Audition (1999) Review
There is no one quite like Takashi Miike. His films drag you kicking and screaming into the bowels of the subconscious, wading through the darkest recesses of the mind to a place where sanity fears to tread. Unsettlingly unique, with a twisted sense of humour that often feels like it's laughing in your face, Miike’s vision is as disturbing as it is unforgettable. Over the years, his films- from ‘Visitor Q’ and ‘Gozu’ to ‘As the Gods Will’- have defied genre conventions, electrifying audiences with their marvellous madness.
Miike’s penchant for defying expectation reaches its peak with ‘Audition,’ a film that lulls you into a false sense of comfort before pulling the rug out from under you. What begins as a seemingly innocent tale of romance and second chances morphs into a terrifying exploration of obsession, manipulation and the dark side of human desire. Here Miike’s mastery of suspense and psychological horror truly comes to the fore, leaving one both mesmerized and petrified.
Based on a Ryû Murakami novel, and with a screenplay by Daisuke Tengan, it follows Shigeharu Aoyama, a widower whose friend suggests a peculiar way to help him find a new wife: by holding auditions for a role in a fictional television series. The women who try out are unaware of the true purpose behind the casting call. Shigeharu eventually chooses the soft-spoken Asami Yamazaki, setting in motion a twisted game of deception and violence that will inevitably lead to disaster.
At its core, the film is a masterclass on how to slowly unravel a narrative, building tension and suspense without relying on conventional horror tropes. Miike takes his time, establishing Shigeharu’s loneliness and sincere longing for companionship. The film lures the audience into a false sense of security, mirroring Shigeharu’s delusions around his search for love. While hiding the darker reality beneath the surface as the story progresses, the sense of dread becomes palpable, shifting from subtle unease to outright terror.
‘Audition’ also explores the complex themes of desire, control and the power dynamics at play in relationships, especially those rooted in objectification and manipulation. Shigeharu's superficial approach to finding a partner- viewing his auditionee wives as interchangeable- serves as a critique of the commodification of intimacy. Asami, on the other hand, embodies a darker form of agency, using her past trauma and quiet demeanour to manipulate, ultimately controlling the narrative. Their twisted dance of dominance and submission drives the film towards its nightmarish climax.
On a deeper level, the film also functions as a profound meditation on the complex psychological dynamics between its central characters. Shigeharu, driven by grief and loneliness, initially approaches his search for a wife with the same detached objectivity as a casting director. His blind desire for companionship renders him complicit in the very horrors he unknowingly sets in motion.
Asami, in contrast, exemplifies a darker form of agency. Having internalized her trauma, she uses it as a means of control. Her silence and reserve are deceptive, masking a raging inner world. She is all too ready to manipulate Shigeharu, ultimately shaping their shared fate. The film suggests that the consequences of human desire are not just about the object of that desire but the desperate lengths one may go to, to satisfy it.
Miike also taps into the cultural undercurrent of late 1990’s Japan, where traditional views on marriage and the commodification of women were being questioned in the face of modernization. This social context adds an extra layer of critique, positioning Shigeharu’s objectification of the women he auditions as a reflection of broader societal attitudes toward relationships, intimacy and gender roles. The film’s eerie depiction of marriage as a transaction- rather than a partnership based on mutual respect- resonates with these cultural critiques, making ‘Audition’ a chilling commentary on the commodification of love itself.
The film’s atmosphere is one of its most potent weapons. Miike expertly shifts from serene, almost ordinary moments to escalating chaos, often without warning. The tension between the mundanity of Shigeharu’s life- his attempts to fill the void left by his wife and the horrific events brewing beneath the surface- keeps the audience constantly on edge. The film’s deliberate pace allows dread to build as we slowly uncover the dark realities of both Shigeharu’s search for companionship and Asami’s tortured past. This slow burn makes the eventual explosion of violence all the more shocking and impactful.
Alongside cinematographer Hideo Yamamoto, Miike's use of sound and visual style is crucial in creating the film’s suffocating atmosphere. The muted colours and empty spaces of the early scenes are contrasted by the sudden, jarring violence that erupts later, making each disturbing moment all the more visceral. Moreover, Kôji Endô’s haunting, unsettling score and the quiet, eerie silences contribute to a pervasive feeling of unease. Miike's decision to focus on small, often uncomfortable details- a close-up of a hand, a long, lingering shot of a man in a wheelchair- forces one to become complicit in the horror, deepening the nightmare.
Ryo Ishibashi stars as Shigeharu, opposite Eihi Shiina’s Asami. Ishibashi gives a nuanced performance, subtly embodying the character's growing desperation and vulnerability. His portrayal of a man who, while seeking genuine companionship, remains oblivious to the dark forces at play, draws one in, making his eventual fate all the more chilling. Ishibashi’s ability to shift from a seemingly benign, fatherly figure to a man trapped in his own naïve desires heightens the emotional stakes of the film.
Shiina, meanwhile, delivers a hauntingly quiet, yet intensely unsettling performance. With minimal dialogue, she conveys a wealth of emotion through her eyes and body language, imbuing Asami with an air of mystery and quiet menace. Her transformation from a seemingly delicate, almost fragile woman to a vengeful force of nature is chilling. Shiina's performance is key to the film's eerie atmosphere, capturing the tension simmering beneath the surface until it erupts into full-blown terror. In addition, the supporting cast do routinely strong work, notably Jun Kunimura and Renji Ishibashi as Shigeharu’s friend and a wheel-chair bound creep, respectfully.
Comparing it to other psychological thrillers of its time, such as David Fincher’s ‘Seven’, Miike’s film stands out for its unflinching commitment to horror transcending mere shock value. Unlike other films relying on conventional narrative arcs, ‘Audition’ takes its time unravelling the tension, making its violent payoff all the more harrowing. It remains one of the most unique, unnerving psychological thrillers of its era, cementing Miike's legacy as a director who not only defies genre conventions but also reshapes them, with a pickaxe to the head.
In conclusion, Takashi Miike’s ‘Audition’ is a masterpiece of the macabre. Well-written and strikingly shot, it draws you into a nightmare where escape seems impossible. Hard to forget, the performances- especially Eihi Shiina’s as Asami- are remarkable. Miike doesn’t just push the boundaries of horror; he shatters them, leaving behind a film that is as unforgettable as it is unsettling. 'Audition’ stands as a testament to his unrelenting creativity, proving that horror can be both terrifying and thought-provoking- an experience that lingers long after the credits roll.