Onryō: Japanese ghosts in horror movies

Are there any brave souls out there? Who hasn’t been scared to death while watching Ju-On (The Grudge in the American remake), Ringu (The Ring in the American remake), Honogurai mizu no soko kara (Dark Water), Chakushin Ari (One Missed Call), or Shutter? Yes, indeed, Japanese/Asian horror films give us the chills. In fact, they have become a subgenre within the horror movie realm, thanks especially to Ringu and its iconic Sadako Yamamura. Let’s not forget about Mitsuko from Dark Water. But what do these films have in common? The answer is simple: the terrifying and spine-chilling spirits haunting you are known as Onryō.

Actually, it’s mostly just one spirit, as this vengeful ghost from Japanese folklore is usually portrayed as a woman. She is characterized by her long black hair, white attire, and a deathly pale face. The cinematic world has also captured this image with Kayako, Sadako, Mimiko, and Natre, who are responsible for robbing us of sleep and sending shivers down our spines. Here’s an image to demonstrate.

Hokusai Onryo
Hokusai Onryo

But what exactly is an Onryō? Let’s delve into Japanese folklore and culture to explore the origins, nature, and hidden stories behind these beings and how they have evolved over time. But first, meet little Mitsuko to get a taste of what’s to come.

Yūrei and Onryō: Ghosts and Vengeful Spirits in Japanese Folklore

At Khronos, we previously explored some rather eerie characters from Japanese folklore known as Yōkai. However, they are not the only supernatural beings in Japanese culture. Ghosts and vengeful spirits are common across various cultures, and Japan is no exception. They are called Yūrei, come in different types, and have connections to Buddhism.

According to Buddhist beliefs, when someone dies a violent death, carries strong emotions at the moment of death, or doesn’t receive proper funeral rituals, their spirit (reikon) transforms into a Yūrei. Thus, a Yūrei is a tormented spirit, dressed in white, often with a white headband (related to Buddhist funeral rituals), possessing long, loose hair and arms hanging limply at their sides. Since the Edo period (1603-1868), they are depicted without feet, floating in the air, and have been artistically represented in Ukiyo-e prints.

Onryō, ghosts from Japanese movies

These Yūrei wander in the world of the living and usually find peace when they achieve their objective. However, that’s not the case with Onryō (although they share the same visual appearance, especially the long, loose hair). Onryō are the most powerful and vengeful Yūrei, almost always female, and the most popular among them.

Onryō: A Tale of Gender-based Violence

Onryō are the Japanese ghosts we are most familiar with, mainly through movies. Their origins can be traced back to at least the 8th century and are an essential part of Kaidan, a narrative genre that translates to “strange stories to be heard.” They are also central figures in Noh theater, which has been performed since the 14th century. These spirits seek revenge far and wide against those who caused their violent deaths.

However, where does all this deep-rooted anger come from? In most cases, Onryō are women who were victims of gender-based violence. Sometimes, their vengeance is satisfied by the death of their abuser, but their wrath can also extend to their abuser’s family. In the case of Onryō depicted in cinema, their revenge amplifies and targets anyone, innocent or not.

Onryō as Repressive Elements

Initially, Onryō played a significant role in the spread of Buddhism as they symbolized souls possessed by passions like love, hatred, jealousy, or vengeance. Since Buddhism emphasizes distancing oneself from the attachments of this world to achieve Nirvana, Onryō served as perfect counterexamples. In other words, their primary function was not to scare people but to warn them of the consequences of transgressions.

It’s important to note that Buddhism in Japan is often intertwined with Shintoism, which is closely related to Onryō, as we’ll see later. Moreover, Confucianism, with its strict social restrictions and hierarchical order, also influenced Japanese culture. It expected all members of society to know their place and respect the hierarchy to ensure social well-being, which is reflected in Japanese horror cinema as well. So, originally, Onryō served to deter transgressions and were depicted as malevolent entities, oozing with malice and hatred at first sight.

The Feminization of Japanese Ghosts

The female representation of Onryō has its origins in Genji Monogatari (The Tale of Genji), a novel dating back to around the year 1000 (Heian period), and its protagonist, Rokujō no Miyasudokoro. This tale set a precedent for the connection between women, the supernatural, and vengeance.

The Tale of Genji tells the story of Lady Rokujō, the widow of an imperial prince and a noblewoman, who is courted by Genji, the son of an emperor, married to another woman, and a womanizer. They begin an affair, and Genji eventually humiliates and mistreats her. Consumed by grief, pride, and jealousy, Lady Rokujō enters a state of deep sorrow, “dying while alive.” From this living death, her ikiryō (a living person’s ghost) emerges, an evil spectral force seeking revenge. Thus, Rokujō no Miyasudokoro and her ikiryō are the origin of the pronounced feminization of ghosts in Japan.

After Lady Rokujō’s death, her ikiryō stopped acting. However, when she was insulted by Genji again, she returned as an Onryō to complete her vengeance.

This ghost marks the disadvantaged position of Japanese women in relation to men. All these Japanese female ghosts reflect the history of women in Japan.

Onryō in Noh and Kabuki Theater

It is in Noh and Kabuki theater that Onryō are more clearly defined. In most cases, they are women who were deceived, violated, abused, and often murdered, returning to the living world as ghosts to take revenge on their husbands or lovers. This aligns closely with their depiction in movies, though in cinema, their vengeance extends to nearly everyone.

From the Edo period, their portrayal solidified, wearing funeral attire (katabira) in white, with long black hair and a pale (read: white) face, staring intensely. This appearance of a female ghost has its origin in a painting, “The Ghost of O-Yuki” (1750).

This duality of emotions they evoke, between compassion and fear, makes Onryō enigmatic entities. Their need to seek retribution against the men who wronged them shatters traditional gender roles and challenges the social order. As vengeful spirits, they defy the norms of a patriarchal society, transforming from victims into powerful agents of change. In the realm of Japanese horror cinema, these female ghosts serve as a powerful metaphor for the struggle of Japanese women against oppression and discrimination.

They are not merely malevolent specters; they are the embodiment of resilience and empowerment, demanding recognition and respect in a world that has silenced their voices for far too long. Through the legacy of Onryō, these films reveal the transformative power of cinema in shedding light on social issues and awakening the collective consciousness to the need for change.

What do Onryō Represent?

In the world of Japanese cinema, these Onryō represent more than just malevolence; they carry a deep-seated desire for vengeance and liberation from the shackles of patriarchal society. They challenge traditional gender roles and norms, seeking retribution against the men who have wronged them.

Sadako, Kayako, and the other Onryō embody the collective resentment and anger of Japanese women who have been marginalized and victimized by a patriarchal society. They stand as a symbol of protest, a cry for change, and a demand for gender equality. The cinematic representation of these vengeful female spirits highlights the growing awareness and solidarity among Japanese women, as they unite against the oppressive forces that have silenced and oppressed them for so long.

The most famous Onryō, Oiwa, from the renowned kabuki play “Yotsuya Kaidan” (The Ghost Story of Yotsuya and Iemon), epitomizes this trend. Based on a real crime from the early 19th century, the play tells the tale of Iemon, a samurai who murders his wife, Oiwa, to marry a wealthier woman. Oiwa returns as an Onryō to torment Iemon, leading to a series of gruesome events that result in further violence.

Oiwa became the quintessential Onryō, and her story has been adapted into more than thirty films. Notably, “Tokaido Yotsuya Kaidan” (1959) is a classic of Japanese horror cinema and a direct influence on later films that have captivated audiences from the late ’90s to the early ’00s. In this adaptation, Oiwa’s representation is slightly modified, linking her with snakes (associated with female spirits) instead of rats.

The significance of the Onryō’s long, loose, and disheveled hair shouldn’t be overlooked either. In ancient Japan, it was observed that hair continued to grow after death, leading to conflicting associations with vitality and savagery. Long hair was also linked to female sexuality and reproductive power and served as a means of communication with divine entities and the deceased.

The choice of hairstyle was strictly regulated in Confucian-influenced Japan, where individuals were expected to conform to specific hairstyles based on their social status and gender. The idea of a woman with long, loose hair defying societal norms and expressing an uncontrollable passion, frustrated love, or immense psychological and physical anguish was seen as dangerous and transgressive.

Conclusions

As Japan navigates its dual identity between tradition and modernity, these films not only reflect the fear of losing cultural identity but also serve as a critique of excessive reliance on new technologies. Onryō in modern Japanese cinema often manifest through technology, such as videotapes or mobile phones. The message here is clear: the rapid technological advancement and individualistic consumerism threaten to dissolve the collective identity and traditional values of Japan.

In essence, these Onryō represent more than just spooky ghost stories; they are powerful symbols of social change and female empowerment. The vengeful female spirits in Japanese horror cinema are more violent than their traditional counterparts because they embody the collective consciousness of women, who are now more aware of their place and power within society.

In conclusion, the fear instilled by Onryō in Japanese horror films goes beyond the supernatural. It exposes the underlying violence and oppression faced by women in a patriarchal society. The evolution of Onryō reflects the changing roles and identities of women in Japan, as they reject victimhood and reclaim their agency. These films serve as a rallying cry for equality and liberation, reminding the world that Japanese women are no longer content to remain silent and submissive. So, if you dare to watch these films, opt for the original versions, for they carry a powerful message that shouldn’t be diluted by American remakes.

References

(1) RinguHideo Nakata: 1998 (Ancuta, 2007, p. 23; Hutchings, 2008, pp. 264-265; Leeder, 2019, p. 133; it may be one of the films of j-horror most notable that it is inspired by surreal cinema; Brown, 2018, p. 16). Also by Hideo Nakata (to know more about him: Hutchings, 2008, pp. 229-230) is Dark Water (Honogurai mizu no soko kara): 2002 (McRoy, 2008, p. 75). Ju onTakashi Shimizu: 2000 (Ancuta, 2019, p. 251; Blouin, 2010, pp. 11-14; McRoy, 2008, p. 75; to learn more about the director: Hutchings, 2008, pp. 290-291). chakushin ariTakashi Miike: 2003 (Blouin, 2010, pp. 6 and 9-10; Castañer Ruiz, 2016, pp. 43-44; One Missed Call; McRoy, 2015, p. 196 and 255). Balmain, 2008, p. 191-193. Y shutter (Banjong Pisanthanakun, 2004); we could also mention Two sisters (Kim Jee-woon, 2003) and The Wig, the killer wig (Gabal, 2005). Míguez Santa Cruz, 2016, pp. 61-62, 71 and 342-343. Ringu is a saga (1998-2005), just like Ju on (2000-2006): Castañer Ruiz, 2016, pp. 32-39 and 46-50. McRoy, 2015, p. 200 and 213.

(2) called j-horror (Brown, 2018, pp. 1-7; Leeder, 2015, p. 12; Japanese horror; Boey, 2012, pp. 83-101; Hutchings, 2008, pp. 179-181), at the end of the 20th century (Blouin , 2010, p. 3; Raya Bravo and López Rodríguez, 2016, pp. 743-745) “revolutionized the horror film genre globally due to the success achieved by Ringu”. Míguez Santa Cruz, 2019, p. 61.

(3) “Sadako Yamamura (Ringu, which “remains Japan’s most commercially successful domestic horror film”; Balanzategui, 2013, p. 2) has already secured its position in the monster horror pantheon as an instantly recognizable horror icon.” Ancuta, 2007, p. 23. “Sadako, the well-known movie ghost, actually came from a novel written in 1991 by Koji Suzuki (Mourinha, 2020, p. 222) (…). As often happens with milestone films, a veritable trickle of debtor productions would flood theaters on five continents (…) an army of Sadako clones, which gives us a measure of to what extent Ringu it has become fused with pop culture.” Míguez Santa Cruz, 2019, pp. 61-62 and 71. “The most influential, or at least representative, ghost of the 21st century was actually invented in the 20th. Sadako Yamamura (…) It has come to life (or not to life) not only in the literary and cinematographic sequels but in a variety of cultural translations. In the Korean version, The Ring Virus (Kim Dong-bin, 1999), becomes Park Eun-Suh; in the american The Ring (Gore Verbinski, 2002; Mourinha, 2020, p. 220) and its sequels, is Samara Morgan”. Reader, 2019, p. 133. “In the late 1990s, Sadako became (…) virtually an emblem of Onryō. (…) became the very face of Japanese horror cinema”. But Ringu it was not the first film that shows an Onryō: they are Kaidan, Ugetsu (1953) by Kenji Mizoguchi (considered one of the most important directors of Japanese cinema; Balmain, 2008, p. 43) and Kuroneko (1968) by Kineto Shindo. McRoy, 2015, p. 199-200, 207 and 209-210. Also kwaidan (Masaki Kobayashi; 1964) and onibaba (Kaneto Shindo; 1964). Petty, 2011, p. 86-131. Y Tokaidō Yotsuya kaidan from Nakagawa (1959). “The representations of ghosts in these films, and also in Ringu, owe much to the aesthetic of kabuki, whose roots go back to the ghost stories of the Edo period.” Mourinha, 2020, p. 226.

(4) “We characterize our ghost Mitsuko as an Onryō or ghost of a girl, but that attends to characteristics of zashiki warashi in terms of appearance and an Onryō in terms of its vengeful character. Garcia Bellido, 2019, p. 165.

(5) Reader, 2015, p. 12. Requena Hidalgo, 2009, p. 19. The Onryō is the prototypical Japanese ghost, the most popular and terrifying supernatural figure in Japanese popular culture. “For the past two decades, a specter has been haunting horror film production around the world. That spectrum is the figure of the onryō, or the avenging spirit (Balmain, 2008, p. 43; Boey, 2012, p. 137; McRoy, 2008, p. 6; or ‘vengeful’; Blouin, 2010, p. 7; García Bellido, 2019, p. 114; Holm, 2011, p. 183; Lovelace, 2008, p. 30; Míguez Santa Cruz, 2016, p. 84) of Japanese folklore (Mourinha, 2020, p. 221). They are “‘injured’ entities, mainly female (Castañer Ruiz, 2016, p. 128), who return to impose their anger on living beings that have harmed them.” McRoy, 2015, p. 199 and 201. “(…) most of the vengeful spirits that appear in Japanese films are wronged women. According to popular tradition, they are always presented as onryo, a vengeful female spirit with long black hair.” Ancuta, 2007, p. 36. “More than 80% of the Japanese ghosts that appear in her narrative are female.” Míguez Santa Cruz, 2019, p. 69. “These vengeful female spirits are reminiscent of the iconic Japanese onryō; Sadako Yamamura’s Ringu (“, is an onryō, one of the traditional vengeful female ghosts of Japanese folklore, and shares her traditional appearance: white burial attire, bloodless white skin, and long black hair”; Leeder, 2019, p. 133) and Kayako Saeki’s Ju on (“Kayako is an obvious example of an onryō, the spirit of a tormented woman in life who returns to exact her revenge. This supernatural figure, very present in the Japanese cultural tradition, appears in practically every successful Japanese horror film in the West, so it has become the symbol of J-Horror”; Raya Bravo and López Rodríguez, 2016, p. 750) (…) illustrate modern iterations of the figure”. Ancuta, 2019, p. 251. The onryō is also present in the world of video games: Míguez Santa Cruz, 2016, pp. 166-169. Toniolo, 2019, p. 131-144.

(6) García Bellido, 2019, p. 46. ​​Requena Hidalgo, 2009, p. 14.“yūrei It is the general term in Japanese to refer to the ghost (Míguez Santa Cruz, 2019, p. 62). In literature and other arts, she is a prototypically female character, although there are some yūrei masculine. The term includes other types of spectra with more specific functions, such as onryo (especially vengeful ghosts).” Tomás Rodríguez, 2018, p. 8. Typologies of the Yūrei: Míguez Santa Cruz, 2016, pp. 161-166. “The characters that make up the word yūrei jointly mean ghost, (…) their kanji (…) Yū (幽) symbolizes what is cloudy, gloomy or cloudy, while rei (霊) represents someone’s soul or spirit. In general, we are talking about a gloomy ghost with a negative look, far removed from the romantic mood that some of his counterparts present in European literature”. Míguez Santa Cruz, 2018, p. 150. “Asian spirits (…) have traditionally become a purely anthropomorphic form. They are able to look and behave exactly like humans and often take advantage of this ability. (…) in many Asian cultures the existence of ghosts is certainly accepted, as part of the wider natural world. The same applies to the entire spectrum of paranormal phenomena.” Ancuta, 2007, p. 31.

(7) Ancuta, 2019, p. 251. Iwasaka, 1994, p. 72 and 82. Requena Hidalgo, 2009, p. 14.

(8) Iwasaka, 1994, p. 86. Requena Hidalgo, 2009, p. 14-15. Tomás Rodríguez, 2018, p. 8. “There are many ghostly categories in Japan, but among them we will highlight here the onryō (…) the most popular Japanese ghost and with the greatest presence in the performing arts.” Míguez Santa Cruz, 2018, p. 150. Míguez Santa Cruz, 2016, p. 161. a onryo it’s a yūrei of greater power and desire for revenge. Míguez Santa Cruz, 2019, p. 66. “Almost always female figures.” Toniolo, 2019, p. 131. “These girls go to an in-between place called purgatory where they languish emotionally until that hatred gives them the strength to return to the world of the living to wreak havoc through emotional torture or outright death.” Garcia Bellido, 2019, p. Four. Five.

(9) McRoy, 2015, p. 201. “The kaidan it is a narrative theme whose origin is embedded in the cultural dawn of Japan”. Analyzing the pair of kanji that make it up, “kai (怪), which means rare, strange or mysterious. (…) dan (談) means to speak, story, or more specifically narrative to be heard, (…) the most precise definition of kaidan would weird stories to be heard (Brown, 2018, p. 2; Iwasaka, 1994, p. xx; Toniolo, 2019, p. 131) (…) the proto-capitalism of the Edo period soon saw a huge market opportunity in the rise of this entertainment”. Míguez Santa Cruz, 2018, pp. 6-7. To the kaidan “various types of ghosts were added, among which are the onryo or strange creatures. Garcia Bellido, 2019, p. 110.

(10) Ancuta, 2019, p. 251. Requena Hidalgo, 2009, p. 18-19.

(11) Míguez Santa Cruz, 2016, p. 161. Toniolo, 2019, p. 131.

(12) “An explanation of the phenomenon can be read in the story ‘The Blue Hood’ by Akinari Ueda.” Requena Hidalgo, 2009, p. 18. With the tales of Akinari Ueda – heavily influenced by the Tale of Genji; see (17) – (22) – the gothic tradition of Japan begins. Lovelace, 2008, p. 30.

(13) Requena Hidalgo, 2009, p. 18-19.

(14) “(…) a kaidan – see (9) – would not necessarily cause fear, or better expressed, its primary function would not necessarily be that. The essential thing in this case would be to provide a moral foundation with a religious or ethical background, in which the grotesque would act as a simple warning to explain what would happen to the hypothetical transgressors”. Míguez Santa Cruz, 2018, p. 6.

(15) The Onryō are “ghosts of the Shinto tradition.” Garcia Bellido, 2019, p. 11. In Asia, «many social restrictions had their roots in the doctrine of Confucianism that maintained the vision of a society as a ‘structure in which relations are inherently unequal’ (…). To ensure the well-being of society, everyone is expected to know their place and respect the hierarchy.” Ancuta, 2007, p. 37. “The forces of the community permeate Japanese society from religion to politics (…). On the contrary, the United States is based on the ideology of the individual versus the collective (…). The Japanese individual is much less privileged in Japanese horror films (…) It is the collectivity itself that subsumes the narrative. The spell of society is omnipresent.” Blouin, 2010, p. 8-9.

(16) Míguez Santa Cruz, 2016, p. 84. “The anxieties that plague and distress human society, such as religious corruption, civil unrest, and family discord (…) these cultural boundaries are an integral part of the overall social structure that produces and is intended to contain women monstrous”. Lovelace, 2008, p. 30.

(17) Artwork by Murasaki Shikibu; “The palatial Court of Heian was made up of a society as scrupulously hierarchical as it was eager to project its nobility through different artistic varieties. (…) an inconstant and superficial caste, intoxicated by disciplines such as calligraphy, music, fashion, or poetry, even at the cost of a hypothetical moral dispersion and a bad reincarnation in the cycle of…

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