Review: THE BOOTH is a fine little thriller which works very well precisely because it knows what it is, what it wants and how to get there most efficiently. Not burdened by inappropriate ambition, it accepts its limitations and embraces them, turning them into qualities. It IS low budget, but its story does not require any more money than seen on the screen. It has a small number of characters, but they are all necessary parts of the story's mechanism, and are used well. It IS limited to one location – the radio station- but increasing claustrophobia is exactly the effect this plot needs, and that's what it ultimately achieves. It has few special effects, of a very simple variety, and it does not need anything more complex. It IS short, but 74 minutes is just the right measure for the film to do what it has set out to do without overstaying its welcome. Unlike PRAY (recently reviewed title from Tartan's 'New Generation Thriller'), which at the similar budget and running time looked shoddy and seemed padded to its length, THE BOOTH is an honest, economical, taut excursion into THE TWILIGHT ZONE territory.

At its center beats the heart that is Sogo (Ryuta Sato): the whole film 'hangs' (pun intended!) on his performance, and boy, does it hang well! Sato has a difficult job of being in almost every shot of the movie, with lots of action, reaction and dialogue. To make it harder, THE BOOTH takes place during one single night – during one single radio show – and the real-time approach demands of him to plausibly and consistently portray the progression from a cheerful, conceited, confident stud all the way to a confused, whimpering, pants-pissing crybaby. And most difficult of all – he has to 'sell' an unpleasant character: he has to make you care for a guy who, as the film goes on, seems more and more obnoxious. Sato is to be commended for excelling in all three tasks: he has a movie-carrying presence, he manages to subtly portray a gradual decay of his character, and he succeeds in remaining likable (or at least pitiful) until the very end. Any man (or woman, for that matter) will recognize their own faults and small (or not so small) defects in Sato, and even when the darkest secrets are revealed, he is never a villain. You'll see how close you may be to his situation, and it's thanks to Sato's well-done job.

The first half of THE BOOTH may seem a bit too cheerful for a film set in a 'creepy and dilapidated booth', but it wisely opts for realism instead of plunging into silly gothic trappings, like the over-stylized THE HEIRLOOM (recently reviewed). No, there is no paint peeling off these walls; no water dripping; no rats or bugs or creepy-crawlies; no candle-light here. If there is a thunderstorm outside, we're soundproof in this booth and don't know about it. Which is good. The director wisely abandons cheap theatrics, jump scares, false alarms and other paraphernalia of new Asian horrors. He trusts his material enough to let it unfold gradually, subtly, creepily, and thus trusts and respects his audience as well.

The supernatural hints are played out not as big money-shots, derivative of RINGU or JUON: his understatement, including that clever last shot, works wonders for those with enough patience and intelligence left after a diet of the movie equivalents of cheezeburgers that clog the cinemas and DVDs these days. Like the vintage TWILIGHT ZONE episodes, THE BOOTH is essentially a morality tale, and it works as one unobtrusively. There is a valuable subtext in the film, dealing with the (Japanese, and wider) attitudes toward love, dating, and inter-human relationships in general, but you're not hammered over your head with any 'message' or 'moral'. They are incorporated into the plot, and are indispensable to it.

Frankly, the plot for THE BOOTH sounds like yet another silly 'high-concept' in the unending series of 'haunted tapes/TVs/cellphones/cameras/shoes/whatevers'. But it is more than a story about a haunted radio booth – or less, depending on your expectations. It is more because is goes for the 'less is more' option. But it IS less if you expect another SHUTTER-like scarefest of derivative set-pieces. The only slight disappointment I felt after this film was that for such a premise, it did not fully exploit the aural potentials of its concept. I expected THE BOOTH to emit complex and scary sounds every five or ten minutes, but no: Nakamura decided to make a film and not a carnival 'house of horrors' soundscape. That is why the scary sounds are few and far between and always meaningfully placed in the story. If that's the way you like it – go for it!