Exit 8 attempts to extend that long, monotonous journey on a stifling, sardine packed tube to carry out the same day at your nine to five into a very real living nightmare. From producer turned director Genki Kawamura and based off indie video game “The Exit 8” the film essentially plays out like a sickening game of spot the difference in Japan’s underground tube stations. While the film struggles to maintain momentum despite its short 95 minute runtime it does at least attempt to poke holes in the salaryman culture and ask how decisions and anxiety truly shape a life.
We open on a POV of our protagonist known simply as The Lost Man (Kazunari Ninomiya) doomscrolling on his phone on the tube. A baby screams to his left and a man starts aggressively berating the mother to keep it quiet. No one says or does anything, they just barrel along glued to their devices or willfully dismissing any form of conflict. As he navigates the station he gets a call from an ex-girlfriend (Kotone Hanase), she’s pregnant and wondering if she should keep it. The lost man seems cagey and pathetic from the get go and while absent mindedly attempting some sort of satisfactory response he is thrust into a neverending corridor of LED lit repetition. In order to progress and escape through exit 8 he must spot any anomalies, continue round if everything is the same and turn back should anything be misplaced. Simple and creepy but perhaps more suited as an hour long Black Mirror episode than a feature.
The setup creates a playground for Kawamura to deploy a number of environment shifting, dynamic sequences that creates a unique sense of interactivity. As audiences get used to the tone and jarring repetition they will start to search for the anomalies themselves which provides a decent level of cinematic community participation. While not outright scary there is a general level of discomfort that is hard to shake utilised through distorted crying babies and the feeling of being stuck in a hospital waiting room. The film seeks discomfort as a surrogate for simplistic jump scare horror and prays on human’s natural anti-sensual sensitivities.
Yamato Kochi puts in an effective performance as The Walking Man, who repeatedly strides down the corridor like a deranged NPC. He has even been utilised as a real life advert for Neon’s American campaign by placing him in subway stations and terrifying people with that megawatt, deranged smile that often unsettles in the film. Because of the strange circumstances there are moments that each actor stuck in the loop plays it overly theatrical. There is an insistence on overwrought despair that feels more akin to a shonky videogame that isn’t in keeping with the excellent aesthetic.
When Exit 8 tries to be about something else is when it is at its least effective. As a dread laden box of tricks it gets in and does the job very nicely but when Kawamura tries to expand the lost man’s story outside of the passageway it loses focus. The intricacies of train sliding doors moments are nicely woven into some of the set pieces but when he decides to showcase dream flash forward / back logic it is not as profound as the film seeks it to be. There is something in here about decisive action forging positive change but not enough to really hit home. While visual markers are often satisfyingly tied up the meat of the film becomes somewhat of an endurance test that may have the impatient viewer reaching for the exit.
Verdict: 6 / 10
A fun gimmick utilised with stylish panache Exit 8 is one of the more successful videogame adaptations, although if its emotional richness you’re after maybe stick with The Last of Us.
