A hard film to explain, New Religion is one to be experienced. Every aspect of Keishi Kondo’s debut has been carefully constructed. Like pieces on a chess board, Kondo strategically moves the different elements into position, weaving a delicate trap of sensory overloads for all of those that experience it.
New Religion tells the sad story of Miyabi (Kaho Seto). The film opens with the tragic (and brutal) death of her young daughter before skipping forward in time. In the aftermath of her daughter’s death, Miyabi’s marriage ended. She now lives with her boyfriend, in the same building that her daughter died in. Her refusal to leave is a point of friction in her new relationship, and one that has allowed a distance to form. At night, Miyabi attends her job as a call girl. After one of her colleagues goes on a murder spree, Miyabi finds herself taking on their former client. His requests are strange, but simple. He wants to photograph her. What starts as some shots of her spine, spirals, and as the sessions start to take a peculiar hold on her, Miyabi loses all sense of space and time.
There is much more bubbling under the surface of Kondo’s script, with studies on grief, the power of memories, and the connection between the soul and photography, being just the very tip of the iceberg. The idea of a photograph stealing part of the subject is a superstition that has been around since the invention of the camera. Here, Kondo subtly works an angle on the concept with Miyabi visibly exhausted after each session. The frequency of their sessions means that Miyabi appears to persistently ebb away. This is just one of many ways in which this text can be interpreted, New Religion is a treasure trove of philosophical musings and meditations.
Kondo matches the complexity of script with a luscious juxtaposition of locations. Miyabi spends time either in her house or at her client Oka’s property. Visually the two are night and day. Miyabi’s flat is brightly lit, surrounded by the greenery provided by the balcony garden. Oka’s place is dark and clinical with the action constrained to the red tinted photography room. These reds are vibrant and the sequences of photography are beautiful, and slightly disturbing to watch unfold. The viewing is especially uncomfortable thanks to a strange sound that permeates from Oka’s building.
The trio of Zeze Wakamatsu, Akihiko Matsumoto, and Abul Mogard are responsible for the various aspects of music. The auditory soundscape of New Religion is a fundamental component. With dialogue kept restrained and to the point, New Religion would languish in silence were it not for the music and score. They work to manipulate and disorientate the viewer. A steady electronic drone is ever-present during Miyabi and Oka’s photography sessions. What starts out gentle soon escalates into being monstrously loud. It rattles your bones and chatters your teeth, the sound travelling directly through the audience almost to the point of being overwhelming. Mirroring Miyabi’s grief, the machine-like thrumming becomes so intensely oppressive that it’s a genuine relief to exit those sequences.
Keishi Kondo’s debut feature commands attention with its unflinching heavy and sombre atmosphere. A masterful work of moving art, New Religion is an experience not only for the eyes and ears, but for the soul and mind too. Intricately manipulated and expertly constructed, New Religion is an exceptional film at any stage of career. Kondo’s first film has captured lightning in a bottle.
New Religion
Summary
Electric and intoxicating elements combine to create an immersive sensory and emotional overload.
New Religion was reviewed at Arrow Video FrightFest 2022.
