Confessions
(Original title: Kokuhaku) | 2010 | 1h 46m
Genre:
Drama / Thriller / Psychological Thriller | Country: Japan
Director:
Tetsuya Nakashima | Writers: Kanae Minato, Tetsuya Nakashima
Cast:
Takako Matsu, Yoshino Kimura, Masaki Okada
IMDB:
7.7
My
Rate: 9/10
After discovering that two of her students were responsible for her daughter’s death, Yuko takes revenge in the calmest and most terrifying way: through manipulation that makes the offenders drown in their own darkness.
Warning:
Contains scenes of violence, bullying, self-harm, and harsh language.
Synopsis:
Her
daughter’s death fills Yuko with anger, especially after learning that the
perpetrators won’t be punished just because they are underage. Instead of
letting her rage explode and take over, Yuko chooses a calm way to carry out
her revenge. After her confession about having put the blood of an AIDS patient
into the drinks of the two students responsible, Yuko decides to quit the
school and disappear.
Shuya
and Naoki seem to receive their punishment. Naoki shuts himself inside his home
to the point his mother becomes desperate, while Shuya is ostracized and
bullied by the entire class. Even the attention from his new teacher, instead
of saving him, only makes his suffering worse.
The
student who claims to be the “purest” turns out to be just as cruel. They act
as if they’re giving punishment. The pressure coming from outside and inside
makes the darkest sides of Shuya and Naoki finally rise to the surface—just as
Yuko had imagined from the start.
But
in the end, does Yuko’s revenge really bring justice? Or does it open an even
darker abyss?
Review:
One
of the biggest loopholes in the laws of many countries is how underage
offenders often escape proper punishment. As if they are free to commit crimes
because they know they won’t receive the punishment they deserve. It’s this
loophole that becomes the foundation for Confessions, an adaptation of Kanae
Minato’s novel that portrays revenge in a quiet, calculated, and piercing way.
Yuko’s
monologue to her students becomes a calm opening, but it feels like an attack
that slowly creeps up into your chest. Little by little, Yuko starts making
confession after confession about her daughter’s death, the sadness she feels,
and the revenge she might carry out. Until the revelation of the perpetrators,
which becomes an interesting way of introducing the characters. The
psychological tension is built without needing raised voices—only with words
left hanging.
The
film’s main conflict doesn’t just come from external pressure, but from the
internal battles of each character. Through alternating points of view, the
audience is invited into their mindsets, trying to understand the reasons
behind their unforgivable actions. However, the deeper we go, the more obvious
it becomes that the desire to sympathize only opens up the darkest sides of
humans trying to justify themselves.
Bullying
and isolation are depicted as forms of fake moral punishment. Those who feel
the “purest” are actually no better than the ones they punish. The film shows
how guilt, frustration, and collective fear turn into cruelty legitimized by
the group. And its effects spread not only to the perpetrators, but also to the
families and the entire environment around them.
The
resolution and the ending are presented quite neatly. Yuko’s manipulation never
feels excessive; the less visible it is, the more terrifying it becomes. Her
presence disappearing throughout most of the story and then reappearing at the
end makes her feel like a shadow constantly watching. The final twist isn’t
just a surprise—it’s the closing of a revenge circle planned from the very
beginning.
The
use of multiple points of view is another strength of this film. The title
transitions of each chapter feel effective and unique, helping arrange the
pieces that eventually connect beautifully yet darkly. The dark color palette,
sharp light contrasts, and the use of certain accent colors add to the gloom
that clings to each character.
The
acting and expressions from the cast—most of whom are still underage—are truly
stunning. Full of totality in scenes and dialogues that are quite dark. It
definitely isn’t easy for child actors to pull off, without dismissing the
psychological effects they might feel after portraying such roles. There’s an
intensity that doesn’t feel forced, as if they absorbed the darkness of each
character.
This
film is reminiscent of The World of Kanako: not in premise, but in
atmosphere—the world of broken teenagers, full of emptiness, and starving for
attention. Confessions stands alongside it as a work that not only presents
crime and revenge, but also confession: about untreated wounds, about trauma
buried for too long, and about personal truths that can sometimes be scarier
than the crime itself.
Memorable Scene:
This
is a simple but striking scene. Shuya runs to the bathroom covering his mouth,
not because of fear, but because of happiness. The milk contaminated with the
blood of an AIDS patient that he drank seems like a small glimmer of hope in
his desperation to get his mother’s attention. Joy born from the threat of
death becomes the darkest point that reveals his soul.
In
life, someone will do anything to get the attention of the person who matters
most to them. It can even become a dangerous obsession. Not only through good
ways, but even through the worst ways possible. All of that is done for one
purpose: to get the attention they long for.
Memorable Dialogue:
“Is there someone you want to kill?”
Ending:
Twist
Ending
Recommendation:
Must
Watch
(Aluna)
 – A Dark Room Behind a Confession){kind=link}
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