<rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title>Kaneto Shindo - vo.rs</title><link>https://vo.rs/tags/kaneto-shindo/</link><description>Latest from the Kaneto Shindo desk at vo.rs.</description><generator>Hugo -- gohugo.io</generator><language>en</language><copyright>This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.</copyright><lastBuildDate>Sun, 28 Dec 2025 09:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://vo.rs/tags/kaneto-shindo/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Onibaba: The Reed Field and the Demon Mask</title><link>https://vo.rs/screen/onibaba-the-reed-field-and-the-demon-mask/</link><description>&lt;p&gt;There is a shot Kaneto Shindo returns to throughout &lt;em&gt;Onibaba&lt;/em&gt; — tall susuki reeds filling the frame, rippling in wind, hissing, going on forever with no horizon and no landmark. It is one of the most oppressive settings in horror, and Shindo grows almost his entire film out of it. Released in 1964, &lt;em&gt;Onibaba&lt;/em&gt; is a Japanese folk-horror fable set during the medieval civil wars, in which two starving women murder stray soldiers in the grass and sell their armour to survive, until a demon mask enters the story and turns their arrangement inside out. It is lurid, ferocious, and among the most physically sensual horror films ever made.&lt;/p&gt;</description><pubDate>Sun, 28 Dec 2025 09:00:00 +0000</pubDate></item></channel></rss>