floating Weeds (dir: Yasujirō Ozu, 1934) and Humanity
and Paper Balloons (dir: Sadao Yamanaka, 1937), were primarily influenced by the
style and narratives of the Kabuki and Nō theatre productions, but were viewed by
the occupying forces as working against their attempts to introduce stability and
democracy to Japan. Kabuki, for instance, was banned because of “their feudal
settings and codes of loyalty towards one’s superiors” (Balmain 2008, 24). Similarly,
Kaidan, or ghost stories, which were directly adapted from Kabuki and Nō plays or
mined from traditional Japanese stories, were frequently prohibited in fear that they
may “inspire an ideologically inconvenient form of nationalism” (McRoy 2008, 7).
The restrictions which resulted from these prohibitions, both within film and more
broadly in Japanese culture, were “expressed in the cultural landscape as a tension
between the pre-modern, communalism and individualism, Japanese tradition and
Western democracy” (Balmain 2008, 11–12). These tensions became prominent
thematic points in Japanese horror cinema after the end of the Allied occupation.
Furthermore, Balmain posits that this conflict between Eastern and Western ideologies
or cultures could be viewed as “pre-modern and modern” (Balmain 2008,
25) and could be wholly responsible for the emergence of the Kaidan and daikeiju
eiga, the giant monster movie horror sub-genres in the 1950s.

While the horror genre was not introduced into Japanese cinema in the 1950s, the
cinematic landscape in Japan changed drastically between the pre-Allied occupation
and post-Allied occupation output. It is in the years following WWII and the Allied
occupation that the horror genre grew to have a significant position in Japanese
cinema. As hypothesised by Balmain (2008) above, not only did American and
Western culture have a direct and major impact upon the output of Japanese cinema
due to the direction of their socio-political and cultural guidance during the
occupation, but the events of WWII impacted heavily upon the direction of Japanese
cinema. Throughout the 1950s and 1960s, “Japanese film culture ... was the site for a
virtual explosion of tales of terror and apocalypse” (McRoy 2008, 6) as filmmakers
began to depict a Japan ravaged and hounded by giant mutated monsters.
Daikaiju Eiga
One of the first forms of monster horror film in Japan, the daikaiju eiga emerged as a
way or an outlet for filmmakers and, in turn, audiences to express the horror and
anxieties that had arisen as a result of WWII. Through these films, themes relating to
“the dread of mass destruction, mutation and the environmental impact of pollution
resulting from rapid industrialisation” (McRoy 2008, 7) were explored. Godzilla, or
Gojira, the most recognisable and popular of the daikaiju eiga, was released in 1954
and became an instantaneous hit within Japan as well as overseas (Napier 1993,
Noriega 1987). Daikaiju Gamera (The Giant Monster Gamera. Dir: Yuasa Noriaki,
1965), Sora no daikaiju Radon (Rodan. Dir: Ishiro, 1956) and Daimajin (Maijin. Dir:
Yasuda Kimiyoshi, 1966), while not reaching the same heights as Gojira, were
popular Daikaiju films that also launched sequels and dealt with similar issues to the
Gojira series (McRoy 2008). In academic circles, the themes at play in the Godzilla
series have long been associated with the identity of Japan, and the fragility and
confusion that permeated in the decades following WWII (Brophy 2010; Balmain
2008; Standish 2005; Napier 1993, Noriega 1987). As such, “these films may be seen
as occupying a continuum, both in Japan’s imagination of destruction and ultimately
in Japan’s imagination of itself” (Napier 1993, 331), thus allowing the audience the
power to process the experience while also “giving them a chance to reimagine and
rewrite their devastating defeat” (Napier 2006, 10). When writing about Godzilla,
Chon Noriega (1987, 67–68) builds upon Susan J. Napier’s statement by elucidating

that “whereas Western culture is based on the distinction between the observer and
the observed, on the opposition of the self versus the other, Japanese culture and
sentiment show a strong tendency to overcome this distinction by having the self
immerse itself in to the other”. Therefore, Godzilla and Japan are both, in this sense,
“transitional monster(s) caught between imperial past and the post-war industrial
future” (Noriega 1987, 68). This transitional space is mimicked in several Japanese
zombie films, from Helldriver to Junk: Shiryō-gari.
Philip Brophy discussed the role of Godzilla as a Japanese cultural signifier in his
article Monster Island: Godzilla and Japanese Sci-Fi/Horror/Fantasy and stated that
the staged replica of Tokyo has:
…been the psychological stage for playing out both Japan’s self-critical past
(how Japan persisted in nuclear testing after the Hiroshima and Nagasaki
bombings to create accidentally the ray of destruction genetically fused into
Godzilla’s spinal column) and its problematised future (how Japan might
control a frantic increase in energy production and consumption which is
forever on the verge of growing beyond the available land of Japan) (Brophy
2010, 40).
However, while the Allied occupation constrained the creative output of traditional
Japanese films, there is no denying that “Western ideas and beliefs, as well as
cultural forms have had an impact on Japan, especially during the Allied occupation”
(Balmain 2008, 11). While domestic films had dominated the Japanese box-office
prior to WWII, Japanese audiences were acquainted with the American films, such as
Enter Arséne Lupin (dir: Ford Beebe, 1944) and The Great Gatsby (dir: Elliott
Nugent, 1949), that often debuted in double bills with the more popular Japanese
films (Balmain 2008). To propagate “a more ‘democratic’ product” (Balmain 2008,
21), the Allies, through censorship, moulded Japanese film to a Hollywood model
that was soon adapted to the existing Japanese studio system (Balmain 2008). When
the Allied forces departed Japan in 1952, many of Japan’s previous political and
value systems were reintroduced by the Japanese government in an attempt to shift
Japanese culture and society back to the status quo; however, as there was great

“socioeconomic and political change during the relatively short occupation”
(Noriega 1987, 65), many of the successful changes implemented by the Allies
remained. These changes had lasting influences, both positive and negative, but they
opened the door for an increase in Western film and popular culture which is
partially responsible for the proliferation of Japanese zombie films today. While the
internet is also responsible for providing easier and quicker access to content, the
events of WWII and the post-war occupation expanded the pathway between Japan
and the West.
Japanese theatre influences in early Japanese cinema
The occupation of Japan by Allied forces following WWII had complicated effects
on how Japanese society progressed after the devastation of the war. Not only did it
impact the politics, economics and social construction of Japan, it also reformed the
ways in which Japan produced films and, importantly, what filmmakers made films
about. It was horror as a genre, in particular, which enabled the catharsis and
reorganisation of a country and a culture through the daikaiju eiga, pinku eiga and
techno-horror sub-genres. However, while WWII and the surrounding events had an
unmistakeable influence on Japanese horror, cultural influences—from theatrical
traditions to religious beliefs— also influenced the narrative and iconography of
Japanese horror cinema.
Kabuki, Nō and Bunraku influences in Japanese cinema

Kabuki, Nō and Bunraku are three dramatic Japanese arts that evolved from
travelling storytellers centuries ago (Balmain 2008, 15). Bunraku, or puppetry and
Kabuki were theatre forms available to all classes of Japanese society beginning in
the Tokugawa period (1600–1867), whereas Nō is a much older form of theatre
(origins traced to the 1200s) that was developed primarily for the upper classes alone
(Balmain 2008). Though there are similarities between the three forms, primarily the
highly stylised and moralistic stories, they are three unique forms of theatre that have
each contributed not only to Japan’s past, but continue to influence Japan’s culture
today, from stage to film.

When filmmaking was first introduced to Japan, many early films “had a tendency
towards the theatrical” (Balmain 2008, 15). It was common for filmmakers to
employ techniques, stories and actors from the Kabuki, Bunraku or Nō theatres in
their films. Many of the earliest actors and directors worked in both the stage and
screen mediums, moving between the two as “popular plays were adapted to screen
(and) theatrical genres and performances were employed in the cinema” (Freiberg
2000, NP). While Japanese cinema eventually developed into its own cultural being,
the influence of these theatres in regard to story, theme, genre and form still exist in
“contemporary Japanese cinema, including the horror genre” (Balmain 2008, 15).
Pertaining more directly to horror films is the role of heavily stylised makeup in
Kabuki and Bunraku theatre. Such as with benshi, this was often used to demonstrate
inner thoughts as well as demonstrate character type (Balmain 2008). Balmain (2008,
17) states that there are over 50 types of make-up utilised within these theatres to
“signify character and emotion”. Colour plays a principal role in identifying these
different characters and emotions, so where red may be used to symbolise youth,
blue is used for monsters or wicked people. Toshio, the young boy who terrorises
anyone unfortunate enough to enter the house in the Ju-On franchise (Dir: Shimizu,
1998–2014), stands apart from many of the ghosts of 1990s Japanese horror films in
that he is faintly blue, rather than merely ghostly pale. This marks him as
otherworldly or monstrous and differentiates him from the living characters in the
film. This blue colouring can also be found in several Japanese zombie films, such as
Battlefield Baseball (Dir: Yudai Yamaguchi, 2003) and Metaruka (Dead Banging.
Dir: Eiji Uchida, 2013). While from the perspective of the zombie sub-genre it could
be construed as an intertextual nod to the makeup used in George A. Romero’s
Dawn of the Dead, it is important to also note that it has become a visual trope in the
Japanese context.
Pre-modern horror: the Edo Gothic films

Edo Gothic horror films emerged during the 1950s and 1960s. These films are
modelled on the jidaigeki Kabuki genre and take place during the Tokugawa or Edo
period of Japanese civilisation (Balmain 2008; Berra 2010; Schreiber 2000). These
films, such as The Ghosts of Kasane Swamp (The Depths dir: Noburo Nakagawa,

1957), Ghost Cat of Otama Pond (dir: Yoshihiro Ishikawa, 1960), and Jigoku (The
Sinners of Hell dir: Nobuo Nakagawa, 1960), soon took over as the most popular
sub-genre for horror at the time (Balmain 2008). While these films have connections
to the Gothic style horror films being produced in the United Kingdom and United
States at the time, Edo Gothic:
… underpinned by Buddhist beliefs, does not provide the spectator with an

Absolute Other, whose destruction reaffirms the protagonist’s (and viewer’s)
sense of self ... the boundaries between good and evil are blurred and the
protagonist’s actions, however terrible, pave the way for an emptying of self
and salvation through suffering (Balmain 2008, x–xi).
Much as the daikaiju eiga were films developed in part to act as catharsis and
education following WWII, Edo Gothic presents “the examination of morality in an
age of rampant materialism” (Standish 2005, 254). Because of this, the period setting
is of great importance “as it parallels contemporary concerns at the time over the
breakdown of social structures in the face of economic expansion and the perceived
Westernisation of Japanese society” (Balmain 2008, 53). However, as John Berra
(2010, 134) explains, there has always been a level of anachronism in the telling of
these Edo Gothic stories because they provide the filmmaker with “a vehicle to
critique its present, with the trappings of the period piece actually enabling
filmmakers to be more overtly critical of the Japanese government and various
national institutions”.
Unlike other sub-genres, the Edo Gothic remained strictly traditional and enforced
stringent and often conservative values that were once vital aspects of Japanese
culture (Balmain 2008), namely, the key convention of fatalism and the Japanese
concept of mono-no-aware. Mono-no-aware, as defined by Balmain (2008, 50),
requires a “resigned acceptance of one’s fate”. Richie (2001, 63) expands upon this
by defining it as “an observance of the way things are and a willingness to go along
with them ... an acceptance of adversity, and an appreciation of the inevitable”.

Edo Gothic stories showcased “ghostly happenings, forbidden desires and capitalist
greed” (Balmain 2008, x) and a mix of otherworldly and period-specific subject
matter. They were a reaction to ‘cookie-cutter plots’, with audiences instead wanting
“characters symbolic of their struggles against the status quo” (Schreiber 2000, 63).
Although Edo Gothic draws from a variety of religious inspirations, from
Christianity to Shinto (Balmain 2008), it is perhaps the Buddhist influence that is
most dominant. In Buddhist teachings, “pre-occupation with the self only leads to
Duhkha, suffering that arises out of desire” (Hughes 2000, 84); therefore, rather than
necessitate a re-examination of the self to realign the spirit, “spiritual satisfaction is
achieved when one empties one’s mind of all temporal distractions and joins the
larger ocean of existence” (Hughes 2000, 84). In Edo Gothic, one of the primary
narratives involves “(the) loss of wa, or the spiritual connection between man and
nature, is symbolised through the privileging of selfish desires and desire for status
of selflessness (seisen)” (Balmain 2008, 54). Reaffirming Buddhist and traditional
ideals, especially the ties between man and nature, between self and spirit, Edo
Gothic represents a determined effort to reset. Anderson (quoted in Balmain 2008,
49) states that “Japan’s only hope was to overthrow the foreign corruption of the
Japanese body politic by returning to Japan’s traditions and roots as best as it could”.
Japanese exploitation cinema: pinku eiga, body horror and Guinea Pig films
During the Allied occupation and at the same time the guidelines for Japanese film
were being set, a commission was set up to “police violent and sexually explicit
films” (Balmain 2008, 70). The Administration Commission of Motion Picture
Code of Ethics (EIRIN) was set up in 1949, which mandated a strict guideline of
what could and could not be consumed by cinema audiences. Three areas
specifically deemed obscene, as per Balmain (2008, 70), were “(1) genitalia, (2)
pubic hair and areas and, (3) penetration shots”.
While EIRIN restricted hardcore pornography on film, many filmmakers were able
to get films featuring “sexual violence and extreme sadomasochism” (Balmain 2008,
70) through the censors by cleverly angling the camera or situating props so that the
offending content was always hidden. This transformed the filmic landscape of the

late 1950s and 1960s as a new wave of experimental independent filmmakers began
to use “sex and crime” as “transgressive mediums through which dominant social
values were challenged” (Standish 2005, 222).
Many of these extreme films were created under the guise of social and political
commentary. Standish (2005, 223) states that filmmakers of the time “challenged
humanism by exposing it to the ideological constructedness of reified romantic love
by subverting it to carnal desire and taking it through consummation, perversion,
crime and punitive acts of violence”. However, while this may be true of the new
wave filmmakers, such as O-Shima and Imamura who were also “incorporating
revolutionary ideas” including “social outcast as protagonists…and the changing
roles of women” (Kozma 2014, 39) into their films, other pinku eiga and V-cinema
films instead can more realistically be described as intending “to alarm and incite
madness” (Grossman 2002, 4).
Pinku eiga
Pinku eiga (pink films) is the term given to a collection of theatrically released “low-
budget, sexually explicit” films (Balmain 2011, 58) that heavily featured graphic
violence and softcore pornography (Harper 2008) and are renowned for “daunting
superabundance ... anarchic politics, and penchant for rough sadomasochism”
(Grossman 2002, 1). Though pinku eiga are often defined by their low-budgets and
short length—running for approximately one hour—they were typically shot on “35
mm film and released theatrically” (Balmain 2011, 58). Some are credited as the
“saviour of studios” (Balmain 2008, 71).
Balmain (2008, 15) states that in the 1960s, studio productions were struggling to
compete with television and foreign films, whereas pinku eiga was gaining
popularity amongst Japanese audiences. The first wave of pinku eiga (1962–1972)
was primarily produced by independent studios and directors, including “Okra,

Kanta and Wakamatsu” (Balmain 2008, 72), with films such as Secrets Behind the
Wall (dir: Kōji Wakamatsu, 1965), Niku (Flesh dir: Kan Mukai, 1965) and Ecstasy of
the Angels (dir: Kōji Wakamatsu, 1972). However by the middle of the 1960s, pinku
eiga made up approximately “forty percent of domestic production” (Standish 2005,

268). The success of independent pinku eiga led to studios such as Nikkatsu adopting
the genre under the guise of roman porno, or romantic pornography (Balmain 2008).
This second wave of mainstream, studio-produced pinku eiga continued through the
1970s into the early 1980s and “tempered its strangeness and sanctioned its
blasphemies” to appeal to audiences on a “grand scale” (Grossman 2002, 1).
Pinku eiga treads a thin line between experimentation with sexual politics and
egregious sadomasochistic pornography. The genre is littered with misogynistic
depictions of female humiliation, abuse and rape (Grossman 2002), with the
“surrealistic mixture of dentistry, torture and rape” (Balmain 2008, 71) in 1964’s
Daydream (Dir: Tetsuji Takechi) defining the genre. Some films, such as Black Snow
(dir: Tetsuji Takechi, 1965), were so extreme in their depiction of sex and violence
that their directors were arrested “on charges of obscenity” (Balmain 2008, 71).
However, in the 1970s, an off-shoot of female-driven pinku eiga, known as ‘pinky
violence’, began to gain popularity. Pinky violence films were still “exploitation
films built around softcore pornography and sadomasochistic themes”; however, they
focused around “teenage girl gangs, softcore pornography, social commentary and
radical conceptualizations of female sexuality” (Kozma 2014, 37). Popular films
within this trend included Girl Boss Guerilla (dir: Norifumi Suzuki, 1972),
Terrifying Girls’ High School: Lynch Law Classroom (dir: Norifumi Suzuki, 1973),
and Female Yakuza Tale: Inquisition and Torture (dir: Teruo Ishii, 1973). This trend
of pinky violence has continued into contemporary Japanese horror films, especially
those helmed by filmmakers Yoshihiro Nishimura, Noboru Iguchi and Naoyuki
Tomomatsu. Films such as Tokyo Gore Police (Tôkyô zankoku keisatsu. Dir:
Yoshihiro Nishimura, 2008), Vampire Girl vs Frankenstein Girl (Kyûketsu Shôjo tai
Shôjo Furanken. Dir: Nishimura & Tomomatsu, 2009), The Machine Girl (Dir:
Noboru Iguchi, 2008) and Samurai Princess (Samurai purinsesu: Gedô-hime. Dir:
Kenjo Kaji, 2009) are female-led cult horror films that blend the softcore
pornography and heightened sexuality of pinku eiga with the extreme gore and body
horror of the splatter gore genre. Many of the filmmakers responsible for these
contemporary pinky violence films have since made the transition into directing,
writing or producing Japanese zombie films and have similarly transitioned many of
these qualities across into their zombie films.

V-Cinema and Guinea Pig films
In the 1980s, the ready availability of videotape instigated “a major transformation in
filmic distribution” (Wada-Marciano 2009, 3) and signalled the beginning of a new
trend of independent filmmaking which would be cheaper and easier to create and
allow for greater creative autonomy. Direct-to-video film, known as V-Cinema in
Japan and now often referred to as DVD-Cinema (Wada-Marciano 2009, 3), is
responsible for the “unparalleled success” (Wada-Marciano 2009) of alternative
genres such as “anime (Japanese animation), action film series, horror films and AV
(adult video)” (Wada-Marciano 2009, 3).
V-Cinema grew to become an integral part of the Japanese film industry. It became a
backdoor for directors to gain experience and explore “their own personal visions
and obsessions” (Hunter 1998, 123). However, it was also a trend utilised by the
studios. Certain studios would promote V-Cinema horror films due to their “low
production cost and the certainty of revenue” (Wada-Marciano 2009, 3). It also led to
the creation of AV cinema which branched out from the softcore origins of the pinku
eiga to create a genre of hardcore pornography that catered for “almost every kind of
sexual proclivity” (Balmain 2011, 59). Without any censorship over what the
filmmakers can and cannot show, both V-Cinema and AV cinema allowed for highly
experimental, extreme and controversial cinematic content.
The Guinea Pig film series is one of the more notorious inclusions into extreme
horror cinema across the globe (McRoy 2008). It is, according to Balmain (2011,
65), “the holy grail of horror cinema” as for decades prints of the films were very
rare internationally, thus creating “an exclusive club composed of only the most
hardened viewers and connoisseurs of cult cinema”. Much of this popularity comes
from the arrests and criminal investigations that surrounded the series, from the
urban legend that American actor Charlie Sheen reported one the films to the FBI
believing it to be a real snuff film (McRoy 2008) to the Japanese serial killer known
as the “Otaku killer” who had a collection of “over 6,000 sexually violent manga,
anime, and films, including one or more of the Guinea Pig films” (Balmain 2011,
65).

The brainchild of Satoru Ogura (Balmain 2011, 59), the series contributes to the
pinku eiga “tradition of sadomasochistic imagery within Japanese cinema” (McRoy
2008, 29), blending the extreme sexual proclivities of pinku eiga with the horror and
splatter film genre conventions (Balmain 2011, 60). Made up of “six official films,
two “makings of” and two “best of” compilations” (Balmain 2011, 59), the series
was very successful upon release, “outselling ‘most mainstream Hollywood releases
two months in a row’” (Biro quoted in McRoy 2008, 16).
Like the pinku eiga, the Guinea Pig films are typically short-running films. For
instance, Devil’s Experiment (Dir: Akumano Jikken, 1985) only runs for forty
minutes. Similar to pinku eiga, although narrative coherence is not a priority, they
are very experimental and technical when it comes to the visual aspects of these
films. Jack Hunter (1998, 145) believes the film Devil’s Experiment to be a “well-
crafted cinematic exercise” principally due to the use of “slow-motion, freeze-frame,
fades, intercuts, overhead shots, point-of-view shots, close ups, anamorphs, rapid-fire
editing, captioning and sound tracking in its composition”. Hunter (1998, 149) states
that at the conclusion of a viewing of Devil’s Experiment, “the viewer is left
brutalised, undoubtedly, but also with that intangible sadness at the evanescence of
human life which lies at the heart of much Japanese art”. McRoy (2008, 16) similarly
describes the Guinea Pig films as “innovative works of horror cinema that challenge
and redefine many of the genre’s narrative and visual conventions”; however,
Balmain (2011, 65) argues that “rather than any inherent artistic or cultural value”,
the real marker of the series’ success is notoriety.
Body horror
Body horror fits comfortably at the more extreme end of Japanese horror and pinku
eiga. In a general sense, body horror is just that, horror directed at the body. In a
body horror film, you are likely to see that “the body’s boundaries and borders are
often violated by being penetrated, ripped apart, or even morphed into
unrecognisable human parts” (Ruddell 2012, 163). Sharing common threads with
techno-horror and pinku eiga, body horror explores and challenges limits by
“exposing the borders mobilised to delineate genres, bodies and nations as not only

artificially constructed, but far more permeable than previously imagined” (McRoy
2008, 63).
In Western cinema, body horror relates to a specific fear in contemporary horror, a

fear that is less defined by death and more specifically based around a fear of the
body and the abject forms that exist within it (Brophy 1986). It is about control, or a
lack thereof, over what was historically supposed to be innately ‘us;’ a lack of
control over our physical body suggests a lack of control of our spiritual selves. As
McRoy states, body horror is a
… discourse of boundary violation and body invasion, graphically enacting,

in the process, perhaps the most dreadful apocalypse of all – the perpetual
intimate apocalypse of the human body revealed not as a consolidated and
impregnable citadel, but as a flexible assemblage that disallows for illusions
of corporeal integrity or for ideologies privileging the sovereignty of the
human form (McRoy 2008, 139).
Body horror is a sub-genre found in a wide range of Japanese anime, manga, horror
and science fiction films. Anime films, such as Ghost in the Shell (Kôkaku Kidôtai.
Dir: Mamoru Oshii, 1995) and Akira (Dir: Katsushiro Ȏtomo, 1988), have gained
cult status for their “transgressive and apocalyptic images of death, violence and
metamorphosis of the body” (Ruddell 2012, 157). Since a crucial aspect of body
horror is the lack of control one has over one’s body and the abject horror that
originates from this lack of control, anime has an enviable position to represent such
horror. As Caroline Ruddell (2012, 158) states, “the use of animation allows for
infinite possibilities in terms of representation” and, as such, the body can be
“presented in bits and pieces, torn apart, split down the seams, and inside out”.
In the realm of live action, Sato Hisayasu, director of Naked Blood (1995) and
Muscle (1989), is Japan’s preeminent body horror filmmaker. Known for blending
“the visceral, the psychopathological and the metaphysical” (Hunter 1999, 139)
within his films, the “metaphoric implications of the splattered or transfigured body
are central to his aesthetic and political agenda” (McRoy 2010, 5). Coming from a

background in independent pinku eiga, Hisayasu’s films emerge “at the intersection
of horror, science fiction, and Japanese softcore pornography…a veritable melange
of splatterpunk, cyberpunk, and erotic cinema motifs that locate the body as a liminal
construction” (McRoy 2008, 50). Throughout his career, Sato Hisayasu made films
that “brim with mute hysteria and deal with a violence of the soul that often erupts
into the outside world” (Hunter 1998, 123). Arising out of a disdain for Japanese
censorship laws, Hisayasu’s film Naked Blood weds “conventional signifiers of
sexuality (such as moans of pleasure and ecstatic postures) with violent images of the
human form turned horrifically against itself” to question the role of censorship in
film as well as the “impact of changing gender roles and the emergences of virtual
technologies in late capitalist Japanese society” (McRoy 2008, 54–56).
The splatter gore genre in Japan, which will be discussed at greater length in relation
to the Japanese zombie film in Chapter Six, tackles the issue of body horror from a
different perspective. Where Hisayasu’s films are a recitation on censorship and
other political ideologies, the splatter gore genre hinges almost entirely on garnering
a visceral reaction from audiences, primarily through a combination of satire,
amplified gore and extravagant special effects. Aside from the dissolution of bodies
and boundaries as they are shot, stabbed and torn apart, the splatter gore genre
regularly employs mutation as a way to depict the lack of control people have over
their body and the transformations they undergo. The film Tokyo Gore Police takes
place in a near future, when self-mutilation is prevalent and no longer a hidden
shame. The lead of the film, Ruka (Eihi Shiina), is a policewoman responsible for
hunting down the “engineers”, a group of mutant humans who are able to transform
any injury into a weapon. The film portrays various depictions of this mutation, from
missing arms growing guns in their place to a woman whose injured legs transform
into a crocodile-like snapping jaw complete with razor sharp teeth. While these films
are not produced to make a philosophical or thematic declaration, their depiction of
the body in pieces or the damaged body repaired through mutation or transformation
makes a profound statement regarding both the fragility of the physical self and the
potential for the body to exceed expectations.

A number of Japanese zombie films can be viewed as a specific evolution of the
splattergore and body horror sub-genres. These films, such as Helldriver, Zombie
Ass: Toilet of the Dead and Tokyo Zombie, show the human body in various states of
decay, damage and transformation. While overarching narratives do exist within
these films there is also a focusing or obsession with this particular element, showing
the body transitioning from its regular state to something new, complimented with
shots of bodies swelling, melting, bleeding or being cut to pieces. Several of the
directors most often associated with Japanese zombie films began their career
making either pinku eiga or splattergore films, and as a result elements of these
genres are visible throughout many Japanese zombie films.
Contemporary Japanese horror cinema
The discussion above outlines key historical sub-genres and aesthetic tendencies the
ensuing analysis considers dominant trends in contemporary Japanese horror cinema.
These are tendencies that have a strong influence upon the stylistic, thematic and
generic elements of the Japanese zombie film, which will be expanded upon in the
following chapter.
Since the emergence of Japanese cinema in the twentieth century, a studio system
has dominated local production. The introduction of studios, such as Nikkatsu and
Shochiku in the 1920s and 1930s, led to films being able to be “seen by a much
wider demographic group as well as maximising profitability” (Balmain 2008, 12).
The studio system accounted for over three-quarters of the movie theatres, allowing
for healthy competition with imported films (primarily from Hollywood) even at
times when domestic production necessitated a slowing down of production, such as
after the Great Kanto Earthquake (Balmain 2008). As the studio system began to
collapse in the 1970s (Harper 2008) due to competition from television and
international films, the studios looked for alternative ways to maintain a foothold in
the system, whether “by producing films with solid commercial potential” (Harper
2008, 8) or by shifting focus from production to distribution (Wada-Marciano 2007,
24). Out of the “disintegration of the studio system and a levelling of competition,
and increasing affiliations among ‘major’ and ‘independent’ film productions”

(Wada-Marciano 2007, 25) grew the contemporary Japanese horror genre. Though
horror had existed in previous decades and was a prominent element of the Edo
Gothic film, when the studios first began to suffer from the downturn in profits
“marginal genres like horror were pushed aside in favour of more dependable
ventures” (Harper 2008, 8), such as historical dramas.
Amongst the wreckage of the studio system grew a “new generation of filmmakers”
(Harper 2008, 8). These filmmakers were people “whose attitudes and philosophies
of cinema were entirely different from those of the old studio period. They were
independent in spirit: artists with nothing to lose, but with everything to gain” (Mes
and Sharp quoted in Wada-Marciano 2007, 24). Unlike the filmmakers who
preceded them, this new generation did not have the benefit of studio support and
education but, instead, “cut their teeth on the video market, a medium that allowed a
greater degree of experimentalism than the studio-dominated theatre chains” (Harper
2008, 8). Although these filmmakers did not all gravitate to the horror genre, a great
number of them did, including filmmakers Konaka Chiaki (Marebito) and Tsuruta
Norio (Premonition). Instead of creating classic Kaidan period-pieces, these horror
filmmakers “took inspiration from both Western and Japanese genre traditions, as
well as from non-horror sources such as the pinku eiga or the kaiju eiga” (Harper
2008, 8) and shifted the stories to a more contemporary setting, a framework
similarly seen in Japanese zombie films.
Contemporary Japanese horror is typically defined by the atmospheric techno-horror

and Kaidan of the 1990s and 2000s; however, horror in the 1980s was a very
different breed. 1980s Japanese horror, describes McRoy (2008, 9), is “painted in
bright streaks of red, spurting from hashing wounds and blood-spouting intestinal
spillings”. These films were typically made by veterans of the pinku eiga
exploitation genre and, in a general sense, “are largely indivisible from the pink
film” (Harper 2008, 25). While nudity and gore were not unheard of in Japanese
films, they became the defining features of 1980s splatter films like Shiryo no Wana
(Evil Dead Trap. Dir: Toshiharu Ikeda, 1988) and Shojo no Harawata (Entrails of a
Virgin. Dir: Kazuo Komizu, 1986), “where audiences were willing to accept
anything as long as it had the requisite amount of sex and violence” (Harper 2008,

25). Though this extremely violent and gory horror still exists in contemporary
Japanese horror, it was largely overlooked by the 1990s, when a new form of
Japanese horror caught both the Japanese and Western world’s attention.
Techno-Horror and the birth of The Ring: a new cycle of horror

As earlier decades had favoured period Kaidan films, or kaiju eiga, the 1990s and
2000s saw an abundance of horror films that explored “the motifs of alienation,
emptiness and isolation contained within an apocalyptic mise-en-scene of techno-
horror, articulate urban alienation in a society dominated by the image, commodity
fetishisation and economic instability” (Balmain 2008, 168). Similarly, McRoy
identified techno-horror as the cinematic depiction of “the darker side of a process of
nation-wide industrialisation largely orchestrated as a result of, and in direct
response to, Western (primarily US) military and cultural imperialism” (McRoy
2008, 139).
When summarising some of the most popular Japanese techno-horror films, The
Ring, The Suicide Manual (Dir: Osamu Fukutani, 2003) and One Missed Call (Dir:
Takashi Miike, 2003), Balmain found that regardless of the form of technological
horror, “Death, both symbolic and literal, is omnipresent, as the eventual outcome of
technological progress” (Balmain 2008, 187). In The Ring, it is a cursed video that
heralds the demise of several characters, while in The Suicide Manual a DVD
exhibits the best way for characters to commit suicide. In One Missed Call, “mobile
phone calls … predict the time and date of death” (Balmain 2008, 169). These films
utilise “textual elements drawn from the urban topography and the pervasive use of
technology” (Wada-Marciano 2007, 26) to depict a Japan that is at once present and
dystopian, a glimpse into the horrific manifestations of technology and
industrialisation and the clash between old and new.
Techno-horror developed at a time when Japan’s technological advancements had

reached an all-time high, which stimulated the emerging kaitei culture amongst
teenagers and young adults, in which the mobile phone—used to text, email, chat and
access the internet—“has become an extension of the self, an inseparable part of
one’s personal identity” (Balmain 2008, 176). However, as kaitei culture was

developing, Japan’s economy also stumbled to a halt, domestic violence was on the
increase, stability and security was rocky and aggression in children also began to
rise (Balmain 2008). These issues conflicted with the innate Japanese belief of Japan
as a “stable society” (Napier quoted in Balmain 2008, 188) and, as such, “it is not
surprising that dystopian visions of the future would dominate Japanese culture”
(Balmain 2008, 187).
Though contemporary Japanese horror had experienced significant change since the
late 1970s, perhaps the defining date for Japanese horror is January 31, 1998
(Wardrope ND; Harper 2008; Balmain 2008). This date marked “a tidal wave of pop
culture and guerrilla marketing” (Wardrope ND, 2) that preceded and resulted in the
highly successful domestic release of Hideo Nakata’s Ringu (The Ring). Ringu
earned approximately US$13 million at the box-office in Japan, which resulted in it
becoming, at the time, Japan’s “most successful film in terms of box-office receipts”
(Balmain 2008, 2). Ringu not only proved tremendously popular domestically, but
“set in motion (events) that saw Japanese horror cinema develop from a modest
domestic concern into an influential and lucrative international industry” (Harper
2008, 7). Without “Ringu’s sensational reception and influence” (McRoy 2008, 2),
Japanese horror, as a genre and field of academic study, would likely not exist as it
does today.
Prior to 1998, Japanese horror films received very minor, if any, exposure outside of
East Asia. However, the release of Ringu, followed by a spate of aesthetically similar
Japanese horror films, “paved the way for the success of Japanese horror cinema in
the West” (Balmain 2008, 2), where the genre has now found a solid position in
“cinemas and the home video market” (Harper 2008, 7), to the extent that “nearly a
million Japanese horror DVDs have been sold in the past seven years” (Harper 2008,
7). Similarly, the genre is defined by “prolific production, both in speech and
numbers” (Wada-Marciano 2007, 26), which has helped retain popularity and
cultural relevance in the genre, both domestically and internationally. For example,
Ringu was released simultaneously with Rasen (Spiral. Dir: Joji Iida, 1998), the film
adaptation of the book’s sequel, followed by the sequel Ringu 2 in 1999 and a
prequel Ringu Zero Basude (Ring 0: Birthday) in 2000.

Death and the afterlife in Japanese horror cinema and the yurei film
Badley identifies death as the “21st century taboo” (Badley 1995, 21), which has
been systematically removed from “both public and private experience” (Badley
1995, 22). However, while the West has persevered to hide from or abolish signs of
death from everyday life, “for the Japanese, death is within life” (Kishimoto Hideo
quoted in Iwasaka & Toelken 1994, 26). The combined effects of Buddhist, Shinto
and Christian influences on Japanese society place an inescapable focus on death and
life after death:
Death is not only a common subject in Japanese folklore but seems indeed to
be the principal topic in Japanese tradition; nearly every festival, every ritual,
every custom is bound up in every way with relationships between the living
and the dead, between the present family and its ancestors, between the
present occupation and its forebears (Iwasaka & Toelken 1994, 6).
In accordance with Japanese religion and folkloric perspectives, the worlds of the
living (kono-yo) and the dead (ano-yo) are separated by a thin border, and it is the
purpose of many Japanese horror films to transgress this border and create a sense of
dread and horror (Balmain 2006, NP). It is through death, state Michiko Iwasaka and
Barre Toelken (1994, 6), that important Japanese worldviews, such as those
pertaining to “obligation, duty, debt, honour, and personal responsibility” are
brought into focus. In accordance with Japanese beliefs, “family obligations do not
cease with death” (Iwasaka & Toelken 1994, 38); in fact, the ceremonies, rituals and
behaviours that surround a family member’s death intensify these obligations and
“remind them of those enduring mutual obligations to family, clan and nation”
(Iwasaka & Toelken 1994, 36). At the same time, death also does not free the
deceased of responsibilities. Upon death it is the responsibility of the spirit to protect
and help their remaining family (Balmain 2008, 48). As a result, transgressive acts
like murder “can be even more abhorrent, more poignant, and more laced with guilt
than it ever could in the West” (Iwasaka & Toelken 1994, 36).

The yurei, or ghost film, has been the most commercially successful contemporary
horror sub-genre in Japan and is a prime example of this interplay between the living
and the dead in Japanese horror. The yurei, which translates to mean “dim/hazy/faint
spirit” (Sumpter 2006, 7), has been a popular character in Japanese folklore, film,
and theatre for several hundred years. The power of this myth—that of the spirit of a
sullied person returning to the living world for revenge—can be traced back to early
Shinto beliefs surrounding ideas of “death and defilement” (Sumpter 2006, 7). Tim
Screech (quoted in Sumpter 2006, 9) describes the yurei as “rising up from the
darkness, yurei reanimate themselves with the flame of their passion. This makes
them partially human again, reinvested with their original mind and something of
their former bodies too—scars, blood, and all”.
Ringu (1998) successfully introduced the Japanese ghost film to Western audiences
that inspired both Korean (The Ring Virus. Dir: Dong-Bin Kim, 1999) and American
remakes (The Ring, The Ring 2) and ushered in an era of filmmaking in both Japan
and America that utilised the central themes and tropes of Ringu for several years
after its initial success. Ringu, along with other popular yurei films such as Pulse
(2001), Dark Water (2002), Tomie (Dir: Ataru Oikawa, 1999), and Ju-On (2000),
collapses “the spatial distinctions between the kono-yo and ano-yo as spirits take on
physical materiality” (Balmain 2006, NP) as the yurei torment living people who
were either directly responsible for their violent end or who unluckily stumble across
the location or person the yurei is dedicating their wrath towards.
There are several key defining aesthetic and thematic features of the yurei, from
long, dark hair to white clothing, water and the prominence of female avenging
spirits. These iconographic choices are often descended from early folkloric
traditions. The white robes or dresses that the yurei are often garbed in hark back to
the burial traditions during the Edo period. During this time, it was also customary
for women contemplating suicide, or who were to be executed, to wear white prior to
their deaths. Because of this, white clothing came to “symbolise misfortune and
suffering” (Sumpter 2006, 12) and quickly became the clothing representative of the
yurei in Edo-period illustrations and Kabuki plays. Similarly, the long, dark hair is a
stark visual reminder of the life that was stolen from the woman as, according to Sara

L. Sumpter (2006, 11), the long, dark hair is a symbol of the “cessation of the
woman’s natural life cycle”. Furthermore, as the fashion standards of Edo Japan saw
women wearing their hair up in elaborate hairstyles, the long hair falling across the
face of the yurei easily distinguished them as ‘others’, out of place and time, in
illustrations from the era.
However, the use of these features varies heavily in contemporary yurei films. While
Ringu relied heavily on early written and illustrated Japanese folklore to bring
Sadako, the young ghost haunting the female protagonist, Asakawa Reiko, to life,
other films such as Dark Water retain certain thematic elements, such as a heavy
connection to water and a burning need for revenge while eschewing the more
traditional costuming choices for something more contemporary. Furthermore, the
yurei film is often combined with other Japanese horror genres, most typically the
techno-horror, to enrich their narratives with the historical and folkloric weight of the
yurei while not overtly conforming to traditions. The film Kairo (Pulse, Dir: Kiyoshi
Kurosawa: 2001) exemplifies this generic hybridity in its story of isolation, social
decay and anger. The film uses the internet “as a conduit between the two planes of
existence” (Balmain 2008, 183) that spirits use to try to return to the world of the
living. The spirits do not conform to the traditional iconographic traits of the yurei in
that there are no white dresses and the spirits are both male and female; however, the
film taps into the anger, frustration and vengeful desires of the spirits. This is also
true for several contemporary Japanese zombie films, to be discussed in greater detail
in Chapter Six, which evoke the spirit of the yurei while not overtly depicting them
through costuming or other aesthetic choices.
Japanese horror cinema is made up of distinct visual and generic sub-genres that
have a strong relationship with Japanese folklore and theatre traditions. However, the
industry has also been influenced by Western influences, primarily in regards to the
impositions placed on the industry following the Second World War and the thematic
reactions of Western influences on Japanese culture society. Furthermore, scholars
such as Richie and Anderson (1982) emphasise the cycle in which Japanese creatives
accept, assimilate and transform external influences into unique interpretations that
are culturally relevant to the Japanese. This tendency ties directly into this study’s

exploration of the acceptance, assimilation and transformation of the Western
zombie genre into the Japanese horror cinema. In what ways have Japanese
filmmakers assimilated the genre and transformed it into something better suiting
Japanese society and creating something “rich, strange and always ‘Japanese’”
(Richie quoted in Knowles 2002, NP)?
As the following chapters will explore, the Japanese zombie film does not sit neatly
within the confines of Japanese horror, but neither does it conform to the standards
of the Western zombie sub-genre. The Japanese zombie film sits between the two
worlds, assimilating and recontextualising both Japanese and Western genre
conventions and tropes. The basis for the Japanese zombie film has clear ties to the
West and while this chapter has discussed the presence of Western influences in
Japanese horror, these influences are rarely present with the overt intertextuality as
depicted within the Japanese zombie film. Chapter Six, which examines the Japanese
zombie film in relation to cult films, explores the many ways Japanese zombie films
have demonstrated intertextual connections to the Western zombie genre. From
mentioning Western zombie and horror icons like George A Romero and Bruce
Campbell in Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies to creating direct visual and
thematic parallels in Big Tits Zombie.
However, the Japanese zombie film is also heavily rooted within Japanese horror
cinema. The sub-genre borrows from many of the genres explored within this
chapter, and utilises the cultural significance of particular Japanese horror
conventions and themes to align the Japanese zombie film more within a Japanese
context. As Chapter Five explores this in greater detail, threads of Japanese horror
cinema, from vengeful females wronged by the men in their lives to ash clouds
disfiguring and mutating Japanese citizens, appear in a significant number of
Japanese zombie films. While they may not be immediately recognisable as
conforming to Japanese horror conventions, their links to the genre become clear as
particular conventions, themes and character types are broken down.
While this chapter has categorised Japanese horror cinema into neat genres, there is
often a level of intertextual interaction between genres. The contemporary yurei film

is likely to have heavy connections to the techno-horror, as evidenced in films like
Pulse and Ringu, and the splatter-gore films like Tokyo Gore Police and Robo-geisha
often borrow narrative arcs, characters and tropes from the yakuza, samurai and
daikaiju genres. However, in spite of this interaction, these films often utilise one
sub-genre as the primary focus whilst drawing inspiration from the others to add
depth and complexity to their films. Aesthetically, for example, Pulse shares a great
deal with the yurei film but its primary narrative and thematic aim is better aligned
with the techno-horror. The Japanese zombie film also conforms to this method;
however, as is perhaps the defining quality of the Japanese zombie film, it tends to
be greatly exaggerated. The Japanese zombie film does not use one genre’s
aesthetics to reinforce the theme of the primary genre; rather, it merges multiple
genres to create films that are largely undefinable. Is Helldriver a splatter-gore film
that uses elements from zombie, comedy, war, animation, samurai, pinku and
daikaiju genres to tell its story, or is it a zombie film that incorporates the samurai,
comedy, war, animation, pinku, and daikaiju, splatter-gore elements to align the film
better for Japanese audiences? As the following chapters will explore, the Japanese
zombie film is at once uniquely Japanese and quite different from standard Japanese
horror cinema.
Conclusion
Contemporary Japanese horror cinema is an amalgam of traditional Japanese theatre

and cinema traditions, from centuries old stage techniques, archetypes and narratives
to reactions by filmmakers to momentous historical, political or social changes to
Japanese society. It has also been enormously impacted upon by Western culture,
primarily as a result of the Allied occupation following WWII. The mix and conflict
between traditional and modern, Western and Japanese, resulted in sub-genres, such
as the daikaiju, techno-horror and Edo Gothic, which through thematic and stylistic
characteristics ruminate the state and future of Japanese society. While these genres
may parallel Western genres - for example, the popularity of the daikaiju mirrors the
monster boom of the 1930s in Hollywood - they are inexplicitly wound with
Japanese aesthetics and cultural specificity.

Furthermore, many of the Japanese horror sub-genre’s aesthetics and thematic
centres serve as the basis for the contemporary trend of Japanese zombie films. This
chapter served to provide the historical, industrial and generic base upon which the
Japanese zombie film is built. The next chapter examines the Japanese zombie film
from its infancy to the present and within the analysis further contextualises the
similarities and generic similarities that tie the Japanese zombie film to the broader
Japanese horror genre while also exploring how the sub-genre conforms to or
diverges from the key Western zombie generic conventions.
Chapter 5: Japanese Zombie Films
This chapter unpacks several key narrative and aesthetic elements of the Japanese
zombie film. The primary areas of focus in this chapter involve the origins of the
undead, the cognitive abilities of the zombie and the size of the zombie threat. These
categories were first explored in Chapter Two as they pertained to the contemporary
Western zombie film. While the focus is ultimately on the various ways the Japanese
zombie films construct their narratives and use the zombie within these films, this
chapter begins a dialogue as to how these choices either conform or split from the
status quo set by the Western zombie genre.

The Western zombie in Japan and the introduction of the Japanese zombie film
The origins of both the international and Japanese zombie film production booms
have been credited with the immense popularity of the 1996 Japanese zombie
survival horror videogame, Resident Evil, which was originally titled Biohazard in
Japan (Balmain 2008, Wing-Fai 2012, Russell 2006). Devised primarily as a game to
incite fear and transport the player into a horror movie (Russell 2006, 171), Resident
Evil took a great number of cues from iconic zombie films, such as Night of the
Living Dead and Zombi, from the depiction of the shambling undead to the dark
mise-en-scène that permeate these games. Poole (quoted in Russell 2006, 172)
believes that the atmospheric qualities at the core of much of Resident Evil’s success
as a videogame have lifted “wholesale the camera angles and action sequences from
Romero’s own classic zombie flicks such as Dawn of the Dead”.
Heralded as the instigator for the survival horror videogame genre, the game
Resident Evil was “an overnight success” (Russell 2006, 171), earning approximately
US$24 million in sales internationally (Balmain 2008) while also spawning
“subsequent games, a series of novels, comics, action toys, replica items” (Hand
2004, 127) and, at the time of writing, a five-film-series produced by US production
companies and a sixth movie planned for release in the next few years (Chitwood
2014).
However, prior to the release of the videogame Resident Evil, Japanese filmmakers
had only timidly attempted to produce zombie films for local audiences. While
Western films such as Dawn of the Dead were successful upon release at the
Japanese box-office, Japanese films such as Kazuo Komizu’s Battle Girl (The Living
Dead in Tokyo Bay, 1991) were released to lukewarm reactions from audiences and
failed to inspire filmmakers to follow in their footsteps. It was not until the late
1990s and early 2000s that Japanese filmmakers were able to capitalise on Resident
Evil’s success and produce films such as Wild Zero (Dir: Tetsuro Takeuchi, 1999)
and Junk (Junk: Shiryō-gari. Dir: Atsushi Muroga, 2000), which achieved greater
popularity and critical attention both in Japan and overseas.
Japanese Zombie Films 115

In his book Zombie Movies: The Ultimate Guide, Glenn Kay (2008, 219) describes
Junk: Shiryō-gari as “an early attempt by Japanese filmmakers to capitalise on the
success of videogames like Resident Evil”. In Junk: Shiryō-gari a group of amateur
jewel thieves accidentally find themselves in an abandoned warehouse that was
home to secret military experiments to try to reanimate the dead. While Kay (2008,
219) remains lukewarm on the “unclear and incoherent” movie as a whole, he
expands on this to credit the film as “briskly paced, action packed and filled with
‘pandemonium’” and states that the zombies are “Fulci-inspired, charred and blood
covered”. Todd Wardrope (ND, 3) is more positive than Kay, stating that Junk:
Shiryō-gari is “full of gut-chomping, exploding heads and many walking corpses”
and credits the film as a “re-invigoration of the zombie genre well before 28 Days
Later”.
Although there have been varying levels of success for a number of Japanese
zombie films produced over the past decade, for the most part they represent a minor
sub-genre in Japanese horror cinema. The vast majority are released as direct-to-
DVD films or spend a few days at most in the cinema, serving more as an
advertisement for the coming DVD than as a genuine film release (Yoshikazu 2014).
Judging by box-office receipts, however, this seems to be more a public tendency
towards domestic zombie films rather than Western blockbuster zombie titles. While
no Japanese zombie film at the time of writing has either made it into the top 100
grossing films per annum in Japan or broken one billion yen at the Japanese box-
office, several American films have succeeded in this manner. In 2002, the original
Resident Evil film (Dir: Paul W. S. Anderson, 2002) was the seventeenth most
lucrative film in the Japanese box-office (Boxofficemojo.com, 2014). In 2005,
Romero’s Land of the Dead was ninety-first in Japan’s yearly box-office receipts
while in 2010 Resident Evil: Afterlife came in at number seven (Boxofficemojo.com,
2014) and netted JPY4.7 billion at the Japanese box-office (MPPAJ 2014). Most
recently (2013) World War Z was number 28 of 167 films (Boxofficemojo.com
2014), which grossed over one billion yen for the year, earning JPY1.93 billion at the
box-office. This firmly demonstrates that while the zombie does have a healthy
presence in Japan in terms of box-office takings and audience consumption, the
popularity of films does appear to be skewed towards high-budget Western films.

Japanese zombie films are generally independently produced—with independence
defined here in relation to both the Japanese studio system and the Hollywood
majors—and the key creatives at the core of the most commercially successful and
cult-status Japanese zombie films is a group of approximately a dozen key directors,
writers, effects artists and producers who frequently work on one another’s films.
These filmmakers, who include Yudai Yamaguchi, Ryuhei Kitamura and Naoyuki
Tomomatsu, lend their professional expertise to other filmmakers working with the
zombie genre as well as on other more mainstream Japanese horror films. For
instance, Yoshihiro Nishimura has worked as the writer, director, makeup special
effects artist or character designer for half a dozen zombie films, including
Helldriver (2011), Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead (2011) and Zombie TV
(2013). Similarly, Nishimura has worked as an effects artist for several Noboru
Iguchi titles, including Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead and Nuigulumar Z
(2013), and Iguchi has appeared in an acting cameo for Nishimura’s Helldriver.
While these directors are known primarily for their work in the horror genre more
broadly rather than being considered only zombie movie specialists, they are among
the leading filmmakers producing Japanese zombie films and are instrumental to the
visibility and development of the sub-genre within the context of Japanese horror
cinema. Nishimura (2014) states that he believes that the zombie genre will
experience growth in Japan and that he will “always be around to help those creators
achieve the cruel effects and special makeup they need to realise their ideas”.
As independent films, the majority of Japanese zombie films are made on low
budgets (Ito 2014, Iguchi 2014). Production companies such as Sushi Typhoon—
which was a subsidiary of Nikkatsu (Sushi Typhoon 2012)—have produced zombie
films such as Helldriver (2010), with a substantially higher budget than most
independent filmmakers would receive. Sushi Typhoon was a relatively new
production company having only been formed in 2010 (Sushi Typhoon 2012). The
primary aim of Sushi Typhoon was to introduce some of Japan’s extreme and cult
directors to Western audiences. As a director on Sushi Typhoon’s roster, Yoshihiro
Nishimura’s zombie film Helldriver was made with the relatively high budget of
US$600,000.

Internationally, the zombie films by the aforementioned Japanese directors circulate
in international film festivals specialising in cult cinema, Asian horror and horror
cinema more generally and include festivals such as Fantasia, Fantastic Fest and the
Puchon International Fantastic Film Festival. Zombie TV (2013), Yoshihiro
Nishimura’s latest anthology film dedicated to zombie skits and short films, played
at several well-known film festivals including Sitges Film Festival, Fantasia
International Film Festival and Brussels International Fantastic Film Festival as well
as numerous Japanese and horror film festivals hosted in America, Europe and
Australia.
The Japanese zombie
Origins of the undead

Until quite recently, a critical issue facing the reception and growth of Japanese
zombie movie production is the believable depiction and make-up design of Japanese
zombies. When George A. Romero infused the Haitian voodoo zombie with the
ghoul, he changed the origins of this monster. Rather than the ‘zombie’ being a dead
human being brought back to life and controlled by magic, the zombie was
reanimated through other means. Whether the zombie character was reanimated via
biological, religious or extra-terrestrial means depends on the individual film, but a
crucial moment in the vast majority of Western zombie films up until the early-2000s
was a scene focussing on dead bodies climbing out of graves and cemeteries to
wreak havoc on the living. While Japanese directors like Yoshihiro Nishimura
indicate a desire to include a cemetery scene in their films, they do not feel as though
textually it would work as “it wouldn’t appear truthful here” for a Japanese audience
(Nishimura 2014). Religious funerary customs within Japan, coupled with issues of
population density and limited space necessitated the Japanese government to advise
cremation over burial (Hays 2009, NP), have resulted in Japan having one of the
world’s highest percentages of cremation. In 2010, approximately 99.94 per cent
(EFFS 2011) of those who died in Japan were cremated. As a consequence, the high
cremation rate in Japan complicates a critical aspect of zombie movie mythology for
Japanese audiences. Without physical remains, how can the zombie exist to terrorise

the audience? While many contemporary Western zombie films now utilise
alternative means to the reanimation of the zombie - for example the rage virus in 28
Days Later (2002), which transforms a living person into a zombie without dying
first - when Japanese filmmakers were first experimenting with the genre in the early
1990s, this explanation was relatively unheard of in Western films.
This conundrum was also an issue prior to the production of the first Japanese films.
As Jim Harper (2008) observes, for the Japanese release of the film, prints of
Romero’s film Dawn of the Dead were recut to explain that radiation from a passing
asteroid had resulted in the zombie outbreak and served as a solution to the
cremation problem for a Japanese audiences. Since the release of Dawn of the Dead,
several Japanese films, such as Battle Girl (1991), Wild Zero (1999) and Helldriver
(2010), have also incorporated extra-terrestrial means as a way to bring the zombie
to life. However, alien interference is not the only explanation provided to help
Japanese audiences accept the zombie. Some, like Happiness of the Katakuris (Dir:
Takashi Miike, 2001) or Tokyo Zombie (Dir: Sakichi Satô, 2005), simply invent a
way to introduce burial into the narrative. In the diegesis of Tokyo Zombie ‘Black
Fuji’ is a mountain of garbage and industrial waste that is a convenient dumping
ground for the victims of the Yakuza. Unfortunately, the devilish mix of waste and
dead bodies has the unexpected result of reanimating the dead. Similarly, the
zombies that appear towards the end of Happiness of the Katakuris are the recently
deceased guests at a small family-run guest house who were buried by the owners to
avoid police suspicion for the growing number of dead visitors to their home. Junk
(Junk: Shiryô-Gari. Dir: Atsushi Muroga, 2000), on the other hand, employs a more
traditional explanation for the origin of the zombies by way of military
experimentation. Similar to American zombie films like Planet Terror (Dir: Robert
Rodriguez, 2007) or Re-Animator (Dir: Stuart Gordon, 1985), the zombies in Junk:
Shiryō-gari are the result of American scientists experimenting on dead bodies with
a serum known as DNX. In an attempt to explain the cause of the zombie outbreak
outside of the traditional reanimated dead context, many Japanese filmmakers chose
to incorporate personal or wider social fears into the new reanimation explanation to
tailor it for Japanese audience. Speaking of his film Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the

Dead (2011), Noboru Iguchi says that he transferred the graveyard image for one
better suited for audience members of his generation, the outdoor toilet. He said:
People in my generation, when we’d visit our grandparents they had them
and we were always scared that a hand would pop out, so I just swapped it
out for a very Japanese thing instead so people would forget about where the
zombies came from. Zombie Ass is really zombies mixed with things that I
find particularly scary, so things that my generation find scary (Iguchi, 2014).
Many other Japanese filmmakers also chose to incorporate fears and anxieties
specific to Japan, as well as Japanese cinematic conventions, into the creation myth
of their zombies to create a more specific threat than the traditional zombie.
Japanese zombies and mutation

The 2010 film Helldriver is arguably one of the best examples of Japanese cult
horror cinema. While the typical zombie narrative remains at the movie’s centre, the
film contains elements from the pinku eiga, samurai, political comedy, martial arts
and anime genres melded into the one blood-saturated and frenetic film. The zombie
origin in Helldriver is perhaps not only one of the most complicated back-stories but
also one of the most uniquely Japanese. As director Yoshihiro Nishimura says
himself, “because Japanese zombies aren’t obligated to follow the rules of Western
ones because of things like cremation…it’s necessary to come up with some
alterative explanations. I think because of that, from the start, Japanese zombie films
always came up with a very Japan-specific origin” (Nishimura 2014). In Helldriver,
the initial cause of the zombie outbreak is alien. A meteor crashes through the
atmosphere and cuts straight through the protagonist Kika’s mother’s chest, leaving a
gaping hole. Though this accident does not kill the mother, Rikka, it does cause a
starfish-styled alien to emerge and implant itself over the back of Rikka’s head,
controlling her and transforming her into a “zombie queen”. The controlling alien
releases a black fog from within itself, which spreads quickly and envelops Japan in
a matter of hours. In a news broadcast, a newsreader delivers this diegetic
information to the public by voice-over and a simulation of the event:

On May 15th, strange ash suddenly enveloped Hokkaido. From there it
spread across the Tōhoku region. Those without gasmasks were infected by
inhaling the ash. They because comatose immediately. After an hour antler
shaped tumours sprang from their foreheads. They began attacking and
eating people. An estimated six million were stricken. Thirty-six hours later
it drifted into the Sea of Japan and dissipated (Nishimura and Nagisa 2010)
The transforming ash cloud has a precedent in Japanese cinema. As discussed in the
previous chapter, in the wake of WWII, Godzilla and other daikaiju films
experimented with themes of “mass destruction, mutation and the environmental
impact of pollution resulting from rapid industrialisation” (McRoy 2008, 7). The
atrocities of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki atomic bombings were displayed through
the mutated monsters who terrorised Tokyo and surrounding areas, reducing the
cities to rubble in much the same way the bombs did in 1945. The ash cloud that
darkens the island of Japan in Helldriver simulates a similar overwhelming feeling of
dread and the inability to react or do anything to stop its effects. In the same way that
the atomic bombs continued to kill and sicken Japanese citizens in surrounding areas,
the zombies continue to spread throughout Japan even after the cloud dissipates
through the more traditional means of a zombie biting a living human. At this stage,
even the use of gas masks, themselves emblematic of nuclear attack, fails to protect
the living. In an interview for this study, Nishimura (2014) stated that the atomic
bomb dropped on Hiroshima was central to the origins of the ash cloud in Helldriver.
However, soon after the film was released, Japan experienced the devastating 2011
Tōhoku earthquake and subsequent Fukushima nuclear disaster. Nishimura stated
that “everyone was telling me that they thought a lot of Helldriver was similar to the
effects of the tsunami and the radiation from the Fukushima plant” (Nishimura
2014).
The zombies in Helldriver fall into two separate but complimentary types. The first
are reminiscent of the Western traditional zombie. The zombie hordes are slow and
shambling, with flaking and pale skin, reminiscent in some scenes of the slightly
blue makeup in Romero’s Dawn of the Dead. The skin of their arms and necks sags
away from the bone, as though the muscle is slowly rotting away. Nishimura,

originally a makeup and special effects artist, explains that creating zombie makeup
on a Japanese face is a difficult process. Nishimura believes that the contours of
Japanese faces make it difficult for the makeup to read as a zombie for an audience.
As such, according to Nishimura (2014), it is “necessary when making up Japanese
actors as zombies to give them conspicuous wounds and scars, and to build up the
skeletal structure of their faces, or to make it appear that their skin has been stretched
out somehow”. Moving away from the Western tradition of makeup, however, is the
yellow “antler” that sprouts out the centre of each zombie’s forehead. This horn, a
visual nod to the stem of the Japanese-native Yubari melon, at times glows bright
yellow, signalling that the zombie queen is controlling their actions.
The second type of zombie in Helldriver diverges greatly from Western tradition.
Throughout the film, the protagonist, Kika, and her team of zombie hunters come up
against larger, more mutated zombies. Similar to the over-powering boss figure or
monster a player has to fight at the end of a videogame level, these zombies act as
barriers between the protagonists and the continuance of their story. The zombie
queen, Kika’s murderous mother, remains beautiful and lacking any hint of zombie
makeup, sans white skin and blood around her eyes and mouth. In this sense, she has
a closer resemblance to a yurei character, both in terms of her visual representation
and in her aggressive haunting attack on her daughter who she believes has wronged
her. Other “boss” zombies include a large male zombie with knives jutting out of his
skin and a zombie female with baby arms protruding from her cheeks like an insect’s
mandibles, and extra arms growing from her body. Nishimura (2014), wanting to
experiment with zombie physiology in this film, decided to focus on what happens
with the various limbs and appendages that are cut off of zombies in the many fight
scenes readily shown in zombie films. At one point, a chase begins and the
protagonists are followed by a zombie riding a motorbike made out of zombie parts,
which then attracts more zombies and becomes a car before becoming a large
zombie plane for the film’s finale, propelled by two atomic weapons that the living
Japanese government shoots at the zombie threat.
Mutation appears in several other films as well. In Big Tits Zombie (The Big Tits
Dragon. Dir: Takao Nakano, 2010) an old friend of the film’s protagonist, Lena,

appears and bloody tubes begin to sprout out of her body. It is only a last minute
burst of strength that helps Lena escape from the phallic-shaped tubes that were
trying to hold her down and enter her throat. Noboru Iguchi’s film, Zombie Ass: The
Toilet of the Dead, utilises a parasite as the cause of zombification; however, like
Nishimura with Helldriver, Iguchi uses extreme mutation of both the protagonist and
antagonist to create an extravagant finale. After populating the film with nondescript
zombies that have hollowed out eyes, sagging skin and excessive amounts of human
excrement dripping from them, the finale has the lone survivor battle against one of
her transformed friends for survival. The parasite-ridden friend mutates into an
insect–human hybrid, able to fly and attack the heroine on multiple fronts. Similar to
the manner in which Helldriver harks back to the daikaiju films made post-WWII,
the zombie–human–insect in Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead is analogous to the
giant insect kaiju-like Mothra. Although the monster in Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the
Dead does not reach the extreme size of these daikaiju, the similarity of the
monster’s design is clearly discernible.
Spiritual beliefs, familial responsibility and Japanese zombies Described by

Balmain (2008, 115) as “as far away from the conventions of the zombie films as it
is possible to get”, Versus presents the zombie, Yakuza and action genres within an
Edo Gothic framework. The majority of the film is set in a forest known as the
Forest of Resurrection. Within the context of this film, this forest is classified as the
“444th portal of 666 gates” and disrupts “temporal and spatial
connections” (Balmain 2008, 115–116) throughout all of time. As it is believed that
the “Japanese world of the dead lies not far from the world of the living” (Iwasaka
and Toelken1994, 8), the disruption caused by the 444th portal means that anyone
who is killed within this forest cannot die and will instead return to life. The film’s
protagonist, Prisoner KSC2-303, has recently escaped prison but quickly comes
across a group of Yakuza gangsters, led by the film’s antagonist, The Man.
Prisoner KSC2-303 witnesses the Yakuza gang abusing a woman and attempts to
save her from their attacks. This is the instigator for the rest of the film, in which the
Yakuza attempt to kill Prisoner KSC2-303 and are returned to life any time Prisoner

KSC2-303 kills one of them. Towards the end of the film it is revealed that the
portal’s disruption has locked Prisoner KSC2-303 and The Man in a karmic cycle, in
which they are doomed to forever fight this fight for The Girl over and over in
different time periods, living in a form of limbo between the worlds of the living and
the dead.
Kitamura’s desire to create Versus came from him believing that Japan was lacking
any “pure entertainment movie(s)” (Mes 2004, 4). While writer and director Ryuhei
Kitamura asserts the inspiration for Versus came primarily from Western directors
such as Sam Raimi (known in horror movie fandom for his direction of the Evil Dead
trilogy) and George Miller (known for the Mad Max trilogy) and the generic films
that these director’s typically create, he also incorporated genres and conventions
more specific to Japanese cinema, such as “kung fu, sword fighting” (Mes 2004, 4)
and the Buddhist philosophies that underpin the film’s narrative. The inclusion of
these Japanese elements align the film closely to the Edo Gothic films of the 1950s.
As outlined in the previous chapter, the Edo Gothic genre can be described as a mix
of otherworldly and period-specific stories that showcased “ghostly happenings,
forbidden desires and capitalist greed” (Balmain 2008, x). Furthermore, a prominent
aspect of the genre was the reaffirmation of both Buddhist and traditional ideals,
particularly between man and nature, self and spirit. This is demonstrated through the
depiction of this particular forest, which breaks down the barrier between the worlds
of the living and of the dead. The Edo Gothic film is not supposed to provide
audiences with a black and white depiction of right and wrong or good and bad.
Instead, “the boundaries between good and evil are blurred” (Balmain 2008, x-xi) in
order for the audience to reflect upon the themes presented in the film. Typically, the
Edo Gothic film is set during a period in Japanese history from the early 1600s to
mid-1800s, and deals with traditional Japanese demons and ghosts rather than the
Western zombie. However, the manner in which the three primary characters are
shown to be forced to continue along their chosen paths, fighting each other for
eternity to reinforce their archetypal roles, fits within the rubric of the Edo Gothic
film.

The zombies within Versus appear closer to the ghosts of the Edo Gothic or modern
Japanese horror than they do to Western zombies. Though blood and gore are used
with a heavy hand by the director, the zombies themselves remain indistinguishable
from their living counterparts. This may be attributed to the speed of the reanimation
or the spiritual aspect of their return. Similar to the ghostly visage of the Versus
zombies are the zombies in the film Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies (Dir:
Naoyuki Tomomatsu, 2001). While the zombies in Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl
Zombies do share more in appearance with the traditional Western zombie with their
flaking skin and cannibalistic desires, there are also ties between the female
characters in this film and the yurei of both Japanese folklore and contemporary
Japanese horror. The zombies in Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies are girls
aged between 14 and 16 years. Prior to dying, they experience an exceptionally high
level of happiness, known as “near-death happiness” before dying and being
reanimated as vicious zombies. Mirroring traditional Japanese customs of familial
responsibility, it is the duty of the girls’ families to eliminate their daughters either
prior to transforming into a Stacy or after their reanimation, by chopping them into
165 pieces for collection by the “Romero Kill Repeat Squad”. Like the yurei, these
Stacys torment both their loved ones with a powerful and aggressive wrath, whether
as a reaction to the disposal of their remains or the lack of love they felt they
received in their short lives. While the yurei are traditionally represented as ghosts,
their folklore does have a corporeal presence that can be related to the zombie:
…rising up from the darkness, yurei reanimate themselves with the flame of
their passion. This makes them partially human again, reinvested with their
original mind and something of their former bodies too – scars, blood, and
all” (Tim Screech quoted in Sumpter 2006, 9).
Cognitive abilities
In the vast majority of Western zombie films, although this is changing in regard to
zombie movies produced after 2010, it is rare to find a zombie that does more than
moan as they hunt for living flesh. Unlike human beings who have wants and desires,
the zombie is, instead, tasked with a singular drive to devour flesh (Dendle 2001).

Modern films, like Fido, Life After Beth, and Warm Bodies, as well as the entirety of
Romero’s anthology (1968, 1978, 1985, 2005, 2007, 2009) have experimented with
zombies with increased cognitive ability, whether that is an ability to communicate,
perform tasks, wield weapons or fall in love. However, as outlined in Chapter Two
of this study, these films are exceptions to the general rule that “zombies cannot
retain a sense of self—a unique, human consciousness” (Boon 2007, 36) or any of
the trappings that come from this. This rule is rarely enforced in Japanese zombie
movies. Unlike the Western examples listed above, high cognitive function only
rarely appears to be a way of exploring thematic or narrative aspects in Japanese
zombie films.
Whether it is the zombie queen in Helldriver screaming at her daughter or the

zombie baseball team in Battlefield Baseball, many Japanese zombies retain the
ability to talk, to perform both simple and complicated actions and, perhaps most
importantly, attack with weapons. This heightened ability directly relates to the high
number of action and fight scenes within Japanese zombie films. Wing Fai (2011,
111) notes that “Japanese zombie films that boast action usually focus on the plight
of the central hero/heroine…rather than the threat of the undead”. Instead, the fact
that a character is a zombie is an added threat to an already dangerous scenario. In
Versus, Prisoner KSC2-303 not only has to fight against gangsters, but he also has to
deal with recently killed gangsters who “fire guns, use knives and have the potential
to act like sentient beings” (Balmain 2008, 116) who keep resurrecting even after a
shot to the brain. The zombies in Helldriver are controlled by the queen through the
antlers on their heads, and have similar abilities to the zombies from Versus. In
Nuigulumar Z (Dir: Noboru Iguchi, 2014), the Lolita-dressed protagonist, Dameko,
has to fight against the zombie henchmen of the evil Takeshi. While the zombies act
as traditional mindless zombies for the majority of the film, they can also employ
uniquely non-zombie martial arts when facing Dameko. In this sense, the zombies
more closely resemble the voodoo zombies from the cycle of monster films made in
Hollywood during the 1930s and 1940s. While the Japanese zombie may not be
reanimated by sorcery, it does fulfil a similar role as voodoo zombies in terms of its
position as henchman. It is “a soulless human corpse, still dead…which is made to
walk and act and move as if … alive” (Russell 2006, 12); however, it does not act of

its own volition. The voodoo zombies of 1930s-1940s, such as White Zombie and I
Walked with a Zombie, are often seen as symbolic of the lack of control people felt in
the Great Depression that followed the economic collapse in 1929, whereas the
Japanese zombie is primarily an added obstacle for the hero to overcome.
While these examples of cogent zombies are utilised primarily to create more
impactful action scenes, there are two other forms of zombies in Japanese zombie
films that similarly cross the boundary with traditional zombie abilities. The first are
zombies that speak or brandish weapons for purely comedic effect. While Helldriver
had the boss-type zombies and the queen able to wield weapons and communicate,
other instances of the zombies stepping outside the traditional boundaries are played
for humour. An example of one of these humorous scenes would be either a scene of
zombies playing music in an off-kilter zombie bar, or a disembodied head acting as a
ringmaster and welcoming the newly arrived zombies. The Happiness of the
Katakuris, which is described on playbills as “The Sound of Music meets Dawn of
the Dead” (Rawle 2014, 209), only features one scene with zombies, in which the
zombie remains of the people who died forgo their traditionally monstrous role and,
instead, dance and sing with the family. In Big Tits Zombie, a scene towards the end
of the film shows three zombie men eating the intestines out of the abdominal cavity
of a woman who lies naked on a table. They use chopsticks to delicately pick up
pieces of her insides and converse with each other about throwing a party. This scene
is a throwback to a scene earlier in the film that showed the same men at a party
eating sushi off a naked dancer. Although these scenes could be judged as having
wider thematic importance within the film, their primary purpose is to surprise,
shock and amuse the audience.
In direct comparison, films such as Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies, Miss
Zombie (Dir: Sabu, 2013) and Zombie Bride (Dir: Daisuke Yamanouchi, 2013)
imbue their zombies with a higher brain function to emphasise the film’s thematic
core. Miss Zombie, similar in many ways to the Canadian film Fido, introduces the
zombie as slave labour. The zombie servant is put to work scrubbing floors and
running errands around town while being antagonised and sexualised by both the
family who bought her and many of their neighbours. One of the earliest Japanese

zombie films, Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies, also uses the zombies in a
similar fashion. Ultimately the zombie girls, or ‘Stacys’, seek affection and love
during this second chance at life, and “are not unthinking, decaying corpses without
motivation” (Balmain 2008, 122). In Zombie Bride, the protagonist, Airi, is killed by
her lover; however, she wakes the next morning as a zombie that is able to think and
reason. Scared and confused, she travels to her lover’s home only to find out not only
is he married, but his wife has also transformed into a zombie. In the story that
follows, Airi then uses her newfound zombie taste for flesh as a means for revenge
against her lover and as a way to move on to the next chapter of her life.
Size of the threat in Japanese zombie films

The iconic Western zombie film involves a small band of survivors trapped in a
building and surrounded by zombies. This model, utilised in films such as Night of
the Living Dead (1968), Dawn of the Dead (1978), Zombie Strippers (Dir: Jay Lee,
2008) and Quarantine (Dir: John Erick Dowdle, 2008), allows for the film to focus
on the survivors and portray human relationships within perilous situations. In many
of these films, the deaths of protagonists are rather ironically not caused directly by
attacks or bites from zombies, rather deaths are often incidental and caused by
emotions bubbling to the surface and personality types grating against each other.
Dramatic tension arises when characters fight to lead the group or when a bite is
discovered on a character and an argument on what the course of action should be
ensues. All the while, zombies bang against the boarded up windows or locked
shopping mall doors, further agitating the characters and encouraging rash,
emotional responses. For instance, in Night of the Living Dead, much of the tension
comes from the characters Ben and Harry arguing about the best course of action in a
bid to lead the group. Ben argues for fortifying the second story of the house,
whereas Harry believes they are safer in the basement and ultimately decides to lock
himself down there with his wife and daughter to their eventual doom. While the
climax of the film has the zombies breaking through the doors and windows to
swarm into the house, by this stage only Ben and Barbara have survived from the
original group of seven. George A. Romero states that his stories “are about humans
and how they react, or fail to react, or react stupidly. I’m pointing the finger at us,
not at the zombies” (Spitznagel 2010, NP).

While this remains one of the prominent plots for zombie films, there has also been a
clear progression in the scale of the zombie threat in Western films. The early
voodoo zombie films of the 1930s and 1940s would typically only feature a handful
of zombies who were under the employ of a witch doctor or a powerful man with a
lust for women, property and money. By the time Romero joined and reinvented the
genre, the zombie threat had increased to epidemic status. While the zombie horde is
decimated in the closing scene of Night of the Living Dead, by Dawn of the Dead and
Day of the Dead the threat was much greater and did not originate from a single
person’s bid for power. However the threat rarely spreads further than a single city or
country in these films. The most recent zombie films and television shows, including
The Walking Dead, World War Z, and Warm Bodies, show the zombie as a global
crisis or pandemic. Even when filmed in America or England, establishing shots and
exposition make it clear that no place on earth is safe from the spread of zombies.
There are, of course, outliers to this exponential growth, such as Peter Jackson’s film
Braindead (1992) or Robert Rodriguez’s Planet Terror (2007) that suggest the
zombie threat is localised to a small area, with little fear of spreading.
The Japanese zombie film, however, rarely fits within these parameters. Because of
the relative youth of the sub-genre and the disparate influences, the Japanese zombie
film rarely seems to fit well within the generic rules of the Western zombie film.
Nishimura (2014) states that while the rules for employing spirits and ghosts in
Japanese films have been long established “the rules for making zombie films here
haven’t quite been set up in a co-ordinated way”; instead, he finds that everyone is
just “doing it their own way at this point”. However, as Western zombie films have
influenced many Japanese filmmakers experimenting with the zombie, there are
some films that do conform to the quintessential model of a group of people working,
or perhaps not working, together against the zombie threat. Zombie Ass: The Toilet of
the Dead fits within this model. When a group of school friends find themselves
stuck in a forest, they end up barricading themselves within a seemingly abandoned
village. Stranded with the two lone survivors of the village, a doctor and his
daughter, the group tries to survive the zombies that threaten to attack them if they
leave the safety of the buildings. Similar to the Western model discussed above, this

film takes place within only a few locations and the zombies are not the primary
threat. Instead the zombies act as a further obstacle in the group’s attempt to survive
the threat of the mad doctor as he tries to infect them with the parasite responsible
for turning the villagers into zombies.
Other films, however, are much less consistent with the scale of the zombie threat.
As mentioned above, several Japanese zombie films use the zombies as bodyguards
or henchmen in much the same way as they were used in the voodoo zombie films
of the 1930s. In these films, among other examples, there is little to no threat of the
zombies actually transforming more people into zombies; instead they are simply
there to provide an extra obstacle within the narrative for the hero to overcome.
Incidentally, these zombies, seen in films such as Nuigulumar Z and Versus, all
retain a high level of ability to perform martial arts or other physically challenging
fighting styles that a traditional zombie would be unlikely to achieve as they are,
very literally, decaying corpses. Other films, such as Metaruka, or Battlefield
Baseball, similarly introduce a zombie character to complicate events, but without a
manipulating leader pulling their strings. Metaruka is a story about a band,
Nosebleed, who finally achieve success when they enlist the zombie who ate their
band-mate as their new vocalist. Though the threat of being devoured by a heavy
metal zombie vocalist is a prominent plot line in the film, the narrative avoids the
broader threat of a zombie apocalypse or catastrophic event common in many
contemporary zombie films.
Some of the more recent Japanese zombie films do conform more closely to the
modern zombie films that present the narrative with a “sense of apocalypse” (Wing-
Fei 2011, 111). Helldriver shows a Japan that has been decimated by the influx of
cannibalistic ghouls. While a government does remain, and people south of the wall
try to live a normal life, the threat of zombie invasion is one that looms heavy.
Violence, looting and poverty are prevalent in this vision of Japan and protest rallies
frequently form to either protest in favour of considering the zombies as alive or
against their continued existence. Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead also shows a
Tokyo in chaos. In this film and its sequels, a nuclear attack causes a reaction that
transforms the male population into sex-crazed zombies who lust after women’s

bodies and flesh. While this trilogy of films depicts the zombie threat quite
differently to the traditional Western zombie film, it nevertheless depicts Japan under
siege by an army of undead monsters. On a smaller scale, Junk: Shiryō-gari projects
a similar image of the people of Japan cursed with a potential catastrophe. The threat
of zombies through medical experimentation fits closely with the apocalyptic
realities depicted in Romero’s Day of the Dead and Robert Rodriguez’s Planet
Terror.
Although a distinct pattern of scale and threat may not be present in Japanese zombie
films, there is one unifying element found in the vast majority of Japanese zombie
films. They take place in Japan, and Japan alone. In Helldriver, the spread is
specifically mentioned to have stopped when the ash cloud dissipated over the Sea of
Japan and the characters in Versus never move outside of the Forest of Resurrection.
The zombies in Big Tits Zombie start in a small town but quickly spread throughout
Japan. It is also one of the few Japanese zombie films that show zombies within a
cemetery setting. In the Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead trilogy, the zombie threat
never extends beyond the city of Tokyo, and in Tokyo Zombie the narration mentions
that Tokyo has fallen but never expands on whether the zombie threat has taken over
the entire island of Japan. Others films, such as Miss Zombie and Zombie Bride, do
not specifically mention whether the spread has progressed past Japan’s borders
although they clearly present the movie as taking place within Japan. Like the Edo
Gothic or the daikaiju or yurei films, this threat is specifically Japanese, even if the
source came from distinctly non-Japanese origins. Regardless of whether the rest of
the film conforms more closely to Western generic conventions, many Japanese
zombie films strive to integrate the zombie within their particular culture. Nishimura
(2014) believes that “because Japanese zombie films aren’t obligated to follow the
rules of Western ones, Japanese zombie films always came up with a very Japan-
specific origin for their zombies”.
Conclusion
The zombie film occupies a strange space in Japanese culture. On the one hand,
Western films and television shows and Japanese games featuring zombies often

perform very well in the Japanese domestic market. On the other hand, films from
the Japanese zombie sub-genre are inclined to be direct-to-DVD releases and lack
any generic cohesiveness. In spite of this, the Japanese zombie film has continued as
a genre, though primarily as a cult form watched particularly by enthusiasts of
alternative cult cinema.
The Western genre is integral to the inspiration for many of the filmmakers
interviewed and, as such, there is a high level of intertextuality between Japanese
zombie films and the iconic zombie films of the West. However, while they are
referenced, parodied and quoted, they ultimately are not imitated. Instead, elements
of the pinku eiga, Edo Gothic, yurei and daikaiju genres are incorporated to create
innovative and, at times, transgressive zombie films that are uniquely Japanese.
Chapter 6: Japanese Zombies as Cult Cinema
At the end of a screening of Helldriver at Brisbane’s International Film Festival in

2012, director Yoshihiro Nishimura ran down the cinema’s stairs dressed only in a
sumo wrestler’s mawashi and spinning the zombie baby prop from the film over his
head like a lasso, using the umbilical cord as the rope. The crowd erupted in laughter
and applause as he clambered over the chairs and threw the zombie baby at members
of the audience. The ‘liveness’ of a film is important within cult cinema as a large
part of the appeal of cult cinema is the experience of watching the films, especially
amongst like-minded cult film fans. Both within Japan and in the screenings at
international film festivals, Japanese zombie films have been accompanied by
theatrical entrances and outrageous question sessions by the filmmakers. Many

Japanese zombie films fall within the definition for cult cinema not only because of
the live quality of the films but because of the prominence of key cult cinema
markers, such as intertextuality, gore, transgression and strangeness. This chapter
will look at each of these markers closely within the context of the Japanese zombie
film and provide key examples to establish the sub-genres present within cult
cinema.
Cult cinema, innovation and the Japanese zombie film
As defined in Chapter One, as a category of film, cult cinema is very broad.

Definitions vary depending on whether they are formed by general or academic
audiences as well as the method of examination. In an effort to catalogue and assist
definition of cult films, Mathijs and Mendik (2008, 1) isolated four primary elements
that inform the analysis of cult cinema. These include:
1. Anatomy: the film itself – its features: content, style, format and generic
modes.
2. Consumption: the ways in which it is received – the audience reactions, fan
celebrations and critical receptions.
3. Political economy: the financial and physical conditions of presence of the
film – its ownerships, intentions, promotions, channels of presentation, and
the spaces and times of its exhibition.
4. Cultural status: the way in which a cult film fits a time or region – how it
comments on its surroundings, by complying, exploiting, critiquing or
offending.
Each of the four elements is then broken down further into key features typically
present within the element. For instance, when examining a film in terms of the
“consumption of cult film,” it would be expected that scholars explore features such
as ‘active celebration,’ ‘liveness,’ ‘commitment,’ ‘rebellion,’ and ‘alternative
canonisation’ (Mathijs and Mendik 2008, 4-6). These elements and their associated
features are not a firm requirement for a film to be categorised as cult, as for instance
the ‘anatomy’ element includes a number of features like ‘gore’ that are likely only
Japanese Zombies as Cult Cinema 133

present in cult films that fall into the horror genre. However, this category system
offers a clear way of exploring and breaking down films in order to examine them as
cult cinema. This is particularly of importance within this study as the focus is on a
sub-genre of films that do not conform to standard Western conventions and styles.
This chapter will explore key Japanese zombie films primarily in relation to the
‘anatomy’ element of cult cinema, as this pertains to the textual elements of a film.
Mathijs and Mendik (2008, 2-4) list badness, transgression, genre, intertextuality,
loose ends, nostalgia and gore as the key features within this element, however this
chapter will focus on badness, transgression, intertextuality and gore in particular. In
an effort to conduct an analysis that is not entirely focused on the anatomy of the
Japanese zombie film, however, this chapter will also look at strangeness, politics
and allegory which fall within the ‘cultural status of a film’ element (Mathijs and
Mendik 2008, 8-10).
Many of the Japanese directors and writers involved in creating Japanese zombie
films have a background in pinku eiga, AV (adult video) and transgressive film
genres. Before entering mainstream Japanese cinema, Noboru Iguchi had a
successful career in the AV genre as a director for studios such as Cinemagic and
Soft on Delivery. Naoyuki Tomomatsu had a similar career trajectory, shifting
between writing and directing pinku eiga and mainstream films, and is well known
for incorporating elements of pinku eiga into his mainstream films, such as Vampire
Girl vs Frankenstein Girl (co-Dir: Yoshihiro Nishimura, 2009) and Zombie Self-
Defence Force (2006). In this context, it is not surprising then that a great number of
Japanese zombie films “pertain toward cult, kitsch and certainly to ‘lower-cultural
tastes’” (Rawles 2014, 225).
While innovation, both “aesthetically and thematically”, is one of the integral

features of cult films as defined by Mathijs and Mendik (2008, 2), it is also a feature
that can be found in films that do not otherwise fit the cult definition. Innovation can
be described as “shocks to the system” (Mathijs and Mendik 2008, 2) that encourage
filmmakers to challenge cinematic conventions. However, this process of evolution
is true throughout cinema, and so, by itself, innovation in a film does not inherently

lead to a labelling of the film as cult. However, if combined with badness,
transgression, intertextuality or gore, a film has the necessary makings for a cult film.
Badness and transgression in the Japanese zombie film

Cult films are regarded to be marginal; however, as Oliver Dew (2007, 60) explains,
it is not enough for a film to “be marginal in terms of its language or other cultural
content”. Audiences of cult films “desire to experience something different” (Mathijs
and Sexton 2012, 97) and this often leads to a preference for films that “break
boundaries of morality and challenge prohibitions in culture” (Mathijs and Sexton
2012, 97). Films that challenge and confront boundaries and taboos in this manner
are often considered by most audiences to be “unwatchable…unpleasurable or
inaccessible” (Jancovich 2002, 309); however, this transgressive quality is
considered by many scholars (Grant 1991; Mathijs and Sexton 2012; Mathijs and
Mendik 2008) to be a cornerstone of cult cinema. Broadly speaking, “transgression is
any act that violates law or morality” (Mathijs and Sexton 2012, 100); however,
Barry Keith Grant (quoted in Mathijs and Sexton 2012, 100) believes transgression
can be explored in relation to the “level of content, in terms of attitude, and in a
stylistic sense”. Content is deemed to be transgressive “through the representation of
acts or objects that may be considered threatening to social norms, or may be deemed
obscene” (Mathijs and Sexton 2012, 100), whereas attitude relates to the filmmaker’s
intention to cause outrage or titillation amongst the audience and the third concept,
stylistic excess, “can be understood as either competent excess … or incompetence”
(Mathijs and Sexton 2012, 100) in the production of the film.
A single read of the title, Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead, heralds the first of a trilogy
of Japanese zombie films to be a prime representation of transgression. Rape is a
moral boundary that very few mainstream filmmakers are likely to cross simply for
provocation; however, it is not one that Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead director
Naoyuki Tomomatsu shies from. Transgressive films, state Mathijs and Mendik
(2008, 2), should challenge cinematic conventions, which “allows for the
employment of far-reaching techniques that violate traditions”. The Rape Zombie:
Lust of the Dead trilogy is a perfect encapsulation of this violation. The first film
opens to the brutal assault and rape of a woman by her husband when she fails to

greet his return home to his satisfaction. As the camera perspective shifts to her
viewpoint prone on the ground, we catch glimpses of a news report on the television
behind her husband’s head. The news program is interrupted with a ‘breaking news’
bulletin that reports Japanese citizens are being assaulted on the streets, and the news
camera shifts from one woman being harassed by three half-naked men in one
direction, to another woman trying to run away from another three. The news
footage cuts back to the wife who is still being raped by her husband and appears to
be coming in and out of consciousness. Though the wife does eventually manage to
fight back against her husband and attack him with a pair of scissors, the sequence is
confronting and difficult to watch in its entirety. Further unsettling the viewer, the
opening credits that follow this scene combine shaky camera footage of women
screaming and running away from pant-less men and close-ups of women’s faces as
they are being raped with a heavy metal song playing in the background with the
lyrics simply repeating the title “rape zombie” over and over again interspersed with
footage of news reports, interviews and press conferences. It is an assault both
aesthetically and morally and the credits alone would be enough to turn away the
vast majority of audiences.
The Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead trilogy is an extreme example of transgressive
qualities in Japanese zombie movies. From the opening scene to the way the zombies
kill their victims (their ejaculate carries a deadly toxin that is fatal to women) to a
woman cutting herself at work, Tomomatsu’s film makes for unpleasant viewing.
Whereas other films, like Big Tits Zombie and Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead,
skirt the line between the overt sexuality and exploitation of the pinku eiga, Rape
Zombie is purely designed to shock audiences. In this sense, it has clear origins in the
pinku eiga “tradition of sadomasochistic imagery within Japanese cinema” (McRoy
2008, 29). Further emphasising this is the depiction of the actual zombies. The
zombies are only differentiated from regular unaffected men by the drips of blood at
their eyes and noses; otherwise, they remain unchanged from their regular selves.
Throughout the first half of the film the audience is shown through flashback the
various ways the four female protagonists have been victimised by the men in their
lives, whether they are raped by their zombie boss or by a group of athletes at their
school years before the outbreak. While they are not immediately identifiable as

zombies in the traditional sense, they conform to the Freudian concept of the
uncanny, a psychoanalytical concept commonly associated with the Western zombie
film. These men are at once familiar and unfamiliar; however, instead of the
audience recognising themselves in a corpse, they are asked to recognise the capacity
for violence and transgression we share. “They’re us” is a familiar refrain in Western
zombie films and is a thought, though sometimes posed as a question, that is
reflected on often in this film as the men who are unaffected by the virus debate
about whether the rapist zombies are inherently bad or simply nature’s answer to
Japan’s low birth rate.
In comparison, Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead transgresses traditional

boundaries of propriety; however, rather than obscenity, the film borders more into
the realm of camp in its transgressions. Rather than unsettling and unrelenting
images of rape, the audience is treated to the absurdity of zombies running bent at the
waist with their ass pointed ahead at the frightened protagonists (see Figure 4 below).
In this sense, the film conforms closer to Barry Keith Grant’s idea of transgression in
a stylistic sense, particularly in the guise of competent excess. Unlike an incompetent
cult film like Plan 9 From Outer Space (Dir: Ed Wood,
1959), which marries poor directing, acting and writing with low-quality sets and
scenery, Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead shows a competency in all aspects of
cinematic craft while revelling in displaying outlandish, silly and gross visuals and
ideas. The camera often lingers on a character’s horrified face as they come into
contact with one of the faeces-laden zombies or of the zombies oozing faeces from
their wounds when attacked by one of the film’s protagonists. Soon after ingesting
one of the offending parasites, a girl flatulates and a cloud of noxious gas in the
shape of a demon’s head escapes from her. However, the excess of Zombie Ass: The
Toilet of the Dead is not relegated simply to this level of crass toilet humour. A
similar enjoyment for excess is shown throughout the film in a number of areas.
Gratuitous shots of two of the female school friends undressing and showering
together or of a female character squatting half-naked over the toilet with her dress
pulled up to her waist and ample cleavage are common in the film. The scenes of the
school friends all transforming one by one into zombies are also examples of the
stylistic excess of this film. In a similar manner to David Cronenberg’s body horror

films, such as The Fly (1986) and Scanners (1981), Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the
Dead takes the time, through a combination of practical special effects and consistent
camera work, to show the breaking down of the characters as they bleed, pulsate,
swell and twist in torment.
Figure 4: Zombies in Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead
(Source): Iguchi, N. 2012. Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead. Noburo Iguchi. Japan: Arcimboldo
Y.K and Gambit. DVD
The relatively innocuous and gratuitous stylistic transgressions of Zombie Ass: The
Toilet of the Dead are far more common in Japanese zombie films than the
sadomasochism and rape themes of Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead. Many Japanese
zombie films, from Big Tits Zombie through to Tokyo Zombie and Helldriver, feature
scenes of either scantily clad or naked women thrust into strange or awkward
situations as well as the off-colour toilet humour of Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the
Dead. In the zombie films like Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead there is a level of
playful absurdity to its transgressions, rather than the confronting graphic displays of
sexual violence such as those in Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead. Big Tits Zombie,
amongst numerous scenes of women wrestling naked or having sushi eaten off their
naked bodies, features a scene in which a recently bitten dancer transforms into a
grey-faced zombie and reminiscent of the infamous ‘spider walk’ in The Exorcist
(Dir: William Friedkin, 1973)—an iconic scene in which the young girl Regan,
possessed by a demon, walks in an impossible spiderlike like fashion defying the
laws of physics, bends over backwards and moves towards two living women.
Unlike The Exorcist, however, the zombie then spreads her legs and shoots fire from

her vagina until one of the women shoots her in the head. Actions such as these are
prime examples of the transgressions within these films that align them with cult
cinema. These scenes would be either confronting or confounding to the majority of
audiences because of the boundaries they cross and the stylistic excess they display.
Gore in Japanese zombie films

Of prominent importance in cult horror films is a heavy quantity of gore. Whether
this is in the form of “violence, decay, mutilation or cannibalism” (Mathijs and
Mendik 2008, 4), a successful cult horror film does not flinch from showing graphic
depictions of death and torture accompanied with copious amounts of blood and
viscera. The Saw franchise (Dir: James Wan, 2004–2009) quickly gained popularity
for the elaborate torture devices that the film’s villain used on his unsuspecting
victims. These devices ranged from mechanical contraptions that threatened to crush
a person’s head if they were unsuccessful in removing it in time to rooms filled with
razor wire separating the victim from the only key to the exit. In addition to
including highly creative, albeit torturous, concepts the films did not shy away from
showing audiences the results of people succumbing to these devices. Close-ups
were used to show torn pieces of flesh clinging to the razor wire or blood squelching
out of a body cavity when a victim tried to find the key to a mechanical headpiece.
The slasher films of the 1980s (Friday the 13th 1980, My Bloody Valentine 1981, A
Nightmare on Elm Street 198) were similarly unflinching when it came to depicting
the deaths of campers and students at the hands of the villainous antagonist.
After George A. Romero revolutionised the zombie film in the 1960s, it became a
sub-genre known for its gore. Even though it was shot in black and white, the release
of Night of the Living Dead provoked angry responses from audiences and film
critics for its unmerciful portrayal of death on the silver screen. A Variety review of
the film stated that “until the Supreme Court establishes clear-cut guidelines for the
pornography of violence, Night of the Living Dead will serve nicely as an outer-limit
definition by example” (quoted in Russell 2006, 65). The Italian zombie films that
followed a decade later are known for being even more unflinching in their portrayal
of abject gore and decimation. In Lucio Fulci’s film Zombie 2 (AKA Zombie Flesh-
Eaters, 1979), one of the film’s most shocking scenes is of the protagonist Anne’s

demise. While attempting to hide in a room to escape the zombies, Anne’s hair is
grabbed by a zombie and pulled towards a thick splinter of wood aimed directly at
her eye. The scene cuts between shots from her perspective getting closer to the
splinter to shots from the side as Anne is pulled closer to the piece of wood by the
zombie. It holds on a shot of the splinter entering Anne’s eye, the sounds of her
screams puncturing the visual. Gore has become an expected component in the
Western zombie film, but especially in the cult Western zombie film, and the
Japanese zombie film does not shy away from this tradition.
Prior to his work on Helldriver and Zombie TV, director and special effects artist
Yoshihiro Nishimura was known for his work in one of Japan’s most popular horror
sub-genres, the gore or splatter film. Films in this sub-genre, including titles such as
Tokyo Gore Police (Dir: Yoshihiro Nishimura, 2008), The Machine Girl (Dir:
Noboru Iguchi, 2008) and Meatball Machine (Dir: Yudai Yamaguchi and Jun’ichi
Yamamoto 2005), tended to be highly creative mixes of gore and comedy, with
each succeeding to outdo the absurdity and levels of gore in the film that came
before. Many of the contemporary Japanese zombie films are either made by
directors with experience in this sub-genre, such as Nishimura, Iguchi and
Yamaguchi, or emulate the sub-genre, such as Big Tits Zombie or Tokyo Zombie.
Unlike the Italian zombie films, which aimed to add a level of realism in the display
of violence and gore, the Japanese zombie film tends to instead aim for spectacle
over reality. As a result, though the films are full of sprays of blood and mangled
flesh, they are unlikely to have the same stomach-turning results that films such as
Zombie 2 accomplished. However, their dedication to gore nonetheless endears them
to cult audiences with a predilection for gore, splatter and outrageous practical
effects.
In Helldriver, Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead, Big Tits Zombie and Stacy: Attack of
the School Girl Zombies, amongst many other Japanese zombie films, the blood is
watery and in high supply. A hit from a baseball in Deadball (Dir: Yudai
Yamaguchi, 2011), the sequel to Battlefield Baseball, will cause a massive wave of
blood from the injury, regardless of whether the ball hits a character in the eye, neck

or chest. A paedophile left for dead on ‘Black Fuji’ in Tokyo Zombie screams as a
two foot fountain of blood spurts from the wound left after a zombie bites off his
penis. When Lena battles her old friend Daria in Big Tits Zombie and cuts off her
head with a chainsaw, she is drenched with a geyser of red blood that shoots out
from the exposed neck. Several scenes later, Ginko is rewarded with a similarly
satisfying spurt of blood when she battles half a dozen zombies at once with only a
samurai sword to defend herself. The blood in both scenes sprays directly out of the
wound with excessive force, drenching anyone unlucky enough to be nearby. Big
Tits Zombie, however, is one of the few films in this class of zombie gore films that
relies primarily on post-production effects instead of practical special effects carried
out on set. The blood in these scenes mimic the over-dramatic nature of the practical
effects; however, the computer rendering of the blood is poorly done and it is
obviously digitised. Continuity is poor as the characters miraculously appear in
following scenes with only the barest hint of blood gracing their faces or bodies.
Helldriver, in comparison, is made almost entirely with on-set special effects to

varying levels of success. While the makeup on the zombies may be of a consistently
high quality, the blood that flows from their wounds is a closer match to tomato juice
than actual blood. However, the large quantities of it and over-dramatic spray make
it clear that the blood is not intended to be realistic, but is instead a stylistic choice of
Nishimura’s. In one scene, Rikka, the zombie queen, spins and dances as blood falls
on her like rain, while in other scenes volcanic eruptions of blood spurt from the
wounds imparted by zombies and living people alike. The review by Dave Marks
(2014, NP) for the Zombie Research Society described Helldriver as a film with “a
tremendous amount of style and fountains of blood, guts and brains” while Ernesto
Zelaya Minano’s (2011, NP) review for Filmink mentioned the film’s love of blood
and gore stating, “the sheer amount of arterial sprays which literally paint the camera
red make a film like Peter Jackson’s Braindead seem like a family movie in
comparison”.
Excessive quantities of blood, practical and digital, are not the only depictions of
gore in Japanese zombie films. Like the Western zombie film, the Japanese zombie
film does not shy away from showing people ripped to pieces when they lose a fight

with a zombie. In any number of Japanese zombie films, audiences are treated to
living people having their arms and legs torn off by the hordes of zombies, or graphic
images of bullets decimating skulls and flesh when the living attempt to flee the
undead. In Helldriver, Rikka is depicted as a depraved and sadistic woman even
before she becomes the host to the alien responsible for the zombie outbreak. Her
introduction to the film involves her and her partner eating the flesh off of a man’s
legs, as he sits there awake and terrified. His legs are reduced to the consistency of
minced meat and are covered in blood, although he seems to be surviving quite well
through the shock of such an attack. A similar scene occurs in Big Tits Zombie
(mentioned in the previous chapter), in which several male zombies sit around a table
and eat the entrails directly out of a woman’s open stomach with chopsticks. The
camera lingers on the chopsticks picking through her stomach as the zombies look
for the best bit of intestine for to sample. However, the Japanese zombie films also
complements this more traditional depiction of zombie gore into more creative
territory. In Battlefield Baseball a player has a dozen baseball bats shoved through
his body, although his wounds do not spurt any blood to speak of and in the film’s
sequel, Deadball, a girl mimics this scene, but with pens and pencils pierced through
her face and hands instead. Helldriver uses zombies in all manner of guises. It has
zombies with legs fused to them to replicate a spider; another has pins covering it
like a porcupine while hundreds of them fuse together to form a motorcycle and then
a car and then a plane. As with Battlefield Baseball and Deadball, these accruements
are rarely accompanied with much blood, so they are more comparative with
mutation than outright gore; however, as they show the body in pieces and
reassembled in a new and frightening forms they evoke a similar reaction to bloody
viscera.
Intertextuality in Japanese zombie films

While intertextuality can be broken down into many complex elements, at its
broadest it can be defined as the “interaction of texts” (Klages 2012, 44). For
instance, when one text “echoes” another through literal or explicit references,
citations and allusions (Gladieu 2014, 340) they are embarking on a conversation
between the two texts. Intertextuality is commonly found in genre films, but it is one
of the defining qualities of cult cinema. Mathijs and Mendik (2008, 3) define

intertextuality as “how a film invites comparison, connections and linkages with
other films and other parts of culture” and state that it “is crucial in determining a
film as cult”. The quality and nature of the intertextual play in a film can vary quite
substantially from offering “playful inside jokes for avid audiences” to forming “the
basis of the narrative, turning the story into a direct address of films or media”
(Mathijs and Mendik 2008, 3). In the Japanese zombie film, the level of
intertextuality varies a great deal; however, it can be broken down to fit within two
groups: films that reference and echo the Western zombie genre in particular and
those that reference a broader spectrum of genres. As Balmain (2008, 127) explains,
“the Japanese zombie film… is a cannibalistic genre, which not only references the
traditional stereotype of the zombie, but also transgresses generic boundaries”.
Western/transnational intertextuality
As the Japanese zombie film has direct ties to the original Western zombie genre,
there is a high level of intertextuality within the sub-genre. Many of the filmmakers
producing the current run of Japanese zombie films grew up with Romero’s zombie
films. Noboru Iguchi was around 10 years old when Dawn of the Dead arrived at
Japanese cinemas, but he remarks that it was the film that had the greatest impact on
him growing up (Iguchi 2014). Yoshihiro Nishimura (2014) added that films like
Dawn of the Dead are fundamental to many Japanese directors’ “study” of the
zombie. Interestingly, Romero has had a direct hand in the Japanese zombie genre.
Based on the popularity of the original game, Romero was invited to direct a live-
action trailer to the Resident Evil/Biohazard sequel game in 1998. The advertisement
was only broadcast in Japan in the lead up to the game’s release, but it became very
popular, combining Romero’s trademark zombie style with the game that his films
helped to influence. Romero’s influence on the zombie is an inescapable fact within
Japan and as such, many Japanese zombie films are littered with references and
allusions to Romero’s zombie films.
Perhaps best encapsulating this is Tomomatsu’s film Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl
Zombies. Along with modelling the appearance of the zombies closely to Romero’s
pale and bloody ghouls, the film alludes to Romero’s influence within the genre by
naming the squad in charge of eliminating the transformed teenage girls the “Romero

Repeat Kill Squads”. The only people allowed to kill the Stacys are the immediate
family or the troops in the Romero squads. However, since killing a daughter or sister
strains many people, and the transformation of the teens happens so rapidly, there are
also smaller groups of unofficial kill squads who offer up their services. One such
group who can be hired to kill is made up of young girls who go by the moniker
“Drew Barrymore Repeat Kill Squad”. Furthermore, an advertisement shown within
the film offers a model of chainsaw gloves named “Bruce Campbell Right Hand” to
families as “the latest convenient device for dismembering your daughter” (Harper
2008, 44). This is a direct reference to actor Bruce Campbell’s role as character, Ash,
in the Evil Dead films, Evil Dead 2 (Dir: Sam Raimi, 1987) and Army of Darkness
(Dir: Sam Raimi, 1992), two other Western zombie film.
The influence of Romero on the Japanese zombie is undeniable. While films like
Helldriver and Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead and Versus move past this
similarity either by mutating the zombies to extravagant levels or, instead, choosing
to model the zombies on other feared Japanese creatures, Balmain (2008, 115) notes
that the “shuffling zombies in the Japanese zombie film tend to be recycled revenants
of the zombie films of the 1970s”. While many other elements of the zombie have
been adapted and altered by Japanese directors, the speed of the zombie remains
accurate to Romero’s original vision. Unlike modern Western films, Japanese
zombies rarely run or act with the hyper aggression that has become a convention in
zombie films since the release of 28 Days Later. For Iguchi (Iguchi 2014), “My
image of zombies is that they are corpses. They do not run”. Other allusions to
Romero’s influence also carry through into the Japanese zombie film, from the
slightly blue-tinged horde zombies in Helldriver, Battlefield Baseball, Metaruka and
Nuigulumar Z to the zombie-filled military base in Junk: Shiryō-gari. Other small
nods to the Western genre exist, such as a horde of zombies dancing to “Thriller” in
Helldriver.
Towards the middle of Big Tits Zombie, two of the dancers are watching the
television and see a news program reporting on the spread of zombies through the
area. When one asks if it is real, the other shrugs it off and says it is probably a
“cheap movie. They’re big recently. Like some girl fighting zombies with a sword”.

Big Tits Zombie makes countless references to Western zombie films, but it also
shows a self-awareness of its inclusion in the recent emergence of cheap movies
featuring girls fighting with swords in Japan. While the opening scene does feature
one of the principal characters, Ginko, fighting with a sword, the protagonist, Lena,
is more in favour of wielding Ash’s weapon of choice, a chainsaw. The reference to
The Evil Dead does not end there, however, and the zombies are let loose on Japan
after the group of dancers finds a passage way to the catacombs under the town and
raises the zombies after reading aloud from a “book of the dead” they find there.
More explicitly though, the film pastiches the 2007 zombie film Planet Terror
through “its degraded colour-scheme, film scratches, right down to its pole-dancing
opening credit sequence” (Rawles 2014, 224). Planet Terror was itself a modern
reimagining of the exploitation films that were shown in the grindhouse cinemas in
the 1970s. Both Planet Terror and Big Tits Zombie feature female dancers in the lead
roles, harkening to the burlesque ties of the original exploitation films. In Big Tits
Zombie, several of the female’s costumes are reminiscent of 1970s styles, with high-
waisted nylon hot pants, fringed jackets and beaded tops. In an early scene, one
character is dressed in a pair of hot pants and crop-top that mimics the yellow and
black outfit Uma Thurman wears in Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill (2003, 2004),
which was itself a homage to Bruce Lee’s outfit in Game of Death (Dir: Bruce Lee,
1972). Furthermore, Big Tits Zombie also echoes the American film Zombie
Strippers (Dir: Jay Lee, 2008) both in title, setting and characters. While the women
in Big Tits Zombie are insistent that they are neither prostitutes nor strippers, they
spend a great deal of time in various levels of undress in their backstage dressing
room, as do the strippers in Zombie Strippers. The women in both films have specific
stereotypical roles, such as the innocent yet angsty woman (Maria), the leader
(Lena), the aggressive outsider (Ginko) and the older and experienced woman
(Nene). While this in and of itself is not a clear intertextual tie between the two films,
the faux-philosophising of one stripper in the opening scenes of Big Tits Zombie
directly parallels the dialogue of Jenna Jameson’s stripper character in Zombie
Strippers, as does her decision to join the zombies and use them to her advantage.

Genre mash-up and intertextuality
Japanese zombie films are generically hybrid films. Furthermore, unlike Western
zombie films, the focal genre is rarely horror. As Wing-Fai describes, this is largely
because Japanese zombie films usually:
… focus on the plight of the central hero/heroine…rather than the threat of

the undead. In other words, none of these fully functions as horror. Instead,
comedy, action and other generic conventions are brought to the forefront in
recent Japanese zombie films (Wing-Fai 2012, 111).
Helldriver combines horror with Claymation, alien invasion, action and comedy,
while Versus is a mix of Yakuza, Edo Gothic, zombie and action genres. Films like
Battlefield Baseball are comedic romps with touches of action and teen drama while
Wild Zero infuses the action and zombie genres with music. Zombie TV is an
anthology film that “takes more of a US Weekly approach to the material … zombie
exercise videos, zombie sex manuals, zombie romance and even zombie death cults”
(Hurtado 2014, NP). These films are all examples of the comedy genre being woven
in with the zombie sub-genre.
When discussing hybrid and intertextual Japanese zombie films, many critics refer to
Takashi Miike’s Happiness of the Katakuris. As mentioned previously, this film can
only tangentially be called a zombie film. The zombies only appear in the final
quarter of the film to join the family in a musical song and dance scene; nonetheless,
the film is still often described first and foremost as a zombie musical. However, the
film expands far past a simple two-genre hybrid film. This is perhaps best
demonstrated in Steve Rawles’ thorough article on the subject, The Ultimate Super-
Happy-Zombie-Romance-Murder-Mystery-Family-Comedy-Karaoke-Disaster-
Movie-Part-Animated-Remake-All-Singing-All-Dancing-Musical-Spectacular-
Extravaganza: Miike Takashi’s The Happiness of the Katakuris as ‘cult’ Hybrid. As
this title attests, the film splices together many disparate genres, sub-genres and
dramatic elements to “aggressively and surprisingly transgress(es) the boundaries of
genre and style” (Rawles 2014, 212).

Rawles (2014, 227) argues that genre hybridity is common within the Japanese
zombie film “where those films adopt and transform tropes from international genre
cinema”. Because the Japanese zombie film is not constrained by the rules of the
Western zombie film (Nishimura 2014) and are frequently independently funded
passion projects, various disparate elements can be included in a single film,
resulting in this hybridity. Ryu Kitamura, the writer and director of Versus, set out to
make Versus because he believed there was an “absence of entertainment movies”
(Mes 2004, 2) in Japanese cinema. Versus builds on Kitamura’s amateur film Down
to Hell (1997) and as Kitamura received his film education in Australia, he
incorporates many non-traditional Japanese generic conventions and inspirations to
introduce something new to Japanese audiences (Mes 2004, 3). The infusion of
Japanese genres with 1980s directorial influences, such as Sam Raimi and George
Miller, and Kitamura’s personal preferences for “zombies, gun fighting, kung fu
fighting, sword fighting” (Mes 2004, 4), resulted in a film that garnered both national
and international popularity.
Described on the DVD cover as the “Japanese Shaun on the Dead”, Tokyo Zombie
does share many generic similarities to the 2004 English zom-rom-com. The film’s
protagonists, Fujio and Mitsuo, share a similar dynamic to Simon Pegg and Nick
Frost’s characters in Shaun of the Dead. Mitsuo, sporting a badly applied bald cap, is
the more grounded and realistic of the pair while Fujio is his enthusiastic friend and
jujitsu student. Fujio refers to Mitsuo in the film as ‘Micchan’, which is a term of
endearment and respect. The two playfully break out into wrestling fights at every
opportunity. Like Shaun of the Dead, comedy plays an important role in Tokyo
Zombie. The fear the zombie usually conjures is replaced with slapstick humour, as
the zombies shamble clumsily through Tokyo running into walls or falling off
bridges. When Mitsuo is bitten, he eschews the usual theatrics for a deadpan, “Oops.
I got bit”, and then throws himself out of the car and into a river to the sound of a
slide whistle.
The film is broken into two halves. The first half is a more traditional comedy as the
two friends try to get out of Tokyo after the outbreak of zombies begin to take over

Tokyo. The second half takes place five years later and is almost entirely contained
within Tokyo Station, which has been transformed into a wrestling arena where poor
survivors fight zombies for a chance to join the wealthy in their protected and
zombie-free community. While still essentially a comedy, this second half of the film
splits from the buddy comedy aspect of the first half and infuses elements of the
martial arts genre into Fujio’s continuing story. The second half also incorporates a
darker and more dramatic tone. Situated between the two halves is a short animated
sequence that explains the actions of the previous five years. Heavily stylised with a
muted colour palate, the animation serves the dual purpose of paying homage to the
manga the film is based on and depicting a portion of the film that would have
otherwise required a large budget to film.
Cultural status of the Japanese zombie film
The designation of a film as a cult favourite requires more than simply containing the
anatomical elements of a cult film. In addition to gore, intertextuality and
transgression, “the cultural context within which films exist plays a prominent role in
how films come to be labelled cult” (Mathijs and Mendik 2008, 8). Because cult
films dwell on the margins and offer audiences interpretations or angles unlikely to
be discovered in traditional films, and are rarely advertised in the same manner or
quantity as mainstream cinema, they are often remarked upon for their controversy
or irregularity and are sometimes condemned by the greater public.
Strangeness
The strangeness of a cult film can mean several different things, from introducing
audiences to “rarely viewed locations” to topics or films that “may have been
deemed acceptable and even mundane during its making, it can become eyebrow-
raising material in another day and age” (Mathijs and Mendik 2008, 9). However,
particularly relevant to this genre is how audiences interpret international films as
‘strange’. Mathijs and Mendik (2008, 8) state that “some films may seem ‘normal’ to
their home countries, but become objects of curiosity once they leave that context”.
Japanese horror has long been associated with “exotic and dangerous cinematic
thrills” (Shin 2008, 2) by international audiences, endearing the more extreme

cinematic output from the genre with cult audiences. In their promotional material,
Tartan Asia Extreme’s DVD label specifically trades in this strangeness of cult
Japanese horror, promising their audiences “visceral and hyper violent” films “as
well as the shocking and unexpected aspect of the films” (Shin 2008, 3). The way the
films are marketed, highlighting the abundance of gore, perversity and extreme
violence, and situating the films as the mainstream cinematic output of Japan, serves
to orient the strangeness of Japan and its cinema in comparison with the West. For
many fans of the genre, the differences between Western and Japanese horror are a
key part of their enjoyment. Remarking on the cinematic difference between films
from Japan and the United States, Galloway (2006, 12) states that he believes films
made in Asia have a “greater imaginative freedom” that allows filmmakers from
Japan and other Asian countries to depict horrors notably absent in American film:
“While Hollywood only talks about eating someone’s liver with some fava beans, the
Asian version will actually serve it up” (Galloway 2006, 11). However, as Shim
(2008, 7) states, “the success of Tartan Asia Extreme reveals more about the Western
perceptions and obsessions about the East Asian countries rather than what people or
societies are like there”.
For the most part, the Japanese zombie film, much like the splatter and gore genre, is
expected to deliver high octane action, large quantities of blood and gore, attractive
women and absurdity. In the Western reviews of Japanese zombie films several
adjectives are likely to crop up, such as “insane”, “over the top”, “extreme” and
“silly”, amongst many others. A common theme running through the reviews is an
acceptance of poor acting or storytelling as long as the film maintains a high level of
gore and absurdity. The website Diverse Japan discussed the complexity of
reviewing Helldriver:
The storyline is all over the place and the effects are not that impressive,
surprisingly. It’s a little too long and the acting leaves a lot to be desired. But
to judge it on its lack of merits is to miss the point of what it’s really trying to
be, an outrageous, unshameful (sic) zombie romp (Diverse Japan 2012, NP).

Similar sentiments were expressed in reviews by Niels Mathijs (2011, NP), such as
“Nishimura’s films don’t aim for perfection … in order to put in as much insane
ideas and craziness as possible, other areas in the development have to suffer”, and
Jessa Sobczuk (2012, np), who prefaced her review stating that the film failed even
in spite of her “low standards for goopy Japanese splatter flicks”. In a review of
Zombie TV, Twitch’s (a popular online horror movie website) J. Hurtado (2014, NP)
follows up a brief paragraph on the film’s weaknesses by stating that “if you know
this crew, you pretty much know what you’re in for”. Todd Brown’s (2011, NP)
review of Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead maintains that the film is “very much
a film made for the hardcore fans”. As with most cult films, audiences are happy to
ignore failings in the script, makeup or directions if they deliver in the areas seen as
essential to the genre. Therefore, if the filmmakers deliver “zombie boob grabbing,
zombie musical numbers, and lots and lots of cheap looking gore, practical effects”
(Hurtado 2014, NP), they are likely to make a name for themselves amongst cult
audiences.
Allegory and politics

Allegory and politics are not unique to cult cinema; however, when a film takes
place “in imaginary times and places” (Mathijs and Mendik 2008, 9), cult cinema
circles are more likely to speculate upon the potential meaning. Allegory merges
with politics when the “powers or representations of cult sensitivities contain a
strong ideological component” (Mathijs and Mendik 2008, 10). Politically motivated
allegory was commonly used in Western zombie films. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead
has been studied for the implications it attributes to consumerism in America, and
scholars have attributed discussions surrounding race, the nuclear family and
America’s involvement in the Vietnam War to Romero’s earlier film Night of the
Living Dead. However, the vast majority of Japanese zombie cinema does not
engage with this aspect of the Western zombie genre. While it is true that Helldriver
made several minor comments on segregation and social status and Rape Zombie:
Lust of the Dead included discussion on the legitimacy and acceptance of rape in a
society with a sharply declining population and it could even be argued that
Megumi’s fear of farting in public in Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead was a
reflection of Japan’s strict approach to etiquette, none of these films focus on these

comments. These social messages are woven into such absurdity and gore that they
are easily forgotten.
Making the rounds at the 2013 international film festivals, Miss Zombie is a Japanese
zombie film that focused on allegory over absurdity. The film begins with the
delivery of a large crate to the home of Dr Teramoto and his wife and son. Within the
box is Shara, a zombie with a low level of the zombie virus, making her an ideal
servant for the family. Along with Shara the family receives a manual that instructs
them to feed her only fruit and vegetables and to avoid meat, lest she “turn feral” and
a pistol in the event that she needs to be destroyed. Shara quickly adapts to the
rhythms of her housework and cleans the house and runs out on minor errands
without speaking or showing any emotion. The rest of the town is unhappy with Dr
Teramoto’s arrangement, but along with the town’s disapproval, Shara has to deal
with the unwanted attention of several men from the town. Unable to resist or
protest, Shara is raped by two of the family’s workers and again by Dr Teramoto.
Mrs Teramoto shows little sympathy for the beleaguered zombie until her son,
Kenichi, drowns and she begs Shara desperately to bring him back to life, even if it is
the life of a zombie. Tension builds as a connection between Shara and Kenichi
grows, much to the disapproval and jealousy of Mrs Teramoto, and Shara’s memory
of her life before becoming a zombie, pregnant and struggling to avoid the hordes of
zombies, slowly comes back to her. The climax of the film shows Shara running
away with Kenichi with Mrs Teramoto chasing after them with a gun, before turning
the gun on herself. Upon seeing his mother’s death, Kenichi attempts to bite her to
bring her back to life, an act Shara completes for him. As the true mother and son
embrace in the new post-death life, Shara takes the gun and shoots herself in the
head.
Maggie Lee (2013, NP), writing for Variety, describes Miss Zombie as “a deadpan
social satire, an ode to motherhood, and a self-consciously grungy homage to classic
silent horror-thrillers”. Unlike the other zombie films produced in Japan, Miss
Zombie is a film of quiet contemplation. The film unfolds slowly, revealing pieces of
Shara’s past and her traumatic stay with the Teramotos amongst repetitive scenes of
her scrubbing the floor of the porch day after day. Ayaka Komatsu, the actress who

plays Shara, is best known from her career as a gravure idol, which is similar to a
swimwear model. The film rarely focuses the camera on her face, instead slowly
traversing her body, objectifying her in the same manner as the doctor and the two
workers who rape her. By casting a woman who is known almost entirely for her
looks into a role in which she has no independent thought or ability to fight or
protest, the director, Sabu, is making a statement on the objectification of women and
the erasure of their personal identity. The men in the film, much like the men who
look at photos of Komatsu in her swimwear, do not see her as a person. Instead they
see her as a body, or a series of body pieces there to be taken and enjoyed. Her
humanity is completely stripped away by them; however, it returns in the relationship
that develops between her and Kenichi. As her relationship with her son-through-
reanimation grows, the memories of her earlier life begin to come back and she
becomes in touch with emotions that she was not able to reach when she was a
zombie. In addition to the statement on female objectification, the film becomes an
allegory for the emotional wreckage caused by traumatic events. While Shara gives
birth to a child who is alive and appears fine, she dies on the operating table and once
reanimated as a zombie she is separated from him. Her existence as a zombie is
comparable to the depressive state of a parent who has lost a child or someone who
has received a similarly devastating blow. Remarking on the film, Alex Riviello
(2013, NP) states that Miss Zombie is “A sad contemplative look at what it means to
be human”. Matt Barone (2013, NP) agrees with this perspective, stating that “Sabu
has done something special here, tapping into the inherent humanity found within
zombie fiction without neglecting the horror genre’s need to unsettle”.
Conclusion
The Japanese zombie film conforms to many of the expectations of cult cinema.
Helmed by a collection of directors with backgrounds in pinku eiga and Japanese
splatter and gore horror, the burgeoning genre assimilates many of the cult elements
that populate their earlier films. The films all have a high threshold when it comes to
transgression and gore, delivering to their audience copious amounts of blood and
carnage. The prevalence of gore and stylistic excess is often delivered in place of a
cohesive script or quality acting, yet fans of the genre, as per the reviews found

online, appear willing to sacrifice these areas if a film offers up an over the top
display of cult cinema favourites.
Like the Western zombie film, the Japanese zombie film is heavily intertextual. The
majority of Japanese films either reference the Western zombie canon in their
dialogue, setting or mise–en-scéne or they are an intertextual melange of genres
popular in Japanese cinema. Unlike the Western zombie film, however, the Japanese
zombie film is less likely to deliver an allegorical or political message within the
film, instead favouring extensive special effects and creative ideas. The 2013 film
Miss Zombie is an exception to this, instead delivering a quiet and contemplative
film that eschews the bright colours and outrageous zombies for a black and white
treatise on motherhood and trauma.
The following chapter will explore the differences and similarities introduced in this
and the preceding chapter more critically, assessing the aesthetics, conventions and
quality of both the US and the Japanese zombie films to ascertain what the Japanese
zombie film brings to the genre.

Chapter 7: Discussion and Conclusion
Like horror cinema in any country, Japanese horror is heavily influenced by cultural,
social and religious traditions specific to Japan. As a result the most prolific sub-
genres are those which perhaps best represent these traditions for the audience. The
daikaiju eiga, as discussed, focuses heavily on a Japan paralysed by nuclear
weaponry but which continues to experiment with it. This techno-horror replaces
nuclear fears with worries of isolation and alienation in a country preoccupied with
technological advances. The yurei narrative comes from early story-telling traditions
and, like the Edo Gothic, had a heavy role in the success of Japan’s theatre. In all of
these genres, death lingers over the narrative, whether in a literal sense as with the
yurei seeking revenge for past wrongs, or in a more symbolic sense as depicted in the
techno-horror in which people’s loss of identity and relationships is akin to a
physical death. Though the horror genre has been a part of Japanese cinema since the
1950s, the re-emergence and rising popularity of the Japanese horror film in the late
1990s proved to be a creative and financial success both within Japan and
internationally.

Although the output of Japanese zombie production has become quite significant in
recent years in comparison with the United States and the United Kingdom, unlike
these countries the Japanese zombie genre is still finding its grounding as a
sustainable filmmaking culture. This chapter examines the Japanese zombie genre
alongside the Western zombie genre to critically examine the similarities and
differences that exist between the two and discuss the impact that this has on not
only zombie scholarship, but scholarship on the horror genre in general.
Furthermore, by examining the role of the wider Japanese cinema tradition and cult
cinema on Japanese zombie movies, this chapter will evaluate the function of
Japanese zombie movies as a tradition of production and a sub-genre and delineate
the impact of this study on the broader understanding of genre, horror films and the
zombie.
Comparing Japanese and Western zombie films
It proves difficult to compare the Japanese zombie film with the Western zombie
film. Whereas Western zombie films commonly follow a series of narrative and
aesthetic conventions relevant to particular market and aesthetic cycles relevant to
particular historical periods (e.g. the voodoo, Romero and hyperzombies), the
Japanese zombie film both draws its conventions and textual elements from the full
gamut of Western zombie cinema lore, and incorporates culturally unique generic
conventions. Therefore, while it is possible to make blanket statements about
Western zombie films by stating, for example, that modern Western zombie films are
experimenting heavily with raising the cognitive abilities of the zombies, or that
1950s American zombie films were heavily influenced by Cold War fears, such
statements are more difficult to make in relation to Japanese zombie films. As
Helldriver director Nishimura states, “Everyone is just kind of doing it their own
way at this point…the rules for making zombie films here haven’t been set up in a
coordinated way yet” (Nishimura, 2014).
Discussion and Conclusion 155

Although the disparate nature of Japanese zombie films complicates a comparative
analysis, this section will explore the primary conventions of the Western film and
consider the similarities and differences that exist in key Japanese zombie films.
Defining the zombie

The physical appearance of the Western zombie monster, their capabilities (and the
threat they pose) and their cognitive abilities as undead monsters have slowly
evolved since its cinematic inception, yet the most popular and enduring archetype
across film and television is the zombie conceived by Romero in his film Night of
the Living Dead. The Romero zombie shuffles its decaying and gore-covered body
slowly and with the single purpose of consuming human flesh. As demonstrated in
the previous chapter, the zombie has appeared in various forms in Japanese zombie
films. While some retain the iconic decayed and bloody look made famous by
George Romero, others move past these traditional conventions and introduce their
own mutations, adornments or hybrid forms. Similarly, the cause for the outbreak
varies from film to film. Helldriver and Wild Zero both use threats or contagions
from outer space as the instigators of the zombie outbreak, whereas the zombies in
Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead are controlled by a parasite and the rapist
zombies in Rape Zombie: Lust of the dead are transformed by a nuclear contagion.
These origins allowed for the Japanese filmmakers to experiment with the zombie
while passing the cremation hurdle that had hobbled filmmakers in the past.
Though a great deal of variety exists in the Japanese zombie film in this regard, the
same could be said for the Western zombie. Kay (2008, 1) states that contemporary
post-2000 zombie films, such as 28 Days Later, “broadened the definition beyond
the walking dead to include still-living characters infected with an incurable disease
that extinguishes their personalities and turns them into bloodthirsty killer”.
Although the Romero zombie remains ubiquitous within the contemporary zombie
genre, the emergence of the hyperzombie has propelled the zombie genre into new
territory. For instance, the contemporary zombie may no longer be dead but rather
living people struck with an incurable disease that spreads quickly and causes the
person to act as we would expect from the traditional dead zombie. In Quarantine,
for example, zombies are, in fact, living people who are suffering from a new form

of rabies, whereas the zombies in 28 Days Later are infected with a rage virus that
was spread after a group of animal rights activists released contaminated monkeys in
a laboratory. These two films are also examples of the ‘hyperzombie’ archetype that
has grown in popularity since 2002. Rather than a slow and claustrophobic presence,
the hyperzombies are aggressive and move with great speed and dexterity.
Contemporary films have also begun to experiment with increasing the cognitive
ability of the zombie. Life After Beth and Warm Bodies are both zombie films that
incorporate zombies into the romantic-comedy genre and feature a romantic
relationship between a zombie and a living person. By reintroducing the zombie as a
love interest as well as a threat, the narrative shifts from the traditional zombie story
into something entirely different.
Therefore, while the Japanese zombie films typically approach the genre and the
zombie figure very differently to what is expected in Western zombie films, in many
regards they conform to traditional zombie filmmaking practices. Experimentation
and evolution have long been integral components of the zombie genre. Explaining
the frequent adaptation of the cinematic zombie, Bishop (2010, 18) states that the
zombie traditionally “represented a stylised reaction to cultural consciousness and
particularly to social and political injustices”. With 80 years of cinematic
representation, both Japanese and Western filmmakers can choose to adopt the
characteristics and conventions of a particular era of zombie cinema, from the early
enslaved model to the iconic Romero archetype.
Spreading the outbreak

It is hard to find a Western zombie film, especially those within the post-apocalyptic
survivalist narrative, which does not contain a scene in which a beloved central
character escapes an encounter with the zombies only to discover that they have been
bitten. In the case of contemporary zombie films featuring “living” zombies like 28
Days Later, this is depicted in moments such as Frank’s (played by Brendan
Gleeson) realisation that the drop of infected blood that landed in his eye is going to
transform him in a matter of seconds, or in World War Z in which they discover that
the time it takes to transform into a zombie is shortening as the outbreak continues to
spread across the world. These scenes are noticeably absent in the majority of

Japanese zombie films. This may be the case for several reasons. Many Japanese
zombie films shy away from the traditional Western survival narratives; rather than
being holed up in a house or a shopping centre, the protagonists, whether alone, in a
couple, or a group, are more proactive. Instead of hiding and surviving, the
protagonists arm themselves with an arsenal of extreme weapons and seek out the
cannibalistic ghouls. Furthermore, the presence of the zombies often is not a case of
the protagonist being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Instead, they are the
Yakuza hunting down an escaped prisoner as in Versus, the mother and uncle of the
protagonist as in Helldriver, or the rival baseball team as in Battlefield Baseball.
There are personal reasons why the protagonist is involved in the narrative, and in
some of the cases they may be the only people affected by the zombies at all.
Because of this, the spread of the zombie outbreak is of less importance than the
quest or narrative progression of the film’s protagonist.
However, the absence of the transformation bite as a core component of the narrative
is likely due to one very simple reason. Very few Japanese films spread the outbreak
through bite. In the post-Romero Western film zombie, even those in which the
initial cause is from nuclear exposure or an extra-terrestrial source, the outbreak is
viral in nature. While any death will instigate the transformation from living person
to zombie, contact “as little as a nip or scratch” (Smith 2009, 42) will also kick-start
the process. This form of transformation is often avoidable or would not normally
result in death, which makes the change all the more impactful. While this is the case
for the majority of Western films, Japanese zombie films shift away from this form
of transmission. In fact, there is often very little transmission taking place.
In films like Helldriver, Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead, Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl
Zombies and Zombie Ass, the result of being attacked by a zombie is death. Helldriver
does contain scenes of zombies eating living people, but they do not transform as a
result of this contact. In each of these films, the initial cause of the zombie outbreak
remains the only way to become a zombie. In Helldriver, the people without gasmasks
who inhale the ash are the ones who become zombies and terrorise the living. In Rape
Zombie: Lust of the Dead the nuclear meltdown affects the majority of males in Tokyo
and turns them into violent zombies who desire to rape

their victims rather than eat them. Any bites or scratches during one of these
encounters does not transform the women into zombies, although the zombies’
semen does kill them. Similarly, it is only the teenage girls in Stacy: Attack of the
Schoolgirl Zombies who are turned into zombies and their attacks result in death, not
resurrection. Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead differs from the first three examples
slightly because the contagion has the potential to spread. However, it is only
through ingestion of the parasites that it can be spread. While the group of
protagonists were always at risk of the zombies, it was only after their meal was
laced with microscopic parasites that they were also at risk of converting into
zombies.
Exceptions to this do exist in Japanese zombie films. For instance in Tokyo Zombie
the spread of zombification through bite is central to the character arc of Mitsuo and
this form of transmission is clearly depicted throughout the film. Similarly, Wild
Zero and Rika: The Zombie Killer also depict the spread of the zombie virus through
bites and wounds sustained in an attack. However, it should be noted that these films
which depict zombies as a contagion which can be spread largely follow the
survivalist plot structure popular in the Western zombie genre, therefore these films
have an increased likelihood of adhering to Western genre conventions.
This difference in the spread of the outbreak is one of the key points of difference
between the primary contemporary output of Japanese and Western zombie films.
Where other differences, such as the cause of the outbreak, are of necessity as burial
of the dead is not common in Japan, this is a difference that appears to be purely
based on preference. Very few Japanese horror films follow the traditional survival
narrative often presented in Western horror films, so the purpose and the role of the
zombies is altered so the genre better fits into the expectations of the filmmakers and
audience.
Blurring the line between zombie and monster

When Romero introduced the concept of a “flesh hungry” (Hunt, Lockyer and
Williamson 2014, 4) undead horde in 1968, he set the standard for the genre.
However the representation of the monster has changed greatly since then. In films
like Resident Evil, the zombie is a deadly threat, able to lunge and bite, but do little

more. In Fido, the zombie is employed essentially as a servant. It still cannot talk or
communicate in any real sense, but they can mow the lawn and dance and help with
simple tasks. In Quarantine they are not dead but gain superior strength, speed and
stamina because of their infection. In Shaun of the Dead they are dead, and can only
be killed with a hit to the head. In Zombie Strippers the lead character becomes a
zombie but is still able to sprout philosophical thoughts and strip on stage.
The filmmakers responsible for the most popular of Japan’s zombie films are all
vocal fans of the original Romero trilogy and the other zombie films from that era
(Nishimura 2014, Noboru 2014). As a result, while the zombies are all wildly
different from film to film, it remains rare to see a running zombie. They may have
Y-shaped horns on their heads or parasites protruding from their rectums, but they
adhere to the general elements of the Romero zombie in that they are slow, deadly in
greater numbers and often reflect little of their past identity. This is the case in
Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead, the general horde in Helldriver, and Tokyo
Zombie.
However that is not the case for all of them. The previous chapter discussed at length
the inclusion of cognitive abilities in Japanese zombies. In some films, such as
Versus and Battlefield Baseball, the inclusion of the zombies is primarily to heighten
the “plight of the central hero/heroine” (Wing Fai 2012, 111). The enemies in these
films could really be interchanged with any monster or super-human being and the
result would remain the same, a more difficult and dangerous foe for the hero to
battle. This use of zombies is fairly rare in mainstream contemporary Western
zombie films. Perhaps if mummies or Frankenstein’s monster were currently
undergoing a cinematic renaissance they could be substituted for the zombies in
Planet Terror or Zombie Strippers, but extensive alterations to the script would
likely be required.
Both Western and Japanese zombie movies do, however, play with the idea of the
zombies retaining some cognitive ability to broaden the narrative potential for
zombie films. In the Japanese films Zombie Bride and Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl
Zombies, the zombies retain a level of cognition, which slowly disintegrates as their

transformation continues. The recently released American film Life After Beth tells a
similar story, in which a young woman (played by Aubrey Plaza) rises from her
grave not realising she is dead, but slowly finding herself drawn to the taste of blood
and flesh and losing many of her human traits as she continues to “live”. Warm
Bodies tells a similar story to these three films, but does so in reverse. Instead, it
depicts a traditional zombie regaining cognition and reassembling his identity from
his previous life. Both in Japan (Miss Zombie) and Canada (Fido), contemporary
films have used zombies as slaves and pets to perform menial tasks and entertain the
living. Rather than simply depict the zombie as a menace or a threat, these films
introduce a more complex perspective to their existence. It raises questions of power
and freedom and examines the problematic relationship people maintain with people
who occupy the “other” positions in society, such as people with disabilities, the
poor or immigrants.
In expanding the definition for what constitutes a zombie, however, Western

filmmakers still clearly demarcate between different cinematic monsters. The
vampire is not a vampire if it does not have pointed front teeth and a thirst for blood
and a werewolf must transform at the full moon. The zombie, due to decades of
experimentation and no literary traditional to be held to, has more opportunity for
change than other cinematic monsters (Bishop 2010); however, there is still a
fundamental acceptance that at its broadest definition, a zombie is a cannibalistic
monster who increases its numbers through bite.
In Japan, as already explained, this spread through bite is uncommon, though the
trope of cannibalism is often retained. However, mutation through nuclear
contamination is far more common in Japanese zombie films than it is in their
Western counterparts. Furthermore, in a bid to make the zombie more accessible to
Japanese audiences, elements of Japanese culture have been incorporated into
individual films. The context of the outbreak in Helldriver, for example, is heavily
influenced by the daikaiju eiga monster films of the 1950s and 1960s. The zombies
that threaten to extinguish life in Japan were created by an ash cloud, which is
reminiscent of the nuclear fallout from the atomic bombs dropped on Nagasaki and
Hiroshima. The daikaiju eiga, in which giant mutated monsters threatened Tokyo,

were similarly depictions of the folly of Japan’s nuclear experimentation after the
devastating events of World War II and the future problems the country faced. My
interview with Nishimura (2014), for example, revealed that the ash cloud and the
wave of the zombie threat could also be seen as evocative of the Tōhoku earthquake
and the resulting nuclear disaster at the Fukushima plant. In either case, the danger of
nuclear science as a threat to life in Japan remains prominent in Helldriver and
retains a clear connection to the monster movies of the mid-twentieth century.
Cultural influences in Japanese zombie films go further than simply incorporating

Japanese horror conventions. The yurei or ghost has been an integral part of Japanese
theatre for centuries and is an important in the revival of Japanese cinema in the late
1990s. The white-faced female ghost with long, dark hair trailing behind her is one
of the more iconic images of modern Japanese horror and recognisable both to
Japanese and international audiences. The yurei resonates especially well with
Japanese audiences because of the cultural and religious ideas that permeate society,
in which, in the words of director Yudai Yamaguchi (2014), “a dead body leaves
behind a lingering spirit” and for that reason “for Japanese, ghosts are much realer
(sic) than they are for Americans or anyone else” (Noboru, 2014).
Because cremation practices in Japan mean that Japanese zombie films cannot stick
to the traditional zombie origin of the dead rising from the ground, however, the
Japanese zombie already has a link to the yurei. They also have similar origins to the
yokai, which are spiritual forms not dissimilar to the yurei, but can also include
goblins, ogres and shapeshifters. While different stories introduce different origins
for each creature, a traumatic or emotional event is key to the transformation of
many yurei and yokai. Tim Screech (quoted in Sumpter 2006, 9) states that the yurei
“reanimate themselves with the flame of their passion” and as such return as they
existed in life, in a physical body wrecked with the evidence of their trauma but with
additional supernatural powers.
The Japanese zombie films are not immediately recognised as assimilating elements
of the yurei genre of Japanese film as they rarely employ the visual conventions of
that sub-genre. While Helldriver’s malicious zombie queen does fit the aesthetic of a

yurei, as she is dressed in a traditional kimono with a pale, white face, this is one of
the few films that deliberately and overtly nods to the genre. Other films, such as
Versus, display their similarities to the yurei sub-genre through spirituality-based
conventions. However, as has been discussed, one of the few uniting aspects of all
Japanese zombie films is a level of cognisance that is not typical in Western zombie
films. Although yurei is a term that refers to both male and female spirits (Sumpter
2006) as is the case with the yurei film genre, similarities to the yurei folklore are
more easily identifiable in zombie films which focus on female zombies, such as
Miss Zombie, Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies and Zombie Bride. In these
films, the female zombies are women who have returned much as they were in their
previous lives and are not “unthinking, decaying corpses without motivation”
(Balmain 2008, 122); rather, they are women with a purpose. In Stacy: Attack of the
Schoolgirl Zombies, they are looking for the love they never received in life. In
Zombie Bride, the film which is closest to a traditional yurei film, after being
murdered by her lover, the protagonist seeks revenge for this wrong-doing in order to
move on with her life.
The women return because they were denied something in life and that denial or
mistreatment resulted in an imbalance in the spiritual world. However, rather than
return in the traditional sense, as a vindictive and malicious spirit, they return as a
zombie with a new form of torture to threaten those responsible for their misery and
anguish. These films are still identifiable as zombie films; however, they successfully
manage to incorporate elements of Japanese cinematic and cultural traditions with
the popular Western zombie genre. This strain of zombie, the revenge zombie, is not
motivated by cannibalism but rather, a singular desire for revenge. While zombies
have sought revenge in Western zombie films, this strain is more identifiable and
accessible for Japanese audiences as it emphasises elements common within – in this
case – the yurei figure in Japanese film and folklore.
However, it is important to acknowledge that while aesthetics, styles and

conventions characteristic of Japanese cinema or Japanese horror cinema do exist in
a number of Japanese zombie horror films, there are also a great deal of differences
between this sub-genre and the rest of the cinematic output of Japanese horror

filmmakers. While Western influences and intertextual points of reference are evident
within many Japanese horror sub-genres, these markers are especially evident within
the Japanese zombie film. While Hideo Nakata, director of The Ring, claims influence
from Western horror films such as The Exorcist (McRoy 2008, 2) this influence is less
overt than, for example, the references to George A. Romero, Bruce Campbell and
Zombie Strippers found within Japanese zombie films.
Evaluating Japanese zombie movies
While the zombie as a monster and pop culture phenomenon has grown in popularity
throughout Japan, the Japanese zombie film has not yet managed to capitalise on this
popularity. This popularity is still relatively new, and according to Noboru Iguchi
(2014), “10–15 years ago no one cared about zombies except … specialty fans. Now
everyone is loving zombies”. However, while the American films and television
shows are shown readily on Japanese television and in the cinema, Japanese zombie
films are primarily low-budget films that are released direct-to-DVD.
Although they rarely receive cinema releases, Japanese zombie films, like most
independent films in Japan, get showings at “event spaces, specialty theatres”
(Noboru 2014) as well as screenings at film festivals like the Yubari International
Fantastic Film Festival (YIIFF) in Japan or the Fantastic Asia Film Festival, now
known as Monster Fest, in Australia. For example, Haisai Zombie (Hello Zombie.
Dir: Sôichi Takayama, 2014), a Japanese zombie short film, debuted at the 2014
YIIFF and Nishimura’s Zombie TV was screened at Monster Fest in 2013, Sitges
Film Festival in 2014, Fantasia Film Festival 2014 and Hamburg’s Japan Film
Festival in 2014, amongst others.
The presence of many Japanese zombie films at the many international genre film
festivals that exist worldwide, especially the films that fall under the banner of Sushi
Typhoon, the Nikkatsu subsidiary that aims to spread “the good taste of bad taste”
(Sushi Typhoon 2012, NP), suggest the popularity of Japanese films to international
audiences. However, the reviews by well-known genre websites and magazines that
frequent these types of festivals, such as Twitch and Film Inc., do not suggest that

these films are received any better in the West; however, they do receive far greater
notice in these publications than they do within Japan.
The Japanese zombie film remains a niche sub-genre, so the budgets tend to be small
and the films that are made strive to experiment with the genre. Helldriver (budget of
US$600,000) and Versus (budget of US$400,000) are amongst the very few Japanese
zombie films to receive any significant funding. In comparison, the budgets for
Western zombie films can range from smaller independent budgets such as Fido’s
(2006) reported US$8 million (Pulliam 2014, 95) to the blockbuster budget of
US$190 million for World War Z (Box-Office Mojo 2014). The low budgets of
Japanese zombie films result in films of varying quality. Some, such as Versus and
Helldriver, are of a typically high quality in regard to the cameras used for filming,
the quality of the makeup and special effects and the lighting or sets used, as well as
post-production effects, such as editing and music. Others reach a similarly high
quality by making the production smaller, such as with Miss Zombie. Miss Zombie
limited the number of sets and extras and also chose to present the film as a black
and white film, which helps to disguise potentially lower-quality materials or
makeup while also presenting the film as something unusual within the genre. Other
Japanese zombie films are of a fairly low quality in terms of standards of special
effects and equipment used for production. Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies is
especially noticeable as a low-budget zombie film. The body parts are clearly made
of plastic, the blood does not look like real blood and the digital special effects are of
very poor quality.
The quality is of similarly unsteady nature when it comes to plot and characters.
Films like Helldriver and Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead may be entertaining
and may be attempting at their core to present a strong message, but they also appear
to favour creative special effects and spectacle over producing a narratively sound
film, free from plot holes. The same could be said for the Rape Zombie: Lust of the
Dead trilogy, which presents several interesting ideas on gender but, like Big Tits
Zombie, are ultimately exploitation cinema films that mostly appear to be excuses for
titillation. However, like much of the Western zombie genre, the Japanese zombie

film falls deliberately within the realm of B-grade horror and cult genres. The
implication of this towards quality will be discussed further into this chapter.
Because the Japanese zombie sub-genre is relatively new both to filmmakers and
academics, it has not developed a canon of films that best represents the genre or a
firm understanding of what exactly the Japanese zombie film is in terms of
conventions, themes and aesthetics. As such, there is a wide variety on how people
discuss them in terms of scholarship. The general consensus on the quality of the
genre or individual films varies greatly depending on the source. For instance, Kay
(2008, 229–230) judges Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies to be a poorly made
and uninteresting film, whereas Balmain (2008, 121–127) appears to regard the film
far more positively, as does Russell (2006, 173) who describes it as “a cheeky
zombie schoolgirl tale full of ghouls, eviscerations and Japanese teenagers dressed in
bunny outfits selling chainsaws named ‘Bruce Campbell’s Right Hand’”. However,
Kay’s book is a series of short reviews on zombie films from the 1930s to 2008.
While he incorporates a brief examination of the history of the zombie and
influences for each decade, his views of the films are primarily those of a film critic
judging them for viewers in terms of their watch-ability. Balmain on the other hand
examines Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies as an exemplar on “Shōjo bunka
or girl’s culture, the dominant force in Japanese popular culture since the 1970s”
(Balmain 2008, 121). As such, the quality of the effects or acting is secondary to the
social commentary present in the film. Russell falls somewhere between Balmain
and Kay, both viewing it as an audience member would and as an academic
presenting a wider examination on the evolution of the zombie on screen.
As such, the best way to examine Japanese zombie films appears to hinge greatly on
the purpose of the discussion at hand. However, in each case above a comparison
between the Japanese zombie film and either another film or element of popular
culture, whether in Japan or internationally, helps to focus and contextualise the
discussion. Although the Japanese zombie genre may be erratic, it is possible to
compare a number of the films in the genre, regardless of the lack of cohesiveness
they may hold as a group.

One method that would prove beneficial to the discussion of the Japanese zombie
film would be to look at them in terms of cult cinema as this study did in chapter six.
A great deal of Japanese horror cinema, especially the works of directors who began
in pinku eiga, provides a visual representation of cult cinema, and a great deal of the
Japanese zombie films can be considered cult. This introduces certain expectations of
what these films will deliver, which is especially helpful in attempting to discuss the
genre academically. As discussed in the previous chapter, Japanese zombie films
such as Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead, Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead and
Helldriver all have clear connections with cult cinema. They are transgressive, gory
and they revel in the “badness” of their plots, special effects or morals. Other films,
such as Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies, may not rely as heavily on the
transgression but are rife with intertextuality and other indicators of cult cinema.
There is a trend in the West to label the majority of Japanese horror that is
distributed in the West as cult or extreme by packaging them through distribution
labels such as Tartan Asia Extreme. Under these banners the “visceral and hyper
violent nature as well as the shocking and unexpected aspect of the films” (Shin
2008, 3) are heavily promoted and, as a result, many Western audiences believe that
these types of films are indicative of the quality and essence of the majority of films
from Asia. Shim (2008, 7) notes that many of the titles distributed through Tartan
Asia Extreme “did not top the box-office charts in their native countries, and
moreover, they are rather marginal within the region’s overall output”. This
promotion of certain expectations of Japanese cinematic output is true in regard to
Japanese zombie films too. There is an expectation that the Japanese zombie film
will deliver the absurdity, gore, grossness and “what are they thinking over there?”
(Rieber 2012, NP) bad taste aesthetics that are not as readily available in Western
films.
As a sub-genre, the Japanese zombie straddles both the traditional zombie genre and
the cult genre. This makes comparisons between Japanese and Western zombie films
somewhat difficult because while many Western zombie films made before 2000
could be classified as cult cinema, the rising popularity of the zombie film has

increased both the budget and quality of the genre since its return in the early 2000s.
This raises questions of whether it is fair to compare them to Western films such as
Shaun of the Dead or World War Z (films with significantly larger budgets as well as
different aims), or whether they should instead be compared with Western zombie
films that also cross the divide into cult cinema. Should a film like Rape Zombie:
Lust of the Dead instead be compared to Return of the Living Dead or the Italian
Giallo zombie films of the 1970s?
While many Western zombie films may not conform to cult cinema definitions in the
same manner as Japanese zombie films, it is only recently that the Western genre has
found consistent mainstream popularity. Prior to that, the genre was, excluding a few
outliers, regarded as B-grade horror at best. The prevalence of exploitation
conventions in the Japanese zombie film such as sex, nudity and moral ‘badness’ is
not similarly represented in Western B-grade zombie films, but whether this makes
them incompatible for comparison is debateable. I would argue that as the Western
zombie film is the quintessential zombie film, it is the obvious point of comparison
for the Japanese zombie.
However, another consideration is the impact belonging to cult cinema has on the
success of the Japanese zombie genre. As many of the Japanese zombie films
comfortably fit within the cult cinema classification, this does explain the lack of
popularity the genre experiences in mainstream Japan and why it has found firmer
footing elsewhere in the world, where cult Japanese cinema has a stronger presence.
However, this does also suggest that the zombie genre in Japan is never likely to
truly rise to the level set by the Western zombie genre, unless there is a shift in
production towards movies produced for mainstream audiences and cinema releases.
Studying Japanese zombies
The Japanese zombie proves to be an interesting subject of study. It is still in its

infancy, and while several filmmakers have shown support in its progression and
evolution, only time will tell if it continues to expand as a genre and if it ever
becomes a more united genre. At this stage the genre is essentially a collection of

disparate films which feature some form of zombie. The aesthetics and conventions
of films may overlap, both with zombie films from Japan and the West, but
ultimately it is a genre of experimentation and personal expression.
While the genre may still be young, it is useful to the wider study of both the zombie
genre and horror scholarship for multiple reasons. First, it is useful in expanding the
current understanding of the zombie genre. As has been mentioned several times in
this study, the overwhelming majority of zombie scholarship focuses on films that
originate in the West, namely, the US, UK and particular parts of Western Europe,
such as Italy and Spain. These areas of focus make sense as Western filmmakers are
the prominent contributors to the genre and have had a great influence over the
evolution and direction of the genre; however, by focusing on them so specifically
the academic conversation about the genre has become stagnated. Much in the same
way that Jancovich (2007, 261) raises concerns over the prevalence of a specific
canon of films in horror scholarship, the current academic focus on exploring the
cinematic history of the zombie or of the connection between the current zombie
renaissance and the attacks on September 11, eliminates the opportunity for an
increased focus on new ground that is being broken within the genre. Namely, it
ignores the fact that the zombie has broken free of its traditionally Western roots and
is being incorporated into many national cinemas. While the Japanese zombie genre
is still young it is stronger than many of the other new zombie film cultures. So by
exploring this subject, not only does it lead the way for further study into the zombie
films of Japan but it opens the door for other critical studies to be performed on the
genre as it exists outside of the prominent producers.
Second, this study broadens the definition of the zombie. This study challenges the
traditional depiction of the zombie as a cinematic monster. Whereas scholarship on
the Western zombie often looks at difficulties in definition relating to speed or
outbreak causes, this study expands this discussion even further. The breakdown of
the zombie in the “Taxonomy of the Dead” table (Figure 1) devised by Bishop
covers the typical Western zombie forms; however, it fails to encapsulate the full
gamut of zombies that exist outside the West. It does not incorporate, for instance,
the vengeful yurei-inspired zombies from Zombie Bride or the mutating “boss”

zombies of Helldriver. Furthermore, the focus on speed or whether the zombie is
alive or dead draws focus from the wider spectrum of zombies that exist outside of
Japan and the West, for instance the Jiang Shi of China and Hong Kong or the
zombies in Norway that rely heavily on the mythology of the Norse draugr. These
depictions of the zombie as a Yakuza henchman or as a horde of rapists or even as a
singing and dancing interlude in a family drama force an expanded look of what
constitutes a zombie and what is “traditional”.
Furthermore, it encourages scholarship to look at how the zombie is culturally

appropriated. A great deal of scholarship exists on how the vampire has been adapted
in Russia (Dolgopolov 2014) or South Korea (Gelder 2012) and Nigeria (Woodham,
2014) and what cultural changes have been made to make the monster best suit the
audience of each specific country. However, very little exists on this subject in
regard to the zombie. Articles of this nature do exist, such as Schroeder’s (2011)
“Trollhunter, Dead Snow & Scandinavian Folklore: Emerging From and Receding
into the Landscape” and Enrique Garcia’s (2015, 151-176) book chapter “The
Ideological Evolution of the Caribbean Zombie”; however, they are in the minority.
While the Western influence is unlikely to ever be truly absent from a zombie film,
this study has demonstrated how a Western genre can be adapted and introduced into
another cinema. Though the zombie in Japanese cinema may remain identifiable as a
traditional zombie, very few Japanese zombie films do not incorporate some element
of Japanese tradition within them. As is the case with the eclectic range of zombie
films in Japan, this may be through the inclusion of thematic and aesthetic
conventions, such as the avenging ghost typical of the yurei film or the cultural,
environmental and social ramifications of experimenting with nuclear sources and
“rapid industrialisation” (McRoy 2008, 7) as depicted in the daikaiju eiga. Or it can
be in the confluence of Japanese and Western influences, as with the zombies in
Helldriver, which primarily contained zombies that mirrored the traditional Romero
model but with the uniquely Japanese addition of the Y-shaped horn, which was a
nod to the Yubari melon stem. Or as with Versus, in which the director combined
American generic influences with a narrative which ties closely to Japanese
spirituality and the Edo Gothic genre.

Finally, by expanding the study of zombies outside of the typical Western confines, it
also expands possibilities for what the zombie is and can mean. Where scholarship
often remarks on the zombie in the West as a stand-in for consumerism and the
nuclear family or is used as a way to exemplify prevailing fears of a specific time,
such as the Cold War or the potential for biological weaponry after 9/11, these are
not necessarily transferable to a Japanese audience. A Japanese zombie film is not
likely to be making a statement on 9/11 nor is it likely to comment on the idea of a
nuclear family, which is an American/Western concept. However, if one were to look
for similar statements in Japanese films, one could remark that the rape zombies in
Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead speak of the gender disparity in Japan, which has
typically been a very patriarchal society that often views women as commodities.
There have been great changes in this area as feminism becomes more common as
women challenge the traditional patriarchal structure. Depending on the voice one
listens to, Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead could either be regarded as contesting this
new idea and wanting to convert to the more traditional model of Japanese society or
of exemplifying how dehumanising the actions of some men are when they treat
women in the same way that zombies treat their food.
Conclusions
This study set out to engage in a comprehensive study of the Japanese zombie genre
and expand scholarship on the zombie film genre from the standard Western focus.
While a large volume of literature analysing and dissecting the generic conventions
of the Western zombie film exists, scholarship that provides a detailed and rigorous
analysis of the function and cultural exchange in terms of international zombie films,
in this instance the Japanese zombie film, is limited. While the zombie has long been
an American monster, predominantly appearing in American films and ascribing to
American ideals and social anxieties, the zombie film’s post-millennial renaissance
has expanded the zombie’s territory of appeal across the world. The zombie is no
longer an entirely American or Western construct. Like cinematic monsters that
came before, such as the vampire, the zombie has been adopted and adapted by
international filmmakers. The contemporary Japanese zombie genre is rivalled only
by America and the United Kingdom in terms of output; however, it receives a far

smaller percentage of academic scholarship. Therefore, this study aimed to not
only examine the Japanese zombie film but to expand scholarly understanding of
the zombie as a monster and as a genre.
This study has outlined the development of the Japanese zombie film while also
exploring the wider generic and cultural influences that have shaped it over the past
decade. This study has found that while the Japanese zombie film is heavily
influenced by the Western zombie film conventions, it is indelibly linked to the
cinematic horror traditions of Japan. Though a Japanese zombie film may
deliberately reference George A. Romero or Bruce Campbell, or model its opening
credits after a popular Western zombie film, just as often the genre eschews
traditional Western conventions such as the traditional survival narrative.
Furthermore, the Japanese zombie genre frequently incorporates elements of the
mutating daikaiju or yurei to create a monster that not only better reflects Japanese
cinema practices, but that can embrace an entirely different meaning and purpose to
the Western zombie genre. Studying this culturally specific zombie not only provides
a point of difference from the monster that has previously been written about but it
lays new ground for a more thorough reinterpretation of the zombie as it exists today.
The Japanese zombie film owes a great deal to popular culture, both Western and
Japanese, and merges the many disparate influences into a creative genre that plays
with generic influences, styles and special effects and is entirely its own monster.
Though at first glance the Japanese zombie genre lacks cohesion, there are anchoring
points that tie the genre together. It can be stated that a large portion of them focus
less on surviving a zombie attack than overcoming it. The protagonist in a Japanese
zombie film is more likely to be a female with a samurai sword or chainsaw and a
school girl uniform than the male protagonist one would likely find in the leading
role in a Western zombie film. Furthermore, zombies have an important narrative
function in acting as a hurdle in Japanese zombie films for narrative conflict, there to
motivate protagonists into performing creative and outrageous stunts. Though there
are many exceptions to these rules, they are some of the most common threads within
a Japanese zombie film. As Wing Fai (2011, 111) notes “Japanese zombie films that

boast action usually focus on the plight of the central hero/heroine…rather than the
threat of the undead”.
The Japanese zombie film occupies an odd position within what could be regarded as
the universal zombie genre. It is both unpopular and prolific. While Japan receives
credit for reintroducing the bleak terror of Romero’s era of zombie films through the
Resident Evil videogame, very few scholars have written on its position in the genre
outside of this particular role. Although it has steadily progressed as a genre since the
late 1990s and Japan has become one of the top three regions for producing zombie
films, the term ‘Japanese zombies’ is still met with surprise by scholars and fans of
the genre, and even the filmmakers who have made some of Japan’s more prolific
zombie films. Furthermore, whereas Japan has fallen under the zombie spell much in
the same way as the rest of the world, it is the Western films and television shows
that receive wide mainstream cinematic releases and critical attention, in spite of
Japanese films having a larger audience overseas where they screen at international
horror, zombie and Asian film festivals. As a result, the genre is made up almost
entirely of low-budget independent films that receive limited theatrical or direct-to-
video release; however, as this study has found, this has also permitted the
filmmakers a level of freedom to be as creative and outrageous with their
interpretation of the zombie genre as they wish.
Chapter Two of this study outlined the horror genre and Western zombie sub-genre
and found that the zombie sub-genre frequently adapts and remodels to suit changing
social or cultural mores, suggesting the ease through which the sub-genre could be
adapted internationally. Chapter Three examined transnationalism, regional co-
productions and remakes within Asia and the horror genre, and emphasised the
importance of fluidity and exchange within these areas. Chapter Four studied the
Japanese horror genre and key horror traditions within Japanese cinema and charted
the evolution of the genre amidst cultural, social and international influences. This
chapter speculated on whether the Japanese zombie sub-genre can fit within the
larger Japanese horror genre. Chapters 5 and 6 explored the genre through close
textual analysis, highlighting the elements of Japanese horror cinema, cult cinema or
creative interpretation within the Japanese zombie film. The insights of these two

chapters suggest that the Japanese zombie film is both highly intertextual and
reflective of both the Western zombie genre and Japanese horror genre and conforms
to key concepts of cult cinema.
This study is part of growing academic scholarship into international horror cinema
and the integration of the horror production from specific national production
systems into a globally integrated screen production and distribution system. Few
studies exist on the Japanese zombie film, and rarely is an entire study dedicated to
the subject. The majority of analysis available on the Japanese zombie is as
analytical chapters within wider studies, Balmain’s (2008) chapter “Zombies,
Cannibals and the Living Dead” within her book, Introduction to Japanese Horror
Film, and Russell’s (2006) section “The Resident Evil Effect” in his book, Book of
the Dead: The Complete History of Zombie Cinema are examples of this analysis.
This study differs greatly from any previous study into the Japanese zombie film
because it is wholly dedicated to situating the Japanese zombie film within Japanese
cinema and the zombie genre and analysing the films within the sub-genre.
Furthermore, many of these studies were conducted prior to 2008 and, therefore,
exclude a great number of Japanese zombie films from their analysis, such as the
Sushi Typhoon zombie productions by directors Noboru Iguchi, Yoshihiro
Nishimura and Yudai Yamaguchi, which were all produced and released after 2010.
Within these studies it can also be attested that their analysis focuses on a core canon
of Japanese zombie films, including Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies (2001),
Wild Zero (1999), Versus (2000) and Junk: Shiryō-gari (2000). While these films are
all important to the formation of the Japanese zombie genre, they were all produced
early in the cycle of Japanese zombie films and, therefore, cannot be regarded as
clear representations of the genre as it exists 15 years later. This study, however,
analyses these films along with others that have been released over the past decade.
The primary approach to the research questions was a detailed textual and generic
analysis. As the Japanese zombie film is a confluence of inspirations, a coordinated
approach of analysis to both the surface and deeper layers of the text offered the
greatest flexibility in the study.

Implications for further research
As maintained previously in the discussion, this study has several widely impacting
implications on the study of the horror genre and the zombie sub-genre. Principally,
the results of this study have broadened the definition of the zombie as well as
potential meaning and implications of the monster. This study aimed to provide a
concise and encompassing overview of the Japanese zombie film, although there are
many avenues for further research, such as analysing the Japanese zombie in
different media. The analysis within this study focused primarily on the zombie in
feature films in order to manage the scope of the research; however, there are a
significant number of manga (comics) and television shows, both live action and
anime, which incorporate the zombie to some extent. Several Japanese zombie films,
such as Tokyo Zombie, Rain for the Dead (Dir: Bishop Koyama, 2014) and
Battlefield Baseball started as popular manga series before being adapted for the
screen. Many zombie manga series, such as High School of the Dead (Writer:
Daisuke Satō, 2006–2011) and I am a Hero (Writer: Kengo Hanazawa, 2009–
current) are best-sellers in Japan and a film adaptation of I am a Hero (Dir: Shinsuke
Sato) is due for release in 2015. How is the zombie different in manga and in film?
Does the fact that manga have weekly or monthly issues allow for a better
introduction for the foreign monster on Japanese soil? Will the adaptation of more
successful manga such as I am a Hero raise the popularity of the zombie in Japanese
cinema? Is an animated zombie more appealing to Japanese audiences than the
traditional live action zombie?
Chapter Three discussed co-productions and exchange within the Asian region, and
this is another avenue down which further scholarship could explore. Within the
region, Japan is the largest producer of zombie films; however, the genre has also
been adapted by Chinese, Hong Kong, Korean and Thai directors. The Hong Kong
and Chinese Jiang Shi films, amalgams of the zombie and vampire with distinctly
Chinese religious components, were especially prolific in the 1980s.What similarities
exist between the zombie films made within the Asian regions? Does the Thai
zombie film diverge from the Western zombie genre in the same manner as the
Japanese zombie film does? Do the Asian zombie films from outside of Japan
incorporate a significant number of Western zombie conventions or do they simply

use the Western genre as a springboard to introduce their own cultural interpretations
of the undead into cinema? Several co-productions of zombie films made in Asia do
exist, namely, the Japanese/South Korean film Blade of the Phantom Master (Dir:
Joji Shimura, 2004) and Face to Face (Dir: Casey Chan) the 2002 co-production
between Japan and Hong Kong, which could warrant further exploration. The
Japanese zombie film proves to be a rich source for further academic study, while
also serving as a point of reference for further investigation of the genre in the
region. As the zombie sub-genre, both in Japan and internationally, continues to
grow and develop, this research may lead to further discussion in the future.
Reference List
Altman, Rick. 1984. “A Semantic/Syntactic Approach to Film Genre” Cinema

Journal 23(3): 6-18. Accessed July 2012
Altman, Rick. 1999. Film/Genre London: British Film Industry
Anderson, Joseph L and Donald Richie. 1982. The Japanese Film: Art and Industry.
New Jersey: Princeton University Press
Badley, Linda. 1995. Film Horror and the Body Fantastic. Westport:
Greenwood Press

Balmain, Collette. 2006. “Inside the Well of Loneliness: Towards a Definition of the
Japanese Horror Film” Journal of Contemporary Japanese Studies. May.
Accessed August 9, 2012.
http://www.japanesestudies.org.uk/discussionpapers/2006/Balmain.html
Balmain, Colette. 2008. Introduction to Japanese Horror Film. Edinburgh:
Edinburgh University Press
Balmain, Colette. 2009. “Oriental Nightmares: The ‘Demonic’ Other in
Contemporary American Adaptations of Japanese Horror Film” In At the
Interface/Probing the Boundaries, Volume 57: Something Wicked This Way
Comes: Essays on Evil and Human Wickedness. Edited by Collette Balmain
& Lois Drawmer. Amsterdam: Editions Rodopi. Accessed June 8, 2015.
http://site.ebrary.com/lib/qut/reader.action?ppg=34&docID=10380355&tm=1
433831903887
Balmain, Colette. 2011. “Flesh and Blood: The Guinea Pig Films” Asian Cinema.
22(1): 58-69. Accessed May 12, 2014.
http://www.ingentaconnect.com.ezp01.library.qut.edu.au/content/intellect/ac/
2011/00000022/00000001/art00006
Barone, Matt. 2013. “Fantastic Fest Review: Japan’s “Miss Zombie” Breathes Fresh
Life into the (Seemingly) Played-Out Living Dead” Complex. September 23.
Accessed October 13, 2014.
http://complex.com/pop-culture/2013/09/miss-zombie
Berra, John. 2010. Directory of World Cinema: Japan. Bristol: Intellect, Ltd.
Bhabha, Homi. 1994. The Location of Culture. London & New York: Routledge
Bishop, Kyle William (2006). "Raising the Dead." Journal of Popular Film &
Television 33(4):196-205.
Bishop, Kyle William. 2009. “Dead Man Still Walking”. Journal of Popular Film
and Television, 37(1): 16-25. Accessed July 2012.
doi: 10.3200/JPFT.37.1.16-25
Bishop, Kyle William. 2010. American Zombie Gothic: The Rise and Fall (and Rise)
of the Walking Dead in Popular Culture. North Carolina: McFarland &
Company, Inc.
Bodart, Joni Richards. 2011. They Suck, They Bite, They Eat, They Kill: The
Psychological Meaning of Supernatural Monsters in Young Adult Fiction.
USA: Scarecrow Press
Boucher, Geoff. “Brad Pitt amid the Panic of ‘World War Z’ and Why Its Zombies
Are More ‘Predatory’ Than Plodding.” Entertainment Weekly. Nov 8, 2012.
Accessed March 2014.
http://insidemovies.ew.com/2012/11/08/brad-pitt-world-war-z-photo/
Boluk, Stephanie and Wylie Lenz. 2010. “Infection, Media, and Capitalism: From
Early Modern Plagues to Postmodern Zombies.” Journal for Early Modern
Cultural Studies, 10 (2): 126-147. Accessed July 2012.
http://muse.jhu.edu.ezp01.library.qut.edu.au/journals/journal_for_early_mode
r n_cultural_studies/v010/10.2.boluk.html
Reference List 177

Boon, Kevin Alexander. 2007. “Ontological Anxiety Made Flesh: The Zombie in
Literature, Film and Culture.” In Monsters and the Monstrous: Myths and
Metaphors of Enduring Evil. Edited by Scott Niall. 33-43. Amsterdam:
Rodopi
Bowen, Glen. A. 2009. “Document Analysis as a Qualitative Research
Method”. Qualitative Research Journal, 9(2): 27-40. Accessed November 26,
2014. Doi: 0.3316/QRJ0902027.
Box Office Mojo. 2014. “The Host: Foreign” Accessed March 15, 2014.
http://boxofficemojo.com/movies/?page=intl&id=host.htm
Box Office Mojo. 2014. “Japan Yearly Box Office–2010.” Accessed March 15,
2014. http://boxofficemojo.com/intl/japan/yearly/?yr=2010&p=.htm
Box Office Mojo. 2014. “Japan Yearly Box Office -2005.” Accessed March 15,
2014.
http://boxofficemojo.com/intl/japan/yearly/?yr=2005&p=.htm
Box Office Mojo. 2014. “Japan Yearly Box Office -2002” Accessed March 15, 2014.
http://boxofficemojo.com/intl/japan/yearly/?yr=2002&p=.htm
Box Office Mojo. 2014. “World War Z” Accessed January 12, 2015.
http://boxofficemojo.com/movies/?id=worldwarz.htm
Brislin, Richard W. 1976. “Comparative Research Methodology: Cross-cultural
Studies” International Journal of Psychology. 11(3):215-229. Accessed
June 2015. DOI: 10.1080.00207597608247359
Brophy, Philip. 1986. “Horrality – The textuality of contemporary horror films.”
Screen. 27 (1): 2-13 Accessed July 2012. doi: 10.1093/screen/27.1.2
Brophy, Philip. 2010. “Monster Island: Godzilla and Japanese sci-fi/horror/fantasy”
Postcolonial Studies. 3(1): 39-42. Accessed September 19, 2012.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/13688790050001336
Brown, Todd. 2011. “Fantastic Fest 2011: Zombie Ass Review” Twitch. September
25. Accessed October 13, 2014. http://twitchfilm.com/2011/09/fantastic-fest-
2011-zombie-ass-review.html
Browning, John Edgar and Caroline Joan Picart, eds. 2009. Draculas, Vampires and
Other Undead Forms: Essays of Gender, Race and Culture.
Maryland, USA: Scarecrow Press
Byrne, James. 2014. “Wigs and Rings: Cross-cultural exchange in the South Korean
and Japanese Horror Film” Journal of Japanese and Korean Cinema.
6(2): 184-201. Accessed January 15, 2015.
http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/17564905.2014.961708?journal
Code=rjkc20
Carrier, J.J. 1995. Occidentalism: Images of the West. London: Oxford University
Press
Carroll, Noel. 1990. The Philosophy of Horror: Paradoxes of the Heart.
New York: Routledge
Carroll, Noel. 2002. “Why Horror?” In Horror, the film reader. Edited by Mark
Jancovich. 33-46. London and New York: Routledge.

Chitwood, Adam. 2014 “Exclusive Resident Evil Updates: Tentatively titled
Resident Evil: The Final Chapter, Planned as the Final Film, and First Draft
is Currently Being Written” Collider. June 16. Accessed December 14, 2014.
http://collider.com/resident-evil-6-title-the-final-chapter/
China Review. 2004. “Transnationalism” in China Review. Spring: NA. Accessed
April 19, 2014.
http://gateway.library.qut.edu.au/login?url+http://search.proquest.com.ezp01.
l ibrary.qut.edu.au/docview/199599311?accountid=13380
Costanzo, William V. 2014. World cinema through global genres. West-Sussex:
Wiley-Blackwell
Crabtree, Benjamin. F and Barbara. DiCicco-Bloom. 2006. “The Qualitative
Research Interview” Medical Education. 40(4): 314-321. Accessed
September 5, 2012. doi: 10.1111/j.1365-2929.2006.02418.x
Crofts, Stephen. 2006. “Reconceptualising National Cinema/s” In
Theorising National Cinema. Edited by Valentina Votali and Paul
Willemen. 44-58. London: British Film Institute
Cua Lim, Bliss. 2007. “Generic Ghosts: Remaking the New ‘Asian Horror Film’” In
Hong Kong Film, Hollywood and the New Global Cinema. Edited by Gina
Marchetti and Tan See Kam. 109-125. London and New York: Routledge.
Davis, Wade. 1985. The Serpent and the Rainbow. New York: Warner Books
Davis, Darrell William, & Yueh-Yu Yeh. 2002. “Japan Hongscreen: Pan-Asian
Cinemas and Flexible Accumulation” Historical Journal of Film, Radio and
Television. 22(1):61-82. Accessed March 2013.
doi:10.1080/01439680220120291
Dendle, Peter. 2001. The Zombie Movie Encylopedia. Jefferson: McFarland
Dendle, Peter. 2007. “The Zombie as Barometer of Cultural Anxiety.”
In Monsters and the Monstrous: Myths and Metaphors of Enduring Evil.
Edited by Scott Niall. 46-57. Amsterdam: Rodopi
Dew, Oliver. 2007. “‘Asia Extreme’: Japanese Cinema and British Hype” New
Cinemas: Journal of Contemporary Film. 5(1):53-73. Accessed May 12,
2013. doi:10.1386/ncin.5.1.53/1
Diverse Japan. 2012. “DVD Review: Helldriver – A J-Horror Film by Yoshihiro
Nishimura” Accessed October 13, 2014.
http://diversejapan.com/2012/02/21/dvd-review-helldriver-a-j-horror-by-
yoshihiro-nishimura/
Dixon, Wheeler W. 2010. A History of Horror. New Jersey: Rutgers University Press
Dolgopolov, Greg. 2014. “High Stakes: The Vampire and the Double in Russian
Cinema” In Transnational Horror Across Visual Media: Fragmented
Bodies. Edited by Dana Och and Kirsten Strayer. 44-66. USA: Taylor and
Francis.
Drezner, Daniel. W. 2010 “Night of the Living Wonks: Toward an International
Relations Theory of Zombies” Foreign Policy, July/August. Accessed
January 15, 2013
Reference List 179

http://www.foreignpolicy.com/articles/2010/06/21/night_of_the_living_wonk
s
European Federation of Funeral Services (EFFS). 2011. “International Cremation
Statistics 2010” Accessed June 19, 2013.
http://www.effs.eu/cms/fileadmin/members_only/documents/International_cr
emation_statistics_2010__source_Pharos_-_7_pages_.pdf
Everman, Welch. 1993. Cult Horror Films. New York: Citadel Press/Carol
Publishing Group
Ezra, Elizabeth & Terry Rowden. 2006. Transnational Cinema: The Film Reader.
New York & London: Routledge
Film Victoria. 2010. Genre and International Box-office, Melbourne: Film Victoria.
Freiberg, Freda. 2000. “Comprehensive connections: the film industry, the theatre
and the state in the early Japanese cinema” Screening the Past. Accessed
August 8, 2012.
http://tlweb.latrobe.edu.au/humanities/screeningthepast/firstrelease/fr1100/ff
fr11c.htm
Freud, Sigmund. 2001. “The Uncanny.” In The Uncanny: Experiments in Cyborg
Culture. Edited by Bruce Grenville. 59-94. Vancouver: Arsenal Pulp Press
Galloway, Patrick. 2006. Asia Shock: Horror and Dark Cinema from Japan, Korea,
Hong Kong and Thailand. Berkeley, CA: Stone Bridge
Garcia, Enrique. 2015. Cuban Cinema After the Cold War: A Critical Analysis of
Selected Films. North Carolina: McFarland and Co, Inc.
Garnett News Service. 2008. “Romero says he never set out to make zombie movie.”
Trib Live, February 15. Accessed July 16, 2011
http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/s_552449.html
Georgiou, Myria & Roger Silverstone. 2007. “Diasporas and Contra-Flows beyond
Nation-Centrism” Media on the Move. Edited by Daya Kishan Thussu, 33-64.
London and New York: Routledge.
Gelder, Ken. 2012. New Vampire Cinema. London: British Film Institute.
Gladieu, Marie-Madeleine. 2014. “Intertextuality” in The Encyclopedia of the Novel.
Edited by Efrain Kristal, 338-341. New York: Wiley.
Gledhill, C. 2000. “Rethinking Genre” In Reinventing Film Studies. Edited by
Christine Gledhill and Linda Williams. 221-243. Great Britain: Arnold
Publishers
Grant, Barry Keith. 1991. “Science-fiction Double Feature: Ideology in the Cult
Film” The Cult Film Experience: Beyond All Reason. Edited by J.P Telotte.
122-137. Austin: University of Texas Press
Gregory, Derek, Ron Johnson & Geraldine Pratt. Eds. 2009. “Orientalism”
In Dictionary of Human Geography. 5th Ed. Accessed June 7, 2015.
http://site.ebrary.com/lib/qut/detail.action?docID=10308208

Grossman, Andrew. 2002. “The Japanese Pink Film: Tandem, The Bedroom and the
Dream of Garuda on DVD” Bright Lights Film Journal. 36: April. Accessed
August 8, 2012.
http://www.brightlightsfilm.com/36/pinkfilms1.php#.VHwzHzHQqSo
Hand, Richard J. 2004. “Proliferating Horrors – Survival Horror and the Resident
Evil Franchise” In Horror Film: Creating and Marketing Fear. Edited by
Steffen Hantke, 117-134. Mississippi: University Press of Mississippi.
Harper, Jim. 2008. Flowers from Hell: The Modern Japanese Horror Film.
Hereford: Noir Publishing.
Hays, Jeffrey. 2009. “Funerals in Japan: Cremations, High Costs, Beliefs About
Death and Buddhist Customs.” Last updated July 2011. Accessed June 19,
2013. http://factsanddetails.com/japan/cat18/sub114/item604.html
Heffernan, Kevin. 2014. “Risen From The Vaults: Recent Horror Film Remakes and
the American Film Industry.” In Merchants of Menace: The Business of
Horror Cinema. Edited by Richard Nowell. 61-73. London: Bloomsbury
Publishing
Higbee, Will and Song Hwee Lim. 2010. “Concepts of Transnational Cinema:
Towards a Critical Transnationalism in Film Studies” Transnational
Cinemas. 1(1): 7-21. Accessed August 18, 2012.
http://www.ingentaconnect.com.ezp01.library.qut.edu.au/content/intellect/tra
c /2010/00000001/00000001/art00002
Higson, Andrew. 2006. “The Limited Imagination of National Cinema”
Transnational Cinema: The Film Reader. Edited by Elizabeth Ezra and Terry
Rowden. 15 -26. New York and London: Routledge
Huat, Chua Beng. 2006. “Conceptualising an East Asian Popular Culture” Inter-Asia
Cultural Studies. 5 (2): 200-221. Accessed August 18 2012.
doi: 10.1080/146937042000236711
Hudson, Dale. 2009. “Modernity as Crisis: Goeng Si and Vampires in Hong Kong
Cinema” In Draculas, Vampires and Other Undead Forms: Essays on
Gender, Race and Culture. Edited by John Edgar Browning and Caroline
Joan Picart. 203-233. Maryland, USA: Scarecrow Press
Hughes, Henry .J. 2000. “Familiarity of the Strange: Japan’s Gothic Tradition”
Criticism. 42(1): 59-89. Accessed September 12, 2013.
http://search.proquest.com.ezp01.library.qut.edu.au/docview/200415177?pq-
origsite=summon
Hunt, Leon & Leung Wing-Fai, eds. 2008. East Asian Cinemas: Exploring
Transnational Connections on Film. New York and United Kingdom:
Palgrave Macmillan
Hunt, Leon, Sharon Lockyer & Milly Williamson. 2014. “Introduction: Sometimes
They Come Back – The Vampire and Zombie on Screen” In Screening the
Undead: Vampires and Zombies in Film and Television. Edited by Leon
Hunt, Sharon Lockyer, Milly Williamson, 1-16. London: I.B. Tauris & Co
Reference List 181

Hunter, Jack. 1998. Eros in Hell: Sex, Blood and Madness in Japanese Cinema.
London: Creation.
Hurtado, J. 2014. “TFW 2014 Review: Zombie TV is a Lo-Fi, Low Brow Rom-
Com-Zomnibus” Twitch. May 3. Accessed October 13, 2014.
http://twitchfilm.com/2014/05/tfw-2014-zombie-tv-is-a-lo-fi-low-brow-rom-
com-zomnibus.html
Hutchings, Peter. 1995. “Genre Theory and Criticism” in Approaches to Popular
Film. Edited by Joanne Hollows and Mark Jancovich. 59-77 Manchester:
Manchester University Press
Hutchinson, Sally .A and Holly Skodal Wilson. 2006.Research Interviews
(Qualitative) New York: Springer Publishing Company
Hutnyk, John. 2006. “Hybridity” Ethnic and Racial Studies 28(1): 79-102.
Accessed October 4, 2012. Doi: 10.1080/0141987042000280021
Hwee Lim, Song. 2011. “Transnational Trajectories in Contemporary East Asian
Cinemas” East Asian Cinemas: Regional flows and Global Transformations.
Edited by Vivian P.Y. Lee. 15-31. United Kingdom and New York:
Palgrave MacMillan
Iwabuchi, Koichi. 2010. “De-Westernization and the Governance of Global Cultural
Connectivity: A Dialogic Approach to East Asian media Cultures”
Postcolonial Studies 13 (4): 403-419. Accessed January 18, 2015.
DOI:10.1080/13688790.2010.518349
Iwabuchi, Koichi, Stephen Muecke and Mandy Thomas. 2004. “Introduction. Siting
Asian Cultural Flows” Rogue Flows: Trans-Asian Cultural Traffic. Edited by
Koichi Iwabuchi, Stephen Muecke and Mandy Thomas.1-10. Hong Kong:
Hong Kong University Press
Iwasaka, Michiko and Barre Toelken. 1994. Ghosts and the Japanese: Cultural
Experience in Japanese Death Legends. Utah: Utah State University Press
Jancovich, Mark. 2002. “General Introduction” Horror, the film reader. Edited by
Mark Jancovich. 1-2. London and New York: Routledge.
Jancovich, Mark. 2007. The Cinema of John Carpenter: The Technique of Terror,
Ghouls, Gimmicks and Gold: Horror films and the American Movie Business
1953-1968, The Pleasures of Horror, The Horror Film, The Horror Film: An
Introduction. Screen 48:2 261-266. Accessed May 14, 2012.
http://screen.oxfordjournals.org/content/48/2/261.full
Jancovich, Mark & Lincoln Geraghty. 2008. “Introduction: Generic Canons” The
Shifting Definitions of Genre: Essays on Labelling Films, Television Shows
and Media. Edited by Mark Jancovich and Lincoln Geraghty. 1-12.
http://QUT.eblib.com.au/patron/FullRecord.aspx?p=1734104
Japan External Trade Organisation (JETRO). 2005. Japanese Film Industry.
Accessed May 2014.
https://www.jetro.go.jp/en/reports/market/pdf/2005_33_r.pdf
Jerslev, Anne. 1994. “The Horror Film, the Body and the Youth Audience.” Young
18 (2): 18-33. Accessed 29 March, 2011. Doi: 10.1177/110330889400200303

Jonas, J.J ND. “The Twelve Archetypes.” Accessed February 2, 2015.
http://www.uiltexas.org/files/capitalconference/Twelve_Character_Archetype
s.pdf
Juno, Andrea. 1986. “Interview: Frank Henenlotter” Incredibly Strange Films.
Edited by: Andrea Juno, V. Vale and Jim Mirton. 8-17. San Francisco:
RE/Search Publications
Kay, Glenn. 2008. Zombie Movies: the ultimate guide. Chicago: Chicago Review
Press
Kim, Dong Hoon. 2009. “Transnationalism and Film Genre in East Asian Cinema:
Editor’s Introduction” Transnationalism and Film Genres in East Asian
Cinema. 29 (2): 5-8. Accessed September 19, 2014.
http://cinema.usc.edu/assets/096/15617.pdf
Klages, Mary. 2012 Key Terms in Literary Theory. New York: Bloomsbury
Accessed: October 15, 2014.
http://qut.eblib.com.au.ezp01.library.qut.edu.au/patron/FullRecord.aspx?p=8
9 4579&echo=1&userid=C01cZHsF2ATuTLEX4TpHZw%3d%3d&tstamp=14
15517341&id=51DC6805C6B66D4B88CEB40F9A150AD2B05F13FA
Knowles, Joe. 2002. “Popcorn and Sake” In These Times, June 7. Accessed June 1,
2015. http://inthesetimes.com/issue/26/16/culture1.shtml
Ko, Mika. 2006. “The Break-up of the National Body: Cosmetical Multiculturalism
and the Films of Miike Takashi” In Theorising National Cinema. Edited by
Valentina Votali and Paul Willemen.129-137. London: British Film Institute
Kozma, Alicia. 2014. “Pinky Violence: Shock, awe and the exploitation of sexual
liberation” Journal of Japanese and Korean Cinema. 3(1): 37-44. Accessed
June 22, 2014. http://dx.doi.org/10.1386/jjkc.3.1.37_1
Kristeva, Julia. 1982. Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection. Translated by Leon
S. Roudiez. New York: Columbia University Press
Kubota, Ryuko. 1999. “Japanese Culture Constructed by Discourses: Implications
for Applied Linguistics and ELT” TESOL Quarterly. (33)1: 9-35. Accessed
January 18, 2015. doi: 10.2307/3588189
Langford, Barry. 2005. Film Genre: Hollywood and Beyond. Edinburgh: Edinburgh
University Press
Lee, Maggie. 2013. “Film Review: ‘Miss Zombie’” Variety. November 5. Accessed
October 13, 2014.
http://variety.com/2013/film/global/miss-zombie-review- 1200798946/
Lee, Nikki. J.Y. 2011. “’Asia’ as Regional Signifier and Transnational Genre
Branding: The Asian Horror Omnibus Movies Three and
Three…Extremes” East Asian Cinemas: Regional flows and Global
Transformations. Edited by Vivian P.Y. Lee.103-117. United Kingdom and
New York: Palgrave MacMillan
Lee, Vivian. P.Y. 2011. “J-Horror and Kimchi Western: Mobile Genres in East
Asian Cinemas” East Asian Cinemas: Regional flows and Global Transformations.
Reference List 183

Edited by Vivian P.Y. Lee.118-141. United Kingdom and New York:
Palgrave MacMillan
Leservot, Typhaine. 2011. “Occidentalism: Rewriting the West in Marjane Satrapi’s
Persépolis” French Forum 36(1): 115-130. Accessed June 7, 2015.
http://gateway.library.qut.edu.au/login?url=http://search.proquest.com.ezp01.
l ibrary.qut.edu.au/docview/878218065?accountid=13380
Lobato, Ramon and Ryan, Mark David. 2011. “Rethinking Genre Studies
Through Distribution Analysis: Issues in International Horror Movie
Circuits” New Review of Film and Television Studies 9(2): 188-203.
Accessed December 10, 2012. doi: 10.1080/17400309.2011.5569
Macfie, Alexander Lyon. 2014. Orientalism. USA: Taylor and Francis. Accessed
June 7, 2015. http://QUT.eblib.com.au/patron/FullRecord.aspx?p=1710575
Maloney, Devon. 2013. “Want to Understand a Generation? Look No Further Than
Its Zombie Movies” Wired. June 28. Accessed February 2, 2015.
http://www.wired.com/2013/06/world-war-z-zombie-messages/all/
Marks, Dave. 2014. “’Helldriver’ Insane Japanese Zombie Splatterfest” Accessed
October 13, 2014. http://zombieresearchsociety.com/archives/24761
Matthijs, Niels. 2011. “Helldriver Review” Twitch. November 15. Accessed October
13, 2014. http://twitchfilm.com/2011/11/helldriver-review.html
Mathijs, Ernest & Xavier Mendik. 2008. “Editorial Introduction: What is Cult
Film?” In The Cult Film Reader. Edited by Ernest Mathijs & Xavier Mendik.
1-11. England & New York: Open University Press
Mathijs, Ernest & Jamie Sexton. 2012. Cult Cinema. Hoboken, USA: John Wiley &
Sons
McRoy, Jay. 2005. “Japanese Horror Cinema” In Traditions of World Cinema.
Edited by Linda Badley, Barton R. Palmer & Steven Jay Schneider. 214-228.
Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Accessed June 8, 2015.
http://site.ebrary.com/lib/qut/detail.action?docID=10435329&lpg=214
McRoy, Jay. 2008. Nightmare Japan: Contemporary Japanese Horror Cinema.
New York & Amsterdam: Rodopi.
Mes, Tom. (2004) “Ryuhei Kitamura” Midnight Eye. May 17. Accessed June 10,
2014. http://www.midnighteye.com/interviews/ryuhei-kitamura/
Minano, Ernesto Zelaya. 2011. “Fantastic Asia Film Festival: Helldriver” Filmink.
November 15. Accessed October 13, 2014.
http://blog.filmink.com.au/filmink- festival-coverage/fantastic-asia-film-
festival-helldriver/
Mogk, Matt. 2011, Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Zombies,
New York: Gallery Books
Moran, Albert & Michael Keane. 2009. “Introduction: The Global Flow of Creative
Ideas” Continuum: Journal of Media and Cultural Studies 23(2):107-114.
Accessed March 2012. doi:10.1080.10304310802710579

Motion Picture Producers Association of Japan (MPPAJ). 2014. Box Office Leaders:
2010. Accessed June 3, 2014. http://eiren.org/boxoffice_e/2010.html
Motion Picture Producers Association of Japan (MPPAJ). 2014. Statistics of Film
Industry in Japan. Accessed September 30, 2015.
http://www.eiren.org/statistics_e/index.html
Napier, Susan J. 1993. “Panic Sites: The Japanese Imagination of Disaster from
Godzilla to Akira” Journal of Japanese Studies. 19(2): 327-351. Accessed
June 15, 2013. http://www.jstor.org/stable/132643
Napier, Susan J. 2006. “When Godzilla Speaks” In In Godzilla’s Footsteps Japanese
Pop Culture Icons on the Global Stage. Edited by William M. Tsutsui and
Michiko Ito. 9-19. New York & United Kingdom: Palgrave MacMillan.
Newman, Kim. 2003. “Preface” In Fear without Frontiers: Horror cinema across
the globe. Edited by Steven Jay Schneider. 7-10 Godalming: FAB Press
Publications
Nishimura, Yoshihiro and Daichi Nagisa. 2010. Helldriver. Directed by Yoshihiro
Nishimura. Produced by Yoshinori Chiba and Hiroyuki Yamada.
Australia: Monster Pictures. DVD.
Nishimura, Yoshihiro. (Director of Helldriver) (2014). Interview with author. March
28
Noriega, Chon. 1987. “Godzilla and the Japanese Nightmare: When “them!” is U.S”
Society for Cinema & Media Studies. 27(1): 63-77. Accessed June 24, 2014.
http://www.jstor.org/stable/1225324
Noboru, Iguchi. (Director of Zombie Ass and Nuigulumar Z). (2014). Interview with
author. March 2
Och, Dana & Kirsten Strayer. 2014. “Introduction” In Transnational Horror Across
Visual Media: Fragmented Bodies. Edited by Dana Och and Kirsten Strayer.
1-13. USA: Taylor and Francis.
O’Regan, Tom. 2008. “Cultural Exchange” In A Companion to Film Theory. Edited
by: Miller T and Robert Stam. 262-294. USA: Wiley
Ostrey, Elaine. 2004. “’Is he still human? Are you?’ Young Adult Science Fiction in
the Posthuman Age” The Lion and the Unicorn. 28(2):222-246. Accessed
October 13, 2014. doi: 10.1353/uni.2004.0024
Ozawa, Eimi. 2006. “Remaking Corporeality and Spatiality: U.S. Adaptations of
Japanese Horror Films” In 49th Parallel: An Interdisciplinary Journal of
North American Studies. 19: 1-7. Accessed June 8, 2015.
http://pdf.thepdfportal.net/PDFFiles/27630.pdf
Paffenroth, Kim. 2006. Gospel of the Living Dead: George Romero’s Visions of Hell
on Earth. Texas: Baylor University Press
Pegg, Simon. 2004. "Afterward" in The Walking Dead: Miles Behind Us. Volume 2.
Written by Robert Kirkman. Image Comics
Pegg, Simon. 2008. “The Dead and the Quick.” The Guardian. November 4.
Accessed March 2012.
Reference List 185

http://www.theguardian.com/media/2008/nov/04/television-simon-pegg-
dead- set
Pence, Katherine and Andrew Zimmerman. 2012. “Transnationalism”
German Studies Review. 35 (3): 495-500. Accessed March 2013.
doi: 10.1353/gsr.2012.0139
Pevere, Geoff. 2013. “Zombies: Why this Pop-Culture Phenomenon Will Not
Die.” The Globe and Mail, January 31. Accessed February 2013.
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/film/zombies-why-this-pop-culture-
phenomenon-will-not-die/article8073271/
Phillips, Alastair & Julian Stringer. 2007. “Introduction” In Japanese Cinema: Texts
and Contexts. Edited by Alastair Phillips & Julian Stringer, 1-24. USA:
Taylor and Francis
Pollack, Sorcha. 2013. “2012 Was the Safest Year Ever to Travel by Plane” Time.
February 28. Accessed January 9, 2015.
http://newsfeed.time.com/2013/02/28/2012-was-the-safest-year-ever-to-
travel-by-plane/
Pulliam, June Michelle. 2014. “Fido” In Encyclopedia of the Zombie: The Walking
Dead in Popular Culture and Myth. Edited by June Michelle Pulliam and
Anthony J. Fonseca. 94-95. USA: Greenwood
Pye, Douglas. 2003. “Genre and Movies” Film Genre Reader III. Edited by Barry
Keith Grant. 203-218. Texas: University of Texas Press.
Rawles, Steve. 2014. “The Ultimate Super-Happy-Zombie-Romance-Murder-
Mystery-Family-Comedy-Karaoke-Disaster-Movie-Part-Animated-Remake-
All-Singing-All-Dancing-Musical-Spectacular-Extravaganza: Miike
Takashi’s The Happiness of the Katakuris as ‘cult’ Hybrid” In Screening the
Undead: Vampires and Zombies in Film and Television. Edited by Leon
Hunt, Sharon Lockyer, Milly Williamson, 208-232. London:
I.B. Tauris & Co
Rego, Cacilda M & Antonio C. La Pastina 2007. “Brazil and the Globalisation of
Telenovelas” Media on the Move. Edited by Daya Kishan Thussu, 89-103.
London and New York: Routledge.
Richards, Andy. 2010. Asian Horror. Harpenden: Kamera
Richardson, Michael. 2010. Otherness in Hollywood Cinema. New York: Continuum
International Publishing Group Ltd
Richie, Donald. 1971. Japanese Cinema: Film Style and National Character. USA:
Doubleday
Richie, Donald. 1998. New Japanese cinema. Post Script - Essays in Film and the
Humanities, 18 (1), 8-10. Accessed June 5, 2015.
http://search.proquest.com/docview/2143127?accountid=13380
Richie, Donald. 2001. A Hundred Years of Japanese Films: A Concise History with a
Selective Guide to Videos and DVDS. London: Kodansha Europe.

Rieber, John. 2012. “Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead! Yes, Japan’s Wacky
Cinema is Calling! What the…?!?!?!” Accessed November 12, 2013.
http://johnrieber.com/2012/11/06/zombie-ass-yes-japans-wacky-cinema-is-
calling-what-the/
Riviello, Alex. 2013. “Fantastic Fest Review: MISS ZOMBIE is a Bleak, Fresh Take
on the Dead” Badass Digest. September 26. Accessed October 13, 2014.
http://badassdigest.com/2013/09/26/fantastic-fest-review-miss-zombie-is-a-
bleak-fresh-take-on-the-undead/
Romero, George A. 2005. Land of the Dead. Directed by George A. Romero.
Produced by Mark Canton, Bernie Goldmann and Peter Grunwald. Universal
Pictures. DVD.
Rosen, P. 2006. “History, Textuality, Nation: Kracauer, Burch and Some Problems
in the Study of National Cinemas” In Theorising National Cinema. Edited by
Valentina Votali and Paul Willemen. 17-28. London: British Film Institute
Ruddell, Caroline. 2012. “Cutting Edge: Violence and Body Horror in Anime.” In
Controversial Images: Media Representations on the Edge. Edited by Feona
Attwood, Vincent Campbell, I.Q. Hunter and Sharon Lockyer. New York &
UK: Palgrave Macmillan
Russell, Catherine. 2010. “Japanese Cinema in the Global System: An Asian
Classical Cinema” The China Review 10(2): 15-36. Accessed June 1, 2015.
http://search.proquest.com/docview/873186802?accountid=13380 Russell,
Jamie. 2006. Book of the Dead: The Complete History of Zombie Cinema.
2nd Ed Surrey, England: FAB Press
Russell, Catherine. 2011. Classical Japanese Cinema Revisited. UK: Bloomsbury
Publishing
Schiling, Mark. “Why Hollywood Movies Are Plummeting At Japan Box Office.”
Variety. October 23, 2013. Accessed February 2014.
http://variety.com/2013/biz/news/japan-hollywood-no-longer-dominates-box-
office-1200752940/
Schreiber, Mark. 2000. “Jidaigeki: TV Heroes Face a New Century” Japan
Quarterly. 47(4): 58-66. Accessed October 23, 2013.
origsite=summon
Schroeder, Alexander. 2011. “Trollhunter, Dead Snow & Scandinavian Folklore:
Emerging From and Receding Into the Landscape”. Accessed September 5,
2012.
http://www.academia.edu/1133028/Trollhunter_Dead_Snow_and_Scandinavi
an_Folklore_Emerging_From_and_Receding_Into_the_Land
Schatz, Thomas. 1981. Hollywood Genres. USA: McGraw-Hill Inc.
Schneider, Steven. 2000. “Monsters as (uncanny) metaphors: Freud, Lakoff and the
representation of monstrosity in cinematic horror.” The Horror Film Reader.
Edited by James Ursini and Alain Silver. 167-191. New York: Proscenium
Publishers Inc.
Reference List 187

Schneider, Steven Jay, 2003. Fear without Frontiers: Horror Cinema Across the
Globe. Edited by Steven Jay Schneider. England: FAB Press Publications.
Schneider Steven Jay and Tony Williams, eds. 2005. Horror International.
Detroit: Wayne State University Press
Schneider Steven Jay and Tony Williams. 2005. “Introduction” In Horror
International. Edited by Steven Jay Schneider and Tony Williams. 1-12.
Detroit: Wayne State University Press
Sconce, Jeffrey. 2009. “‘Trashing’ the Academy: Taste, Excess and an Emerging
Politics of Cinematic Style” In Horror Zone: The Cultural Experience of
Contemporary Horror Cinema. Edited by Ian Conrich. 103-122. London: I.B.
Tauris
Shaviro, Steven. 1993. The Cinematic Body. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota
Press
Shildrick, Magrit. 2002. Embodying the Monster: Encounters with the Vulnerable
Self. London: SAGE Publications Inc.
Shin, Chi-Yun. 2008. “Art of Branding: Tartan “Asia Extreme” Films” Jump Cut: A
Review of Contemporary Media Jump Cut. 50: Spring. Accessed November 23,
2013. http://ejumpcut.org/archive/jc50.2008/TartanDist/text.html
Shim, Doobo. 2005. “Hybridity and the rise of Korean Popular Culture in Asia”
Media, Culture and Society (28):1. 25-44. Accessed November 19,
2012. Doi:10.1177/0163443706059278
Singh, Greg. 2014. Film After Jung: Post-Jungian approaches to Film Theory.
USA: Taylor and Francis
Skal, David J. 1993. The Monster Show: A Cultural History of Horror. New York:
W.W. Norton & Company Inc.
Smith, Richard Harland. 2009. “The Battle Inside: Infection and the Modern Horror
Film.” Cineaste. 35 (1): 42-45. Accessed May 8, 2011.
http://trove.nla.gov.au/work/47555634?q&versionId=60466536
Sobczuk, Jessa. 2012. “Cinemacabre Review: Helldriver” Rue Morgue. February 3.
Accessed October 13, 2014.
http://www.rue-morgue.com/2012/02/cinemacabre-review-helldriver/
Spitznagel, Eric. 2010. “George A. Romero: Who Says Zombies Eat Brains?”
Vanity Fair, May 27. Accessed September 21, 2013.
http://www.vanityfair.com/online/oscars/2010/05/george-romero
St. John, W. 2006. “Market for Zombies? It’s Undead (Aaahhh!)” New York Times,
March 26. Accessed September 21, 2013. 1-2
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/03/26/fashion/sundaystyles/26ZOMBIES.html?
_r=2&
Standish, Isolde. 2005. A New History of Japanese Cinema: A Century of Narrative
Film. New York: Continuum.
Stein, Wayne. 2009. “Enter the Dracula: The Silent Screams and Cultural Crossroads
of Japanese and Hong Kong Cinema” Draculas, Vampires, and Other

Undead Forms. Edited by John Edgar Browning, Caroline Joan Picart.
235 – 260. Maryland: Scarecrow Press
Sumpter, Sara L. 2006. “From Scrolls to Prints to Moving Pictures: Iconographic
Ghost Imagery from Pre-Modern Japan to the Contemporary Horror Film”
In Explorations: The Undergraduate Research Journal. 9: 5-24. Accessed
March 2013. http://www.ue.ucdavis.edu/explorations/2006/sumpter.pdf
Sushi Typhoon. 2012. “About Sushi Typhoon.” Accessed May 5, 2014.
http://www.sushi-typhoon.com/about-sushi-typhoon
Teo, Stephen. 2013. The Asian Cinema Experience: Styles, Spaces, Theory. London
and New York: Routledge
Thompson, Hamish. 2006. “’She’s Not Your Mother Anymore, She’s a Zombie!’
Zombies, Value and Personal Identity.” In The Undead and Philosophy:
Chicken Soup for the Soulless. Edited by Richard Greene and K. Silem
Mohammad, 27-37. Illinois: Carus Publishing Company
Thussu, Daya Kishan. 2007. “Mapping Global Media Flow and Contra Flow” Media
on the Move. Edited by Daya Kishan Thussu, 10-29. London and New York:
Routledge.
Tompkins, Joe. 2014. “The Cultural Politics of Horror Film Criticism” The
International Journal of Media and Culture. 12(1): 32 – 47. Accessed
January 2015. DOI: 10.1080/15405702.2013.869335
Tudor, Andrew. 1995. “Unruly Bodies, Unquiet Minds.” Body and Society 25
(1): 25-41. Accessed 8 May 2011. doi: 10.1177/1357034X95001001003
Twitchell, James B. 1985. Dreadful Pleasures: An anatomy of Modern Horror. New
York: Oxford University Press
Twohy, Margaret. 2008. “From Voodoo to Viruses: The Evolution of the Zombie in
Twentieth Century Popular Culture.” Master’s Diss. Trinity College Dublin.
UniJapan. 2009. The Guide to Japanese Film Industry and Co-Production.
Accessed May 2014. unijapan.org/project/information/co-
production_guide.pdf
Ursini, James and Alain Silver. 2000. The Horror Film Reader. New York:
Limelight Editions.
Vale V. and Andrea Juno. 1986. “Introduction” Incredibly Strange Films. Edited by
V. Vale, Andrea Juno and Jim Morton. 4-6. San Francisco: RE/Search
Publications
Van Der Heide, Bill. 1995. “Boundary Riding: Cross-Cultural Analysis, National
Cinema and Genre”. Social Semiotics. 5(2): 213-237. Accessed August 9,
2012.
Vertovec, Steven. 2009. Transnationalism. USA: Taylor and Francis.
Vuckovic, Jovanka. 2011. Zombies! An Illustrated History of the Dead.
East Sussex: Ilex Press
Wada-Marciano, Mitsuyu. 2007. “J-Horror: New Media’s Impact on Contemporary
Japanese Horror Cinema” Canadian Journal of Film Studies. 16(2): 23-48
Accessed: June 28, 2012.
Reference List 189

origsite=summon
Wada-Marciano, Mitsuyu. 2009. “Contemporary Japanese Cinema in Transition:
Introduction” In Canadian Journal of Film Studies. 18(1):2-5 Accessed June
28, 2012.
origsite=summon
Wardrope, Todd. N.D. “An Exquisite Nightmare: New Asian Horror Sprays the
Screen.” Green Cine.
http://www.greencine.com/static/primers/asianhorror2.jsp
Wee, Valerie. 2013. Japanese Horror Films and their American Remakes.
USA: Taylor and Francis. Accessed June 8, 2015.
http://QUT.eblib.com.au/patron/FullRecord.aspx?p=1498721
Wetmore, Kevin J. 2011. Back from the Dead: Remakes of the Romero zombie films
as markers of their times. North Carolina: McFarland & Company Inc.
Weisser, Thomas & Yuko Mihara Weisser. 2003. Japanese Cinema: The Essential
Handbook. 5th ed. Pennsylvania: Vital Books Inc.
Wing-Fai, Leung. 2012. “Importing Genre, Exporting Cult: The Japanese Zom-Com”
Asian Cinema 22 (1): 110-121. Accessed July 24, 2012.
http://www.intellectbooks.co.uk/journals/view-Article,id=12071/
Woerner, Meredith. 2012 “Paul W.S. Anderson’s Secret for Making an All-Female
Action Movie Without Going Sucker Punch.” Accessed February 19, 2014.
http://io9.com/5895334/paul-ws-andersons-secret-for-making-an-all-female-
action-movie-without-going-sucker-punch
Wood, Robin. 1979. “Apocalypse Now: Notes on the Living Dead.” In American
Nightmare: Essays on the Horror Film. Edited by Andrew Britton, Richard
Lippe, Tony Williams and Robin Wood. 91-97. Toronto: Festival of Festivals
Wood, Robin. 2004. “What Lies Beneath?” In Horror Film and Psychoanalysis:
Freud’s Worst Nightmare. Edited by S. J. Schneider. XIII-XVIII. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Woodham, Nicola. 2014. “Nollywood, Our Nollywood: Resisting the Vampire” In
Screening the Undead: Vampires and Zombies in Film and Television.
Edited by Leon Hunt, Sharon Lockyer, Milly Williamson, 331-360.
London: I.B. Tauris & Co
Woodruff, teeuwynn. 2014. “Jungian Character Archetypes in The Walking Dead”.
Accessed February 2, 2015.
http://teeuwynnwoodruff.hubpages.com/hub/Jungian-Character-Archetypes-
in-The-Walking-Dead
Yoshimoto, Mitsuhiro. 2006. “National, International/Transnational: The Concept of
Trans- Asian Cinema and the Cultural Politics of Film Criticism” In
Theorising National Cinema. Edited by Valentina Votali and Paul
Willemen.254-261. London: British Film Institute

Yin, Robert K. 2003. Case Study Research: Designs and Methods. London: Sage
Publications
Yoshikazu, Ito. (Crew for Zom Video) (2014). Interview with author. July 27
Zombie Movie Database. 2002. Accessed June 2012. http://www.zmdb.org/
Zombies World. 2012. “Interview of Isaac Marion about Warm Bodies.” Accessed
February 2014. http://www.zombiesworld.com/interview-of-isaac-marion-
about-warm-bodies/
Reference List 191

Appendices
Appendix A
Japanese Zombie Films
This list was collated by searching and comparing results from the zmdb.org,
imdb.com and jfdb.jp/en/. This list is not a definitive list of all Japanese zombie
films, nor does it include short films, television series or television episodes
featuring zombies.
2014
Half Zombie: Dead or Alive - Dir: Saisuke Yamanouchi
Undead Cemetery - Dir: Daisuke Yamanouchi
Eiga Z Kanzen Ban - Dir: Norio Tsurta
Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead 5 – Dir: Naoyuki Tomomatsu
Rape Zombie: Lust of the Dead 4 – Dir: Naoyuki Tomomatsu and Aya Kisaki
Fujimi-Hime Aru Zombie Shojo No Sainan – Dir: Kousuka Hishinuma
ABCs of Death 2 – Dir: Robert Boocheck and Hajime Ohata
Rain for the Dead – Dir: Bishop Koyama
2013
Zombie Bride – Dir: Daisuke Yamanouchi
Zombie Child – Dir: Masaru Yasokawa
Matagi War Z – Dir: Morishima Daisuke
Big Bug Insult – Harline Rescue Unit Bird Angel – Dir: Tohru Sakata
Zombie TV – Dir: Yoshihiro Nishimura and Maelie Makuno
Miss Zombie – Dir: Sabu
Diploma – Dir: Jun Sekiya
Gothic Lolita Battle Bear (Nuigulumar Z) – Dir: Noboru Iguchi
2012
Life is Dead (Raifu iz Deddo) – Dir: Kôsuke Hishinuma Rape
Zombie: Lust of the Dead – Dir: Naoyuki Tomomatsu Kimi
Wa Zombie Ni Koishieru – Naoyuki Tomomatsu Resident
Evil: Damnation – Dir: Makoto Kamiya
Killer Motel – Dir: Kazuya Ogawa
After School Midnighters – Dir: Hitoshi Takekiyo
Butai Stacy’s – Dir: Morning Musume
Legend of Sengoku Girls (Sengoku Shojo Den Yokai Ninja Shinobi) – Dir:
Hiroyuki Kawasaki
Rabbit Horror – Dir: Takashi Shimizu
Princess Sakura: Forbidden Pleasures – Dir: Hajime Hashimoto
Undertaker (Sôginin – andâteikâ) – Dir: Naoyoshi Kawamatsu
2011

Girls, Gangsters and Zombies – Dir: Masahiro Asao
Sun of the Dead – Dir: Ami Shonosuke
Deadball – Dir: Yudai Yamaguchi
Zombie Girl (Tomie, Tomie: Unlimited) – Dir: Noboru Iguchi
Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead – Dir: Noboru Iguchi
Rage of the Undead (Zomvideo/Zonbideo) – Dir: Kenji Murakami
Schoolgirl Apocalypse – Dir: John Cairns
Mighty Honey – Dir: Kanzo Matsuura
Woodsman and the Rain – Dir: Shuchi Okita
2010
Joshikosei Zombie – Dir: Minami Masashi
Madam Chanbara – Dir: Schwarzen 3rd
Mask the Scarlet – Tohru Sakata
Dead Rising (Shibyo Osen) – Dir: Keiji Inafune
Vampire Girl vs. Frankenstein Girl – Dir: Yoshihiro Nishimura and Naoyuki
Tomomatsu
Big Tits Zombie (Konyu Dragon) – Dir: Takao Nakano
Akiba Zombie – Dir: Daisuke Mirishima
Alien vs. Ninja – Dir: Seiji Chiba
Scream Girls 2 (Shin Hikiko-San) – Dir: Hisaaki Nagaoka
Helldriver (Nihon Bundan: Heru Doraiba) – Dir: Yoshihiro Nishimura
Escape from Vampire Island (Higanjima) – Dir: Kim Tae-Kyun
Heroine Tentacle Insult Vol. 5 – Dir: Roma Himekawa
Oedo Living Dead - No identifiable director
Shin Kaidan HIssatsu Shojo Ken Kyuketsu Zombie To Yokai Kunoichi Dai Senso –
Dir: Seiji Yamada
2009
Onechanbara the Movie: Vortex – Dir: shouji Atsushi
Yoroi Samurai Zombie – Dir: Tak Sakaguchi
Death Chronicles Vol. 1 and 2 – Dir: Tohru Kikkawa
Kaiji Denshou Onigara-Mura the Oni-Gara – Dir: Hitoshi Matsumura
A Wife and the Child are Corrupt (Fujoshi) – Susumu Nakaya
Twilight File VI: Fuyu No Kaidan – Boku to Watashi to Oba-Chan No Monogatari –
Dir: Kooichi Ueno
Bloody Muscle Build to Hell (Jogoku No Chimidoro Muscle Builder) – Dir: Shinichi
Fukazawa
2008
Resident Evil: Degeneration – Dir: Makoto Kamiya
Zombie Killer, Chanbara Beauty (Onechanbara: The Movie) – Dir: Yôhei Fukuda
High School Girl Rika: Zombie Hunter (Saikyo Heiki Joshikosei: Rika-Zonbi Hanta
vs. Saikyo Zonbi Gurorian) – Dir: Ken’ichi Fujiwara
Yurei vs. Uchujin Gren – Dir: Takashi Shimizu
Seifuku Survi-Girl II – Dir: Kaneko Taishi
Seifuku Survi-Girl I – Dir: Kaneko Taishi
Zombie Dead (Zonbi-Dead) – Dir: Kanzo Matsuura
Oppai Chanbara – Dir: Akira Hirose
Appendicies 193
2007
Zombie Mura Owarinaki Tobo – Dir: Takaaki Ezura
Ghost Zombie (Yurei Zombie) – Dir: Koji Shiraishi
Girls Rebel Force of Competitive Swimmers (Attack Girls’Swim Team Versus the
Undead, Inglorious Zombie Hunters) – Dir: Koji Kawano
Real Action Play on the Road!!! Kakutou Delivery Service and the World End – no
identifiable director
I was a Teenage Ninja – Dir: Yoshikazu Kato
2006
Zombie Jieitai – Dir: Naoyuki Tomomatsu
Reincarnation (Rinne) – Dir: Takashi Shimizu
Tokyo of the Dead (Tokyo of the Dead Mikka) – Dir: Yamamoto Musashi
Zombie of the Dead 3: Evolution King – Dir: Yoshiyuki Okazaki
Death Trance – Dir: Yuri Shimomura
Ojisan Tengoku – Dir: Shinji Imaoka
Meatball Machine – Dir: Yudai Yamaguchi and Junichi Yamamoto
Kisarazu Cat’s Eye 2 (Kisarazu Cat’s Eye: Sayonara Game) – Dir: Fuminori Kaneko
Forbidden Siren – Dir: Yukihiko Tsutumi
2005
Devilman – Dir: Hirojuki Nasu
Yaji and Kita: Midnight Pilgrims – Dir: Kankuro Kudo
One Missed Call 2 – Dir: Renpei Tsukamoto
Oh! My Zombie Mermaid – Dir: Naoki Kudo
Tokyo Zombie (Tokyo Zonbi) – Dir: Sakichi Satô
Cho Kowai Hanashi the Movie: Yami No Eigasai – Dir: Various
Loft – Dir: Kiyoshi Kurosawa
Kyofu!! Kiseichukan No Sanshimai – Dir: Takeshi Miyasaka
Shizue Uwasarei – Dir: Ryo Moroe
Gurozuka – Dir: Yoichi Nishiyama
Haruki Web Cinema Vol. 1 – Dir: Yoshinori Matsunaga
Cho Kowai Hanashi: The Movie – Dir: Miho Yabe and Kanji Tsuda
Noroi: The Curse – Dir: Koji Shiraishi
2004
Zombie-ya Reiko Vol. 3: Saru No Ketsuzou – Dir: Hiroshi Inaba
Zombie-ya Reiko Vol. 2 –Dir: Hiroshi Inaba
Zombie-ya Reiko Vol. 1- Dir: Hiroshi Inaba
Infection – Dir: Masayuki Ochiai
Izo – Dir: Takashi Miike
Survive Style 5+ – Dir: Gen Sekiguchi
The Big Slaughter Club Forever (Shudai Satsujin Club: Saigo No Satsuriku) – Dir:
Hitoshi Ishikawa
The Big Slaughter Club: Growing (Shuudan Satsujin Kurabu 3) – Dir: Youhei Tani
Glamorous Life of Sachiko Hanai – Dir: Mitsuru Meike
Blade of the Phantom Master – Dir: Joji Shimura
Tsukineneko Ni Mitsu No Tama – Dir: Hiroyuki Minato
Sexual Parasite (Sexual Parasite: Killer Pussy) – Dir: Takao Nakano

2003
Battlefield Baseball – Dir: Yudai Yamaguchi
The Big Slaughter Club Returns – Dir: Hitoshi Ishikawa
The Big Slaughter Club – Dir: Hitoshi Ishikawa
Samurai Resurrection (Makai Tenshu) – Dir: Hideyuki Hirayama
Youki Kaidan Zenshuu Extra: Onna Keiji to Ratai Kaibouki – Dir: Seiji Yamada
Tamala 2010: A Punk Cat in Space – Dir: Tol
Ninja Vixens: Demonic Sacrifices 0 – Dir: Shuichi Kokumai
2002
Dragon Head – Dir: George Iida
Yomigaeri: Resurrection – Dir: Akihiko Shiota
Face to Face – Dir: Casey Chan
2001
Zombie Gokudo (Itsuroku Gaddan Zombi Gokudo) – Dir: Hirohisa Sasaki
Kakashi – Dir: Norio Tsuruta
Happiness of the Katakuris – Dir: Takashi Miike
Reborn from Hell II: Jubei’s Revenge (Makai Tensho: Mado-hen) – Dir: Kazumasa
Shirai
Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies – Dir: Naoyuki Tomomatsu
Mystery of the Necronomicon – Dir: Hideo Takayama and Yoshitaka Makino
Tomie Rebirth – Dir: Takashi Shimizu
Vermillion Pleasure Night: The Color of Life – Dir: Yoshimasa Ishibashi
Bitch – No identifiable director
2000
Versus – Dir: Ryuhei Kitamura
Sakuya: Slayer of Demons (Sakua: Yokaiden) – Dir: Tomoo Haraguchi
Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust – Dir: Yoshiaki Kawajiri and Tai Kit Mak
Snake Woman (Zombie Snake, Hebi-Onna) – Dir: Shimizu Atsushi
Crazy Eyes – No identifiable director Demon Warrior Koji – Dir:
Yasunori Urata
The Day Shuffle!! (Shiryou No Mure) – Dir: Yoshiyuki Okamoto
Crazy Lips – Dir: Hirohisa Sasaki
Appendicies 195
Appendices
Appendix B
Interview Questions
Interview Questions
1. What is the cultural status of the zombie film within the Japanese horror
genre?
2. How popular are Western zombie films and products (TV shows, books,
zombie walks etc.) in Japan?
3. Do audiences have expectations of what the zombie films should deliver,

and what would these expectations be?
4. Are there any genre rules when making a zombie film in Japan?
‐What are the key generic elements?
5. What influence do western/American zombie films have on the creation of

Zombie films?
6. What motivates filmmakers in Japan to make zombie films? For instance, are
economics and fandom concepts that impact decisions?
7. What are the benefits for filmmakers in producing zombie or horror films in
Japan?
8. What is the funding process for Japanese films?
9. Are investors more or less likely to invest in a film if it has zombies in it?
Appendicies 197
10. Are zombie films taken seriously, or are they primarily seen as fun/comedy
films?
11. Who is the intended audience for the zombie films? Are they cult
or mainstream?
12. How are Japanese zombie films produced and distributed?
13. What are the markets for Japanese zombie films? Are the films released
in cinema, or are they direct‐to‐DVD or online only? And how does this
influence the nature of the films?
14. How important are the regional markets in the Japanese zombie film? Which
are the largest regional markets for Japanese zombie and/or horror films?
15. Of domestic, regional or international markets, which are most important
for the Japanese zombie film?

Kayleigh Murphy Thesis

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Kayleigh Murphy Thesis

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Kayleigh Murphy Thesis

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

What is the thesis of the document analyzing?

What is the thesis of the document analyzing?

How does the document situate the Japanese zombie film genre?

How does the document situate the Japanese zombie film genre?

(UN)DEAD JAPAN: A GENRE ANALYSIS

OF THE JAPANESE ZOMBIE FILM

Submitted in fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of

Creative Industries Faculty

This study is an in-depth examination of the stylistic and generic characteristics of

4 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

6 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

8 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

Figure 1. Evolution of zombies in The Walking Dead……………..……………45

Figure 2. Taxonomy of the dead……………………………………………..55

Figure 3. Prohibited themes, published by the Civil Information and Education

Figure 4. Zombies in Zombie Ass: The Toilet of the Dead………....……….138

Table 1: Interviews and correspondence with filmmakers and academics………….28

10 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

Signature: QUT Verified Signature

Date: October 2015

12 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

14 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

While there are a growing number of monograph-length studies on Japanese horror

Research questions and research focus

The following primary research questions guide this study:

16 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

The international turn in horror movie scholarship

18 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

Nevertheless, contemporary horror movie scholarship is becoming more concerned with

20 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

an interpenetration between Hollywood and global aesthetics, nor even how

Cult cinema definitions

Often, through bad direction, misdirection, inept direction, a film starts

22 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

Often [low-budget] films are eccentric – even extreme – presentations by

While this study investigates an underdeveloped area of academic enquiry it also

Primary data and research methods

Genre analysis and genre movie studies

24 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

“genre as blueprint, as a formula that precedes, programmes and

Genre theory is a subject prone to personal interpretation. Jancovich and Geraghty

26 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

Table 1: Interviews and correspondence with filmmakers

28 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

requires a two-pronged approach; first, looking distinctly at an individual culture (the

30 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

The language barrier

Selecting films for analysis

32 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

Table 2: Primary data and alignment of research questions and research

34 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

The horror genre and monsters

36 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

The History and Characteristics of the Western Zombie Movie 37

38 (Un)dead Japan: A Genre Analysis of the Japanese Zombie Film

As previously discussed, though the zombie’s folkloric roots originate in Haiti,

Basically, anything that evoked de-individualization on a mass or epidemic

The History and Characteristics of the Western Zombie Movie 39

Defining the zombie