Cloud

The latest film from Kiyoshi Kurosawa initially presents as a chilly satire of what the internet has made of us, particularly men. It follows Ryosuke, an online reseller who flips tat at inflated rates while working in a factory during the day. He's not an actively evil man; he’s barely actively anything – he’s just numb. His anonymity to the people he rips off means he can dwell in moral ambivalence and greed for the sake of it. He’s a spookily recognisable figure: that lad you know obsessed with making money but with no interests or life to spend it on; an everyman for a world of men who’ve grindsetted themselves into total moral spinelessness.

Cloud has a split structure. Its first half is a series of minor but accumulating transgressions, and the second shows their violent consequences, allowing Kurosawa to demonstrate he's a master of his very specific craft. His ability to imbue everyday life with quiet horror is on full display here. Maybe not since 2008's Tokyo Sonata has he managed to colour the mechanics of everyday human interaction with such affecting, creeping horror.

The film’s second half goes unexpectedly broader, becoming as much of an action film as is allowed in the world Kurosawa has created, featuring shootouts populated by incels, monologuing like they’ve seen in anime. Cloud is funny but, like in much of Kurosawa’s work, it’s a laughter from the bleakest of places, and only adds further to the film’s satirical bite. 

Released 25 Apr by Blue Finch; certificate 15