Shiki Volume 2

‘Who is safe when the urge to kill in order to survive blurs the line between man and monster?’

As the mysterious ‘epidemic’ claims more and more lives in the secluded village of Sotoba, local doctor Toshio Ozaki (Toru Ohkawa/David Wald) realizes that they are not afflicted by an unknown virus but something far more sinister. And when his wife Kyoko falls ‘ill,’ he takes the extraordinary step of caring for her himself and not admitting anyone else from the clinic to her room. His worst suspicions are correct; she has fallen victim to a vampiric attack. He watches over her corpse, waiting to see whether she will rise up or fall into decay – and when she awakens, he proceeds to carry out a series of horrifying experiments to see if there is any means of destroying the shiki (corpse demons) that are taking over the village. Once convinced that he has gained the necessary knowledge, he then has the impossible task of convincing the other villagers – and, just at that moment, the glamorous and flirtatious Chizuru Kirishiki (Ai Orikasa/Lydia Mackay) unknowingly plays into his hands. He persuades her to accompany him to the local festival – which results in the tables being turned on the shiki, a situation that leads to a bloody war of retribution. And because we have come to know both the shiki and the bereaved survivors, Fuyumi Ono’s story constantly challenges us, making us ask, as the villagers set out to rid the village of this plague, ‘Who are the real monsters here?’

To complicate matters, the main viewpoint character, high school student Natsuno Yūki (Kouki Uchiyama/Jerry Jewel) who sacrificed himself to try to help his friend Toru, is now a jinrou, like the malevolent Tatsumi. (Jinrou is a term usually used for werewolf, but here used to mean a more advanced form of shiki that can tolerate sunlight.) Will Tatsumi force him to act like a jinrou and protect Sunako – or is he strong-minded enough to pursue his own agenda?

One of the problems with the vampire myth – as, I think, has been pointed out by Stephen King – is that, sooner or later, a growing colony of vampires will run out of live prey, having bitten every living creature in the vicinity. Most bloodsucking stories don’t deal with such an eventuality – and Shiki is no exception, although there are moments when it seems as if there will be no one left unbitten. Nevertheless, Fuyumi Ono (Ghost Hunt) spins a horribly convincing tale in the novels on which the anime series is based. Like traditional vampires, the shiki cannot tolerate crucifixes or daylight (it sears their flesh) but when staked through the heart, they don’t disappear into a neat little cloud of dust, they die writhing in agony, with blood spurting in copious amounts from their bodies.

Where Shiki stands out from so many recent vampire anime (and films) is in its refusal to treat the shiki themselves, the okiagari, those who ‘rise up,’ as glamorous. Their leader, Sunako Kirishiki, is trapped in the body of a young girl and dresses in typical gothic lolita style, but her struggle to survive long beyond her own time shows in the dark, decaying pits of her eyes. These vampires are definitely not sparkly.

Equally impressive – and chilling – is the stark depiction of the change in the surviving villagers as they determine to rid themselves of the Shiki. This is all the more convincingly conveyed because of the documentary-like style in which the tale of the village’s descent into madness and bloodlust is depicted with the date and day of the week relentlessly flashing up on the screen as the next incident unfolds and the tally of deaths increases. Until quite late on in the series, this effect, combined with flashing up the name and profession of each character portrayed, cleverly manages to subliminally convince the viewer that – in spite of the highly stylised and idiosyncratic character designs – we just might be watching a documentary. And that disquieting sense, combined with the relentless grimness with which the violent retribution the villagers mete out, creates a powerfully unsettling experience.

The young priest Seishin’s agonising over his deep moral and religious dilemmas sheds another disquieting light on the unfolding tragedy. Drawn to Sunako’s plight, he tries to explore her predicament in the novel that he’s writing. Through his story, he puts forward the possibility that when a shiki kills to survive, it’s not really a crime. The relationship between Seishin (who by allying himself with her is betraying his friends and parishioners) and the ancient ‘child’ Sunako (who is spellbound by his work in progress) is one of the most fascinating aspects of Shiki. But as the vengeful villagers storm the Kirishiki residence, determined to purge their community of all the undead, their friendship seems doomed. There are no happy endings here – and the viewer is left at the end with the unsettling feeling that soon it is all going to start again, in another conveniently remote village.

Ah, those character designs. Yes, they are truly bizarre, especially the pointy chins and exuberantly curlicued hairstyles (and beards!) – but they are taken from the original manga by and are very faithful to mangaka Ryu Fujisaki’s drawings. After my initial surprise, I found that the story and characterization were so strong that I stopped noticing sweet-natured Nurse Ritsuko’s zigzagging tendrils of turquoise hair.

Amongst the large cast of voice actors in both Japanese and US dub versions, it’s worth mentioning that J. Michael Tatum does a great job as Sunako’s ‘father’ Seishiro Kirishiki, equalling his starry Japanese counterpart in the original: Gackt.

The score – by Yasuhara Takanashi (Fairy Tail, Naruto Shippuuden) – is moodily atmospheric, with a wistfully poignant recurring theme that you’ll find haunting you long after you’ve finished watching. The breathy sound of a little girl singing (so beloved by composers writing for gothic horror) is also used to good – and genuinely creepy – effect here. The new Opening is “Calendula Requiem” by kanon X kanon and the new Closing song is “Gekka Reijin (Beauty Under the Moon)” by Buck-Tick; both Kanon and Buck-Tick have provided songs for other vampire anime series: Trinity Blood and Vampire Knight.

Extras comprise the usual textless Opening and Closing and interesting commentaries on Episodes 18 and 22 which are less flippant and more thoughtful than the usual light-hearted banter between voice actors and directors.

In Summary
Not for the faint-hearted or weak of stomach, Shiki makes grim watching as the story moves powerfully towards its logical – and bloody – conclusion. It’s well worth your time, though, if you enjoy a gripping and convincing horror tale.