<rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title>Onryo - vo.rs</title><link>https://vo.rs/tags/onryo/</link><description>Latest from the Onryo 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>Thu, 28 Dec 2023 13:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://vo.rs/tags/onryo/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The J-Horror Wave and What the American Remakes Lost</title><link>https://vo.rs/screen/the-j-horror-wave-and-what-the-american-remakes-lost/</link><description>&lt;p&gt;For a few years around the turn of the millennium, the most frightening films in the world were coming out of Japan, and they were frightening in a way Western horror had almost forgotten. There were no killers to outrun, no rules to exploit, no third-act confrontation where the monster could be burned or shot or reasoned with. There were long, still shots of empty rooms. There were figures who moved wrong, or did not move at all. There was a ghost you could not fight, only postpone, and a dread that arrived with a slow, patient certainty that the thing in the frame had all the time in the world. Hollywood noticed, bought the lot, and remade nearly every one, and in doing so it demonstrated, film by film, precisely what it did not understand.&lt;/p&gt;</description><pubDate>Thu, 28 Dec 2023 13:00:00 +0000</pubDate></item></channel></rss>