In a grassy marsh in war-torn Japan, an old woman (Nobuko Otowa) and her daughter-in-law (Jitsuko Yoshimura) make their living by luring and killing lost samurai and selling their weapons and armor for food.  When their neighbor, Hachi (Kei Satō), returns home from the war, he tells the women that Kishi, the older woman’s son and the younger’s husband, was killed after the two deserted.  The younger woman, now a widow, begins to show interest in Hachi and despite her mother-in-law’s objections they continue to see each other every night until a masked warrior (Jūkichi Uno) finds himself ensnared into the poor women’s trap and changes everything.

Onibaba is Kaneto Shindô’s 1964 telling a classic story from Japanese folklore revolving around a woman who, through her jealousy and resentment, was turned into a demon spirit.  The film’s black and white photography creates great shadows that add to the eerie feel of the piece which helps to disorientate the audience like the poor samurai, too.  It opens on a mysterious pit somewhere in the field which we later learn is where the women dispose of the bodies of their victims.  The threat of the pit is always looming over the film, especially when the women go hunting.

Much of the film is following people running through the reeds while the frantic score by Hikaru Hayashi plays over the visuals.  It mixes traditional Taiko drumming with jazz – a strange combination on paper, but in practice works incredibly well.  Both the drums and the jazz elements are packed with energy that help fuel the tension and emulate the often time addled feeling the characters are experiencing.  It gives us a sense that there is always someone or something lurking just out of view, and it is true of the film because when the two women are not hunting to survive, the older woman is often stalking the younger as she elopes with Hachi at every available moment.

At only 102 minutes, Onibaba does feel a little longer as its action is very cyclical given the monotonous nature of the two women’s meager lives.  It is a simple story, stretched to its limits, but not overdone.  Once you can fall into step with the film, however, it is an engrossing tale with lots of suspense and some good scares, too.  For instance, there is a striking scene late in the film during a storm where Onibaba appears at once in a flash of lightning before levitating over the grass and flying towards the camera. 

The design of the Hannya mask has since become an iconic piece of cinema and costuming history.  Much like how the black and white photography accents the tall grass, the shadows that play across the face of the mask are nothing short of incredible.  It is unmoving, but the use of light and shadow as well as the physicality of the actors manage to give the mask a wide range of emotions; intimidating, scared, and ultimately pitiful.

Without the full backing knowledge of the folk lore, the moral of the story is a bit cloudy.  Overall, it is a cautionary tale about meddling in the lives of others.  There are elements of greed and jealousy at play here, too, but as it is presented it mostly comes off as a warning to worry about ourselves and to let other people live how they want.  It is a little muddy in its presentation, however, as the film does not give a strong argument to the young widow.  The older woman, if left alone, will not be able to make a living – granted her current career path itself is morally questionable to say the least – but the script treats her as someone without any options left to her and by doing so weakens the messaging. 

Onibaba is a very intriguing piece that, while simple in design and setup, is still very rewarding upon multiple viewings as well.  Best viewed in a dark room with the lights off and the thermostat set just a little colder than is comfortable, the images on screen are consistently haunting and lend themselves perfectly to the unsettling story which unfolds.  It does not rely on brutal violence or constant jump scares so that when Onibaba does make her way into the narrative, the film takes on a whole new level of dread transforming the dramatic piece into a total nightmare.