<rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title>Masaki Kobayashi - vo.rs</title><link>https://vo.rs/tags/masaki-kobayashi/</link><description>Latest from the Masaki Kobayashi 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>Sat, 03 Feb 2024 09:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://vo.rs/tags/masaki-kobayashi/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Kwaidan: Kobayashi's Ghost Stories as Painted Theatre</title><link>https://vo.rs/screen/kwaidan-kobayashis-ghost-stories-as-painted-theatre/</link><description>&lt;p&gt;There is a shot near the end of &lt;em&gt;Kwaidan&lt;/em&gt; — a sky the colour of a bruise, with a single vast eye painted into the clouds, watching a doomed samurai walk toward his own reflection. No fog machine made that sky. A crew painted it on a soundstage wall, hung it behind the actor, and lit it so that the whole world tilts into dread. Masaki Kobayashi&amp;rsquo;s 1964 anthology of four Japanese ghost stories is one of the most beautiful horror films ever made, and it earns that beauty by refusing, from the first frame, to pretend it is anything other than a stage.&lt;/p&gt;</description><pubDate>Sat, 03 Feb 2024 09:00:00 +0000</pubDate></item></channel></rss>