User reviews

Over a time span of some 35 years, I saw Kwaidan twice on the large screen. I liked it the very first time, and it got better when I saw it the second time.

From the very opening when credits were introduced, color ink drops penetrating clear water generated an extremely soothing visual effect. The execution was low-tech, but it goes to show the power of human creativity before the age of fast computer chips. This opening also sets the tone of what you are about to get into - a film of great visual beauty, a film that requires a relaxed and unrushed mental frame of mind to appreciate.

It consists of four stories, all about ghosts, spirits and a blood-sucking woman in white. Some stories are better than the others, and my favourite is 'Hoichi the Earless', which also has the longest running time. It is about escapism, tales of morals, and cinema at its best.

Four old ghost stories, updated in the late 19th Century by the Irish-Greek-America Lafcadio Hearne, then reclaimed by Kobayashi Masaki in the 1960's. This really isn't your regular horror movie to put it mildly - All four stories are told in a highly theatrical manner with deliberately stylized studios and acting. Some of the sets are very beautiful, a quite unique cinema experience.

It is, however, very uneven. The first story, 'the Woman of the Black Hair' is lovely in parts, but the ending disappoints (its different from the Lafcadio Hearne original). The second one, the 'Woman of the Snow' is genuinely very creepy and shocking. The third story, 'Hoichi the Earless' is by far the most impressive, with memorable visuals and music. The last story, 'In a Cup of Tea' is a more conventional 'tales of the unexpected' type story and is a little overlong. Its really a bit of a shaggy dog story, not worthy of the others.

There is no doubt that its a very beautiful movie in parts - some sections are genuinely memorable and will likely stick in your mind for a lot longer than the usual ghost stories. I don't think its as good a movie as some other Japanese horror movies of the period such as Onibaba or Woman of the Dunes (both made two years before this). However, it is fascinating in the little insights it gives to the pleasures of traditional Japanese theater.

A man returns to his abandoned wife seeking forgiveness and pays for his cruelty. A snow demon and a young man make a pact. A blind priest is summoned by the ghosts of dead warriors to recite the heroic battle that cost them their lives. A samurai is taunted by ghosts in his cup of tea...

Kobayashi's output has been small compared to his contemporaries' (Kurosawa, Ozu...) yet each of his films is an assault on the senses and a visual gem. After unleashing some of Japan's cinematic legends in two of the greatest samurai films ever made (Samurai Rebellion with Toshiro Mifune and the sublime Harakiri with Tatsuya Nakadai), the master moved on to the supernatural with this collection of ghost stories. Filming for the first time in color, Kobayashi wields it like few others before or since, blending spellbinding compositions together and giving us a film of a visual beauty that rivals the best of Kurosawa, Kubrick or Tarkovsky. The eerie feeling of dread is matched only by the film's sheer beauty and power, like watching a moving painting or experiencing a trance.

Kwaidan is not entertaining: it is captivating, bewitching, unique even by it's author's standards. For movie-goers, this is a unique experience. For amateurs of art, it is a feast.

Unmissable!

There's a good bit of discussion of this film as "horror"; may I suggest that it's horrific in the sense of the ancient Greek tragedies. There's no attempt to coerce your Hollywood-abused adrenals into delivering just one more squirt by means of some in-your-face special effect. In fact, for each of these slowly developed stories, once you've understood the premise, the story will unfold pretty much as you've guessed it must, inexorably, relentlessly. The ghosts aren't there to "spook" us, they're to show us our common human spiritual and emotional failings. The horror of a ghost wife, for instance, isn't that her chains drag noisily across the the hardwood parquet floor, but that we've created her by our insensitivity, our misplaced values, or our betrayals.

The visual style is stupendous! The action takes place in a disappeared, iconic world of classical medieval Japan, perfect, and admitting no trace of the reality of modern times. Overlaid is a European Expressionist color sensibility, with emotionally charged color displacements of sky and skin, as if Hokusai and Ernst Ludwig Kirchner had been working cooperatively on the sets and lighting.

This is a wonderful movie. Please ignore attempts to fit it into some box, some genre. Rather look at it as a mature work of art, which happens to choose old Japanese ghost stories as its starting point.

The words "beautiful", "lyrical" and "evocative" aren't ones that you would normally attribute to a horror movie, but they are precisely the ones that best describe Kwaidan, a quintet of Samurai Gothics based (interestingly enough) on the writings of an American author by the name of Lafcadio Hearn. Shot in gorgeous, sumptuous color way back in 1964 by director Masaki Kobayashi, Kwaidan is an unusual, unique and quite extraordinary entry in the old horror anthology genre best represented by 1945's Dead of Night and Milton Subotsky's Amicus anthology series (i.e. Dr. Terror's House of Horrors, Tales From the Crypt & Asylum).

Kwaidan differentiates itself from the pack in a number of significant ways. To begin with, all of the episodes eschew the usual O. Henry "twist" endings and deliberately telegraph their punches, case in point being "Hoichi the Earless", which gives away its climax with its very title! This film is also missing the compulsory "wrap-around" story normally employed by anthology films to tie all the stories together, and the horror elements are far more low-key than most horror aficianados are used to. Kwaidan is far less concerned with springing shocks and fraying nerves than it is in exploring the whirlwind of conflicting emotions that swirl in the dark night of the human soul.

"The Black Hair" is the tale of an impoverished samurai who abandons his loyal and loving wife to marry the daughter of a wealthy lord in another province, only to discover many years later that he is still in love with his first spouse. He returns to their decaying old house to find her exactly as he left her, affectionate and forgiving as could be. You know something in this household just ain't right. "The Woman in the Snow" concerns an apprentice woodcutter who encounters an eerily beautiful female ice-vampire - called a "Yuki-Onna - who spares his life on the condition that he never tell a soul about their encounter. (If you saw the last episode of the flaccid Tales From the Darkside movie, on which this was based, you have an idea of how this one ends).

"Hoichi the Earless", easily the most powerful of the bunch, regards a blind biwa (a stringed instrument resembling a guitar) player renowned for his moving rendition of the tragic tale of the battle between the Genji and Heiki clans. Each night he is summoned to the nearby graveyard to chant the epic tale for the ghosts of the warriors who fell in that battle, duped by the spirits into believing that he's performing in the home of a wealthy lord. When Hoichi disocvers that he has been decieved by the dead and refuses to perform for them again, the ghosts exact a terrible revenge.

A note of warning to those deterred by long foreign films: this shimmering jewel in Japanese cinema's crown clocks in at nearly three hours of length and is, of course, fully subtitled. Visually bold, rich and color and texture, and atmospherically photographed with a spine-tingling elegance, I can't guarantee that you'll like Kwaidan, but I think that I can safely assure you'll never forget it. Highly recommended, especially for Japanophiles and those with a taste for high class horror.

This is one of my favorite horror films, and I daresay one of my favorite films in general as well. Anyone who doubts that a horror film can be great art as well ought to give this one a try.

I will have to revisit this comment after viewing the film again, as it has been a while, but there were a few comments I thought people might find useful regarding the stories the film adapted.

Two of the stories can be found in Lafcadio Hearn's book Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things. These are "Hoichi the Earless" ("The Story of Mimi-nashi-Hôïchi") and "The Woman in the Snow" ("Yuki-Onna"). The other two can be found in other books of Hearn's; I'm grateful to Kenji Inadomi for pointing out that "Black Hair" can be found as "The Reconciliation" in Shadowings, and "In a Cup of Tea" is to be found in Kotto: Being Japanese Curios, with Sundry Cobwebs.

Many of Hearn's stories can be found online, including all of the above except "In a Cup of Tea." Attractive early hardcovers of Hearn's books are pretty plentiful, though, and not terribly expensive either.

As some others have noticed, there's an uncredited adaptation of "The Woman in the Snow" as the "Lover's Vow" segment of Tales from the Darkside: The Movie (1990). It's not bad, but Kaidan (1964) is the one that got it right.

Kwaidan is one of the great underappreciated films: no one's heard of it, but you'll never, ever forget it once you've seen it. Parts of it may seem slow to some viewers, and most of the stories are extremely predictable, but I have to say this is one of the most beautiful, haunting movies I've ever seen.

Of all the stories I prefer "Black Hair," the first one. Though a rather pointless horseback archery scene just slows it down, it's by far the scariest and most nightmare-worthy of the stories, using sound to incredibly chilling effect. There's more terror in the last minute of this segment than in all three Scream movies put together. Trust me, if you consider yourself a serious fan of horror cinema, you have to see this.

The second story, "The Woman of the Snow," is good, though I wish it ended more like "Black Hair" (you'll see what I mean). "Hoichi the Earless," with its jaw-dropping sea battle sequence, is by far the biggest and most popular of the stories. It's also the most influential, with its main premise prominently re-used in Conan the Barbarian. The film ends with "In a Cup of Tea." This is the only story that doesn't completely telegraph its ending, and coming after three utterly predictable stories, its complexity is a bit unexpected and disorienting. Certainly it's as creepy and beautiful as the rest of the film, but I have to admit I don't really understand it.

Being a tremendous fan of elegant, understated horror movies, as well as a student of Japanese culture, I consider this film one of my all-time favorites. Granted, some viewers may be turned off by the leisurely pace and the theatrical, intentionally unrealistic sets. But this is undeniably a beautiful and chilling film, absolutely perfect to watch late at night, alone, in the dark.

This Japanese horror classic is an artistic masterpiece of sound, framing, design, and color. Director Masaki Kobayashi's visuals could often almost be viewed as a painting! Kwaidan is a four-piece anthology, with each tale involving the supernatural. None of them were really frightening but they all managed to be atmospheric, and even haunting at times. I'd be hard pressed to pick a favorite but I was quite fond of both Black Hair and The Woman in the Snow (Tales from the Darkside ripped off that one). I also liked Hoichi the Earless (the title reveals too much, I think), though it was a bit dry. In a Cup of Tea was probably the shortest of the four and I really enjoyed the idea behind it. My biggest complaint about Kwaidan is that with the 164-minute length and consistently slow pace, there are times when the movie drags. However, with all the other qualities, sitting through some slow spots wasn't that much of a problem.

Masaki Kobayashi could have made his "horror" film, Kwaidan, simply an expression of style, of the incredibly detailed sets and carefully timed- even meditative in execution and graceful- cinematography, of the actors succumbing to the world they're in with their perfectly modulated reactions to seeing what shouldn't be real but is there in front of their faces. It could have been production over substance, but thankfully this is not the case. Kobayashi, first and foremost, is a born storyteller, and with Kwaidan he's crafted four stories that may not exactly horrify in the sense of real post-modern horror; for those who think it might be just another 3 Extremes or something will be disappointed in a lack of overwhelming gore (albeit Miike's segment possibly comes closest to the sensibility of Kobayashi's).

It is mood and atmosphere, so much atmosphere you can occasionally cut it with a knife that it's so thick. But it's a mood of patience with the story, of letting the turns and conflicts come at such a pace that is just about right for traditional Japan. In fact, this may be one of the purest expressions of what is purely 'Japanese' in storytelling; in expressing fear and honor, faith and belief, love and loss and memory, ceremony and 'classical' music, and what is both painful and, oddly, optimistic about the afterlife. While each of the four stories told- Black Hair, Woman in Snow, Hoichi the Earless, and In the Tea- aren't altogether perfect, with the moment once every so often that might drag even with the intended pace, one by one they build to a staggering effect.

The first two stories are more or less about love, how one loses the one he loves to go up in status as a samurai and how another is spared by a ghost in a blizzard only to find the woman he marries and has children with years later may be the *same* women (or the same something). These first two are told in essence somewhat conventionally, but its only in the structure. What becomes interesting is how the actors use the spaces their given, and how Kobayashi directs them through these very dark innards of the house or riding fast on the horse and seeing a vision back to his wife; or the vision in the snowstorm of a giant eye at the far end of things, the icy blue that encompasses Nakadai's character and the woman swearing him to secrecy. Somehow Kobayashi makes the predictability of Nakadai's wife being the ghost besides the point; it's about the more personal, ethereal aspects to this struggle, which are met with a staggering amount of tenderness and tragedy.

In fact, there seems to be a current of tragedy running through these stories. When treated seriously enough, death and ghosts can bring tragic terms for an audience, and this is no less than relevant in the other two stories. Here, Kobayashi does something a little more interesting as a storyteller: the Hoichi story could potentially be considered a short feature, not simply a short, as it's the longest at a little over an hour; the last story about the images in the tea, however, is intentionally the shortest and meant to be a comment on storytelling itself- how mortal an act it actually is, in a weird way. This first story, with the blind Hoichi, actually brought a tear to my eye at one moment at the climax of the story (without spoiling it directly one can see it right on the cover of the DVD), as it had at its core a tale of innocence shattered by the presence of ghosts of old (it should also be noted the battle scene on the war-ships is exceptionally staged in being *apart* of a noticeable artificial setting of orange backgrounds).

And the last story, about a swordsman who sees a man reappear from his tea glass to seemingly in front of his eyes, and the conflict that ensues with him and the ghosts 'representatives', represents a surprising ending point. What is it to believe what you see, and to even come to accept that there's supernatural forces at work? Somehow, almost in spite of everything being precisely and deliberately staged at the Toho studios, with every ounce of money possible put into these sets and costumes and color schemes, and the fact that the actors (all of them excellent to one degree or another, including the blind Hoichi and the angered spirit of the 'wife' with no sandals), everything Kobayashi does feels real on some internal level. It operates a helluva lot more believably than most films about ghost stories, and in the framework of an art-house picture it is a work that is unequivocally, seriously and wondrously, eerie. Kwaidan is the work of some kind of master artist. A+

Four tales of the supernatural drawn from Japanese folklore: in the first, an ambitious samurai returns to the wife he abandoned many years before only to find she hasn't aged in all that time; in the second, a beautiful vampire makes a young man promise never to mention an encounter they had or else; in the third, a blind balladeer has fans from beyond the grave; and in the last, there are reasons why some authors never complete their stories...

Slow-moving and surreal, the hypnotically beautiful mis-en-scene kept me watching even if a couple of the stories weren't exactly riveting. My favorite was "The Woman Of The Snow" which was reworked in a segment of TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE: THE MOVIE called "The Lover's Vow". Ironically, when KWAIDAN was released in the U.S. this segment (the best, IMO) was left out ...and folks still liked the film (even the NY Times' usually clueless Bosley Crowther). Nominated for an Oscar as "Best Foreign Film".

If movies were judged solely on visual / pictorial terms, "Kwaidan" would rate a well-deserved 10 out of 10. Unfortunately, in other respects it is not nearly as successful. The first story is slow and static, but does lead to a shocking ending. The second is also slow and static, but is distinguished by its striking compositions and extraordinary use of colors: it often looks like paintings brought into full life. This approach intensifies in the third tale, which is even more visually dazzling but also inscrutable, overextended (about 80 minutes long!) and, well, boring. The fourth episode is the shortest, but still feels long; after 183 minutes, we've frankly had more than our filling of ghosts. **1/2 out of 4.

I like Toho movies, for the most part anyway. They have a real charm about them but when they merge their bleak samurai films with horror they just don't seem to be able to pull it off and Kaidan (Otherwise known as Ghost Stories) is an example of this.

Standing at just over three hours in length it's a 4 story horror anthology all set around the same feudal Japanese time period. Each is a ghost story but alas the quality is not consistent, I'd say two are bad, one is really bad, and one is extremely enjoyable.

The second story really does save this but immediately looked familiar. If you've ever seen Tales from the Darkside (1990) you'll recognize The Woman in the Snow as Lovers Vow and is the highlight of Kaidan.

What I have to point out though is how good it all looks, this is of course a fairly early Toho film to be released in color and they truly make the most of it. The film has some astonishing visuals and on that front they unconditionally knocked it out of the park.

I always go into Toho movies wanting to like them and for the most part I do, this however is three quarters bad and is only notable for the one single story (Which is well worth a watch).

Should have been better.

The Good:

Some incredible visuals

Second story is very good.

The Bad:

Some really bad sound editing

Most of the stories just aren't very interesting

'Kwaidan' is an astonishing film, once seen never forgotten. It's labeled horror, but while the four stories within deal with ghosts and the supernatural, I doubt that anyone would be actually frightened watching it. Haunted, yes, scared, no. It's a beautiful movie, very stylized with a very imaginative use of colour. I can't think of anything else I've seen that comes close. Mario Bava, maybe. The movie consists of four stories. I think it's best watched as a whole to let each story blend in to the other, but if forced to choose I would say my favourite segment is the second one ('The Woman In The Snow') which I believe was left out of the version of the movie originally shown outside Japan. 'Kwaidan' is one of those rare movies that leaves you stunned the first time you see it. For me it's equal to 'Rashomon', 'Woman In The Dunes' and 'Branded To Kill' as the most amazing Japanese movies I've ever seen. Each one of these movies blew my mind. It's difficult not to gush about all four. They come with my highest recommendation. I sincerely believe that anybody who watches them will be incredibly impressed. They are all masterpieces.

Based on Japanese folk tales collected by Greek-born author Lafcadio Hearn (who was so fascinated by the culture of Japan that he acquired Japanese citizenship and became known as Koizumi Yakumo), "Kwaidan" is a brilliant omnibus film that, four-and-a-half decades after its initial release, continues to stun audiences the world over. All four of the tales are memorably creepy, but the first--which stars Rentaro Mikuni as a poor man who rejects his devoted wife in favor of wealth and social standing--has always struck me as particularly spine-chilling. The second story, based on Hearn's oft-anthologized 'Yuki-Onna', features Tatsuya Nakadai (who also starred in director Masaki Kobayashi's "The Human Condition" and "Harakiri") as a young woodcutter who, while trapped in a snowstorm, encounters a female spirit. The third tale involves a blind musician (Katsuo Nakamura) who performs the Tale of the Heike, an account of the tragic fall of the 81st emperor of Japan. In the final tale, a samurai sees a ghost in a cup of tea. The film is shot almost entirely on eerily artificial indoor sets, and Kobayashi uses color to the greatest possible advantage. While "Kwaidan" is definitely a horror film, it is unlike any other horror film that I know of. It won't appeal to those who crave blood and guts, but if you have a more finely-honed aesthetic sense, these stories will remain with you long after the film has ended.

I cherished hopes to experience the touch with the Japanese culture (music, lifestyle) and mystic things when I bought the DVD.

The film was interesting to watch and think about because it tells 4 interesting mystic stories covering Japanese life of the Middle ages and later periods.

The plots of the stories have the intrigue aspects and the moral teaching good things. The moral about true love to the lady, wisdom in the good words, passionate feeling about art and many other ideas.

The soundtrack is interesting to listen, because the Japanese national instruments were used.

The sounds of the biwa (the Japanese lute) and the words of the song about sad battle with many deaths, do provide mystic feeling and some time for reflections about passionate feeling of music associated with the life of musician.

My expectations did not change when I remember the private view at the University in 2005.

I did hope to remember the comments of the American professor, a good specialist of religion and anthropology who told about this movie for a large audience from Siauliai University (the city of Siauliai, the Republic of Lithuania) after the private view with professors and students.

I was surprised to find the small booklet with the text of the stories told in this film and additional comments on the film.

A good film, a must to have in your collection of DVD films...

Kwaidan is a somewhat difficult work. Its four stories, with the exception of one, are not very involving and they can even become a little boring in their narrative. They are not very frightening, although they all attain a level of creepiness. Except for "Hoichi, the Earless," one of the most stunning tales I've ever experienced in a film, you can see the ending coming from a long ways away (the final episode, "In a Cup of Tea," is a little different, in that it has no ending, per se; the ending the filmmakers do come up with is a little disappointing).

The reason that this film is a masterpiece is its masterful composition. I think I have heard that Kobayashi was a painter. Even if I just made that up, it would fit. The colors are godly. Any frame of the film is a masterful painting. If you are interested in composition and cinematography in film, this is the one to see. If you only care about narrative, read books. Don't watch films. But at least see "Hoichi the Earless" for its composition and story. I suggest buying the Criterion released DVD. It is one of the cheaper DVDs of that company. And you don't have to watch the four stories in succession. If you watch them apart, and they could very easily be watched apart, the boredom factor will fade from existence.

Masaki Kobayashi's ""Kwaidan" comprises of four ghost stories, each told in the kind of Kabuki-style that many Japanese films are famous for and all are visually highly attractive if a little on the predictable side, (only the third one really stands out from the others). Indeed, this is a movie in which style dominates with many of the frames looking like old prints but in terms of content the film is sadly lacking in substance. The cast, however, go at it as if they were performing some sacred text even if Kobayashi doesn't want to do anything as crude as breathe life into the proceedings, Still, as portmanteau pictures about ghosts go, it's definitely a cut above average. It's also, I feel, highly overrated.

This film presents four supernatural tales:

"Black Hair" ("O Cabelo Negro"): In the ancient Kyoto, a samurai decides to leave his poor but beloved wife and become a rich man marrying a wealthy wife. He misses his wife, and years later, when he returns to her, he finds a surprise waiting for him.

"The Woman in the Snow" ("A Mulher da Neve"): An old and a young woodmen are surprised by a snow storm, and the younger is saved by the spirit of a snow woman. He promises to never tell what had happened to him. Years later, he breaks his promise, disclosing the secret to his wife.

"Hoichi the Earless" ("Hoichi, O Sem Orelhas"): The blind Hoichi lives in a temple and magnificently plays his biwa and tells the sea battle of Dan-No-Ura between the clans of Genji and Heike. One night he is invited to perform his skills to a rich family and their guests in their house.

"In a Cup of Tea" ("Em Uma Xícara de Chá"): a samurai drinks water in a cup of tea, and he sees the soul of a former samurai. Later, he is haunted by the spirit.

"Kaidan" is the first work of Masaki Kobayashi that I have had the chance to see, and I am really impressed with such masterpiece of Japanese supernatural. Beginning with the visual using of awesome colors and cinematography, which look like paints on exhibition, all the stories are amazingly great without exception. The title of the third story spoils the twist, and the storyline of the second story was adapted in one episode of "Tales From the Crypt" years later. My vote is ten.

Title (Brazil): "Kwaidan, As Quatro Faces do Medo" ("Kwaidan, The Four Faces of Fear")

There's NO DENYING this is a BEAUTIFUL movie. It's so quiet, like a babbling brook, but that's kind of the problem. If you're not interested in Japanese Culture then there's not a lot to like here. Everything is shot beautifully, it's acted well but its pace is purposefully meditative to be reflective. It's one of those movies where if it were in a film class, they'd pause after each story and dissect it for the whole week.

I liked the movie, but the reality is, there isn't much here, this is one of those movies that people watch to feign cultural superiority and intelligence. This is why it's a 7 out of 10 since it says nothing of real importance, it's there to look pretty, and only give you the cliff notes of the cliff notes on some Shinto demonology. There's some cool concepts here, and you can't hate it, since it's so beautiful and well executed but at the end of the day, upon reflecting, you realize nothing was really said. I liked it as a Japanophile, since I love me some anime and japanese horor and survive style five and Rampo Noir. Even though this has supernatural elements, this is classic GOTHIC HORROR or more cerebral horror, character studies.

So, no I don't think this is one of those films you have to see, but if you see it, be prepared for its slow pace.

Masterful cinematography and beautiful imagery. The colours and the sets are incredible, and a truly haunting soundtrack. I understand that the stories are from Japanese folklore, but to be honest they weren't the most compelling. My favourite of the four is 'Woman of the Snow'. A very chilling ghost story.

May re-watch individual sections to truly appreciate each story

I have to place this film in the category of very pretty to look at, but lacking substance. Kwaidan is essentially four horror stories stuck together into a very long film. There are four tales: one of an abandoned first wife, one of a snow woman, one of a monk and ghosts, and the last (and most interesting, but not necessarily my favorite) about people in water.

First of all, the imagery in this film is fantastic. Despite the fact that the films are clearly all shot in a studio setting and lack realism, the amount of control and precision placed into each shot, the costumes, the sets, all result in a very amazing look.

The stories themselves are fairly interesting, although simple and very much like oral tradition stories, rather than the more complex stories typically told via film. That is to say, the the ideas in the story are quite good. However, the execution of the stories leaves a lot to be desired. The pace of the film is remarkably slow. It's like molasses.

Granted, I don't usually mind slow moving films. However, there's so much time and energy spent on allowing the images to marinate that I got hypersaturated. At many points, I saw all that I wanted to see and wanted to move on. Each story could easily be told in a five-to-ten minute oral recitation, which would retain all the story points and make it more compelling. But in Kwaidan, each story is essentially stretched out to almost half an hour, spending large chunks of time with images unnecessary to the storytelling. These stories are very poorly told, and I'm not decrying taking time to set up a scene or to relax a viewer into the scenes. Because of the length of the wait, the payoffs are a little diminished--when they finally happen, I was left thinking, "I waited all this while for that?" I mean, again, the stories are good, but imagine sitting for two-and-a-half hours listening to a guy tell four short ghost stories. It's just not efficient.

However, there is a tremendous display of culture (and even some history) present in the film. I can see the interest and value of the film for that, combined with its visual artistry. However, I feel that only those with an intense interest in Japan will find all the elements worthwhile. That is to say that Kwaidan is really just for a select audience. Average moviegoers and even many cinephiles will find it lacking. I certainly had a hard time staying awake through its chapters. My favorites story: The Woman of the Snow. Most Interesting: Cup of Tea. Most cultural display: Hoichi the Earless. Scariest story: Black Hair.

Even with all that, I can't recommend it except to those with extremely strong interest in Japan and Japanese culture (or those that just love pretty pictures). The rest of you, I suggest you find a Japanese storyteller to tell you the stories. You'll get a better effect in about a fifth of the time. Pass. 5/10.