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Daiei Gothic Vol. 2: The Haunted Castle (1969) Blu-ray Review


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Radiance Films

Blu-ray Release: October 14, 2025 (as part of Daiei Gothic Vol. 2)

Video: 2.35:1/1080p/Color

Audio: Japanese LPCM 1.0 Mono

Subtitles: English

Run Time: 113:51

Director: Tokuzô Tanaka 


Note: This disc is currently only available as part of Radiance’s Daiei Gothic Volume 2 Blu-ray collection, which also includes The Demon of Mount Oe (1960) and The Ghost of Kasane Swamp (1970). I am also using the same intro paragraphs for all of my Daiei Gothic reviews (volumes 1 & 2) and descriptions of Tokuzô Tanaka’s work and career will be shared between reviews.


Japanese ghost stories – or kaidan (sometimes translated as kwaidan) – are rooted in an ancient pantheon of conventions, stock characters, and narrative tropes. These established, often unaltered stories date back way before motion picture cameras to the Heian period (794–1185) and records of public exhibitions date back to the Noh and Kyogen theater of the 1300s, and Bunraku puppetry and the kabuki theater of the 1600s. Japanese horror filmmaking dates back to the silent era, though many early features have been lost to time. During the Second Sino-Japanese War and WWII, the authoritative government labeled genre movies frivolous, nearly halting the production of kaidan pictures. After the war, occupying US forces discouraged period dramas, known as jidaigeki, assuming that they would cultivate national pride and encourage dissent. Since the majority of the established ghost stories took place in an older historical era, horror continued to be largely ignored.


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Kaidan films finally had their renaissance during the 1950s, as US political authority waned and the region’s motion picture output was redefined by a mix of Edo era ideals and western cultural influences. This surge in horror produced several highly acclaimed films that were popular even outside of Japan, including Masaki Kobayashi’s Academy Award-nominated Kwaidan (1964) and Kaneto Shindo’s Onibaba (1964) and Kuroneko (1968). While Toho stole much of the glory during the ‘60s, Daiei Studios got in on the boom early with strong showings from Kenji Mizoguchi’s Ugetsu (Japanese: Ugetsu Monogatari, 1953) and Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon (1950), which features a ghost among the many witnesses to a central crime.



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The Haunted Castle (Japanese: Hiroku kaibyô-den, 1969)


A blind monk is killed in a cowardly manner by a samurai lord. When his sister is ordered to become the lord's concubine, she commits suicide and transfers her grudge to their black cat, who assumes the human form of one of the lord's ladies-in-waiting and begins to wreak havoc around the castle court. The lord's Machiavellian right-hand man (Rokko Toura) and a young swordsman (Kojiro Hongo) combine forces to solve the mystery and stop the supernatural menace. (From Radiance’s official synopsis)




The Haunted Castle is the third Tokuzô Tanaka film included in Radiance’s two piece Daiei Gothic collection, following The Demon of Mount Oe (Japanese: Ōeyama Shuten Dōji, 1960 and The Snow Woman (Japanese: Kaidan yukijorô, 1968). In fact, I believe if you own both sets you have a nearly complete Tanaka horror/kaidan collection (there are earlier films that I haven’t seen that might fit). Comparing these three films directly reveals obvious similarities and curious differences. 


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The Demon of Mount Oe is, ultimately, a fantasy-adventure-cum-historical-drama with a horror twist. It’s a colorful example of the genre’s prestige growth at the beginning of the ‘60s. The Snow Woman, on the other hand, is a melancholic version of a classic tale that Kobayashi’s Kwaidan had adapted only four years prior. It’s a chilly example of Daiei’s interest in retelling recently adapted folk stories (more on that in my review of Kimiyoshi Yasuda’s Ghost of Kasane Swamp). The Haunted Castle is the most fully committed horror film of the bunch. It’s bloodthirsty, nerve-rattling, and brimming with scary, surrealistic imagery.


Tanaka’s work is often defined by patience and formalism. He thrives when contrasting the drama of long silences and empty spaces with the thrill of chaotic action. The Haunted Castle funnels his skill with action into lively horror set-pieces, but what really sells the scares this time is the steady tonal perversion of that trademark formalism. Here, Tanaka matches the unhinged sensibilities of Nobuo Nakagawa and other genre stewards that followed his lead – madmen, like Teruo Ishii, Nobuhiko Ôbayashi, and Michio Yamamoto – but in a stoic, precision fashion that somehow makes it more frightening. The camera work and lighting is exquisite, even when the special effects budget isn’t quite up to task.


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According to Mari Asato’s interview on this disc’s extras, Haunted Castle is loosely based on the Edo-period story Nabeshima Bakeneko Disturbance, though its origins seem to be part of the broader folklore subgenre of the kaibyō eiga or ‘ghost cat’ tales. According to legend, the bakeneko was a shapeshifting feline spirit that could take human form and ghost cat movies dealt almost exclusively with bakeneko women who were seeking vengeance from beyond the grave. On film, it dates back to (at least) to Shigeru Kito’s Arima neko (aka: The Ghost Cat of Arima Palace, 1937) and included a series of ‘50s movies starring actress Takako Irie, though the most famous example is probably Kaneto Shindo’s Kuroneko (1968).


In this case, the bakeneko is a feline-like ghost capable of demonic possession, but she also chomps on necks, like a European vampire. And she’s joined by another stalwart stock kaidan character – a vengeful ghost who haunts the water well containing their body. Sometimes traced back to the folk tale Banchō Sarayashiki (written sometime in the 18th century), about a servant murdered for rejecting a samurai (very similar to Kuroneko), the well-based ghost is a popular one that remains relevant thanks to modern films, especially Hideo Nakata’s Ringu (1998) and Dark Water (2002).


Bibliography:

  • Introduction to Japanese Horror Film by Colette Balmain (Edinburgh University Press, 2008)


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Video

Haunted Castle was released on Japanese DVD, though without English subtitles. All of the English-friendly versions appear to be fan-subbed variations of that disc, making Radiance’s new Blu-ray – released as part of their Daiei Gothic Vol. 2 collection – the film’s official North American home video debut. All three movies in Daiei Gothic Vol. 2 were reportedly scanned in 4K at Imagica laboratories in Japan, cleaned up by Radiance themselves, and color graded at DaVinci Resolve. The 2.35:1, 1080p transfer is similar to other Radiance Daiei discs, including a nice, film-like texture and delicate fine details. Print damage artifacts are minor and the overall dynamic range is actually an upgrade over similar releases. Cinematographer Hiroshi Imai’s dark and moody photography requires extra deep shadows and clear highlights, and the transfer delivers on both.


Audio

The Haunted Castle is presented in its original Japanese mono and uncompressed 1.0 LPCM. Like a lot of similar films from the period, the single channel mix emphasizes dialogue over effects and there’s very little in terms of distortion or hiss. That said, there are lively moments, such as those where incidental noises are amped-up, turned sharp and loud to set a haunting mood or emphasize scares. Chumei Watanabe’s score takes a traditional spooky route with eerie strings, chilly vocals, and what sounds like Moog synths doing their best impressions of a theremin. 


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Extras

  • Mari Asato on The Haunted Castle (17:08, HD) – The director of Ju-On: Black Ghost (2009) and other post-millennial horror films discusses The Haunted Castle, Tanaka’s career (I didn’t realize his first film, Bake neko goyôda [1958], was also a ghost cat movie, but I suppose that it’s right there in the title), and the origins of the ghost cat tradition in Japanese horror.

  • The Strange Case of Ikuko Mori (5:45, HD) – Historical Dictionary of Japanese Cinema (Historical Dictionaries of Literature and the Arts; Scarecrow Press, 2011) author Tom Mes briefly explores the tragic life and career of actress Ikuko Mori.

  • Theatrical trailer


The images on this page are taken from the BDs and sized for the page. Larger versions can be viewed by clicking the images. Note that there will be some JPG compression.

 
 
 

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