So, I’m usually a huge fan of dialog. That’s normally my jam. I love some good wordplay. However, in the case of Exit 8, the minimalism of the dialog worked in my favor given my inability to understand Japanese. And when there are subtitles, I find my focus split between paying attention and reading. However, fortunately, Exit 8 Director Genki Kawamura intentionally constructed the film with a sparse script to replicate the isolation and quiet focus of the original video game. That’s right, it is based on a video game, and based on my research it is a pretty good likeness of the game in terms of story mechanics, visual and environmental continuity, as well as overlapping anomalies and non-playable characters (a.k.a NPCs). Inspired by the concept of liminal spaces such as the fictional Backrooms 4chain imageboard thread, the game, as well as the movie, is set in a passageway of the Japanese metro. Within this setting, the main character, an unnamed man (dubbed “The Lost Man”) is caught in a looping subway corridor and must spot possible anomalies in each loop to escape.
The rules of the quest are simple but carry hefty consequences: do not overlook anything out of the ordinary. If you discover an anomaly, turn back immediately. If you don’t, keep going. You succeed when you reach and depart from Exit 8. However, even a single oversight will send him back to the beginning. And while there is nothing about this premise inherently suggests that this is a horror, it most certainly is one, albeit perhaps not in the traditional sense. Exit 8 doesn’t rely on traditional antagonists like a slasher or monster, instead opting for a spatial, psychological, and repetitive threat. While that may not be traditional, it is most certainly effective. How many times can you repeat the same action before going insane? There are folks who can’t stand to be asked the same question three times; something like this would be their own personal nightmare.
When a film is relying on sparse dialog, it requires a lead that conveys a wide range of emotion without words. Kazunari Ninomiya, who played “The Lost Man”, had almost no lines throughout the film’s 95-minute runtime. As a result, his performance relied on physical acting, facial expressions, and hyperventilating breathing to convey panic. This is first showcased in the first reset. After successfully navigating several correct corridors, the protagonist passed under a sign expecting to see a higher number, only to find a bold, glowing “0.” As the camera locked onto Ninomiya’s face, his breathing immediately breaks into shallow, rapid gasps as he realized he was back at square one with no idea what anomaly he missed. This is a recurring theme of the film, successfully building the tension with every reset.
Speaking of anomalies, several of the video game’s memorable, reality-bending anomalies — such as posters that subtly alter their images or eyes that track the character’s movement — appeared in the film. This combined with the inclusion of the game’s labyrinth of NPC-esque commuters, to include the stone-faced, briefcase-carrying businessman who repeatedly walked down the hallway, established the environmental continuity. Naturally, I only got many of these references after watching the film and doing my independent research, but it still made for an intriguing discovery.
While I would rate this as a faithful adaptation, the film does deviate in some regards, particularly when it comes to character development. In the game, the main character is more of a faceless avatar, whereas in the film, the character is provided with some measure of a backstory. The film provides the lead with an existential crisis to contend with, leading to a confrontation of his personal demons and overcoming them on the pathway to personal growth. Ironically, this growth came via the few speaking parts of the film. Even so, I enjoyed this inclusion because it added depth to the role and gave him more to fight for than just his escape. In a sense, it allowed him to escape his own personal prison along with psychological one.
Another deviation was the film’s midpoint twist, which came in the form of an unexpected anomaly, which was also a welcom deviation in my opinion, because it’s what spurred the character’s growth as he is forced to confront physical manifestations of the personal problems, guilt, and responsibilities he has spent his life running away from or pretending didn’t exist. This component was my favorite part, as I am a sucker for character growth.
I had my reservations going in, but I found Exit 8 to be a unique and enjoyable cinematic experience. And while I haven’t played the game, I feel confident when I say that it is a faithful adaptation that does its source material justice. I recommend it for those who are fans of psychological thrillers, as well as horror fans. It doesn’t follow the traditional blueprint, but trail-blazes its own unique experience.
