Editorials
Sanrio’s 1978 Anime Film ‘Ringing Bell’ Is Nightmare Fuel for All Ages [Horrors Elsewhere]
It might be surprising to learn the company behind Hello Kitty once branched out into dramatic filmmaking. And early into this short-lived venture, Sanrio produced one of its most notable films to date. Masami Hata’s 1978 adaptation of Takashi Yanase’s Ringing Bell (Chirin no suzu) found its way to the U.S. in the early ‘80s thanks to RCA/Columbia Pictures. The 47-minute film looks to be a garden-variety cartoon about a lamb, based on the promotional art. However, viewers of this animated obscurity can all agree looks are deceiving.
Ringing Bell starts off in an idyllic, mountainside grassland somewhere in America. As winter comes to an end, a local herd of ewes gives birth to and raises the next generation. This includes Chirin, who is voiced by Minori Matsushima in the Japanese version, and Barbara Goodson in the English dub. Because of Chirin’s habit of wandering off to unsafe parts of the pasture, he wears a bell around his neck. This way his anxious mother (Taeko Nakanishi, Alexandra Kenworthy) can always find him.
Ringing Bell’s cheery demeanor and picturesque scenery fade when the sun goes down, and the sheep’s most feared predator, the notorious wolf Woe (Seizō Katō, Bill Capizzi), pounces on the herd. The merciless hunter quickly finds a meal, but he takes one more life before disappearing into the night. Unharmed and unaware, Chirin crawls out from beneath his mother, who shielded him during the attack. He slowly comes to realize what happened after Woe set his eyes on him. Distraught and furious, Chirin then takes off in search of his mother’s killer.
Chirin decides the only way to defeat Woe is to become his student. The wolf brushes Chirin aside until he witnesses something so bizarre in a world where every action is predetermined. Chirin tries to save a nest of bird eggs from a snake after the mother is killed, but his efforts are in vain. Woe then shares a cold hard lesson with Chirin: some must die for others to live. He proceeds to ask the lamb why he wants to be like him in the first place. Chirin says he does not want to be helpless like the other sheep who stay in a place knowing very well they will be fodder at some point. The wolf is finally convinced to take Chirin under his wing.
Characters becoming the thing they hate is a common idea in storytelling. Chirin is indeed active in his own undertaking, but like so many others in a similar position, he does not consider the full weight of his actions. Nevertheless, Chirin trains day and night with Woe in hopes of achieving power and strength. His body is made tougher to match his new temperament. Chirin’s change is astounding given the adorable, carefree lamb seen earlier. What he ultimately loses in the process, though, is something he may never get back.
The wolf has also put himself in a precarious situation; every day he edges closer to death as he teaches Chirin his ways. Surely he could have avoided everything to come had he just devoured the lamb like nature dictates. An easy explanation for why the wolf instead mentors Chirin is the fact that animals live to further their species; he is acting on a biological desire. There are no other wolves in these parts, after all. Something else to ponder is Woe’s morbid curiosity. Being the apex predator here, a creature such as himself has little if nothing to be afraid of. He takes down bears twice his size with ease, and prey is more than plentiful. Life for the wolf is as simple as it is predictable. So the strange proposal Chirin sets forth would seem intriguing if Woe wanted to shake things up and feel challenged.
The day comes when Chirin achieves his ambition of being as powerful as the wolf, if not more so. His sharp horns have fully come in, and his hooves are as hard as rocks. The demonic ram has only one last test to complete his transformation; he has to destroy his birthplace. Chirin unhesitatingly slaughters a pack of guard dogs before he descends on a herd of helpless sheep much like the one he came from. He is prepared to kill them all until the sight of a lamb crying out for its mother brings him to his senses.
Animation has always acknowledged death in some form or another. Vintage Looney Tunes shows dying is only a temporary setback, seeing as characters regularly walk away unscathed after falling off a cliff, coming in contact with explosives, or succumbing to the weight of a comically large rock. Meanwhile, the more permanent depictions were found in cinema. From classic Disney to various Don Bluth pictures, Western animators of yesteryear broached death, yes, but they often applied an almost mystical gloss to the event. There was also the assumption that things would improve once the shock and pain wore off.
On the other hand, there is no perceivable silver lining to death in Ringing Bell. Chirin experiences loss at various times in the film. Although this story shares elements with Disney’s Bambi, it goes the other way in terms of death. Bambi recovered in a healthy way, whereas Chirin skipped the mourning period altogether in a bid to avoid the unavoidable. He thought becoming a predator like Woe would save him, but his vengeance quest only left him more alone. Chirin spent so much time fighting the concept of death he never took the time to live his life.
Ringing Bell is a brutal watch at any age, especially today when cultural attitudes and standards regarding children’s media have shifted. The nightmarish imagery and psychological horror are startling. This being a story for kids, though, there is presumably a lesson to be learned. Is this a reminder to maintain one’s social station? Or is it a warning about seeking vengeance? Maybe this is another “be careful what you wish for” narrative. The goal here is not too clear, and adults will have a hard time breaking everything down for younger viewers. As bleak as the conclusion is, the open-endedness is what stings the most in an otherwise daring, darkly beautiful, and unique film.
Horrors Elsewhere is a recurring column that spotlights a variety of movies from all around the globe, particularly those not from the United States. Fears may not be universal, but one thing is for sure — a scream is understood, always and everywhere.
Comics
‘Spider-Noir’ Comic Changes Explained: How the TV Series Reinvents Marvel’s Darkest Spider-Man
A little while back, I wrote an article chronicling the Hellraiser franchise’s affinity for Film Noir and touched on how that genre has, historically, always been connected to horror.
This connection can be observed in everything from the cannibalistic serial killers of Frank Miller’s Sin City to the disturbing criminal plots fueling neo-noir thrillers like Stuart Gordon’s underrated King of the Ants. That’s why it came as no surprise when I finally sat down to watch all eight episodes of Prime Video’s recently released Spider-Noir series and was confronted with plenty of classic horror tropes.
What did come as a surprise, however, was how showrunners Oren Uziel and Steve Lightfoot approached these horror elements when compared to the 2009 comic book that the show is based on. From the heavily altered rogue’s gallery to an equally terrifying yet completely different origin story for Nicolas Cage’s take on the webslinger, there are plenty of changes here that I feel might be of interest to genre fans.
With that in mind, I’d like to invite readers to take a closer look at all the adjustments that Spider-Noir made to the story in order to bring this incarnation of Spider-Man to life in all of its monochromatic glory (unless you watched the True-Hue color version of the show, in which case you’ll be treated to a surprisingly comic-booky palette that you don’t usually see on television).
The Dark Origins of Marvel’s Spider-Man Noir
Our first order of business should be to examine the origins of the Noir comics themselves. Originally published as part of the Marvel Noir alternate universe that reimagined several characters as hard-boiled crime-fighters, Spider-Man Noir became the most successful book in the entire run. This highly politicized story about Peter Parker coming to terms with the capitalist evils of the Great Depression seemed to have struck a nerve with audiences looking for a darker take on the wall-crawler, which is likely why we’d soon see several sequel stories as well as a video game adaptation of the character in 2010’s underrated Spider-Man: Shattered Dimensions.
Of course, it wasn’t just Spider-Man’s darker disposition that made this version of the character a hit, as 1930s New York City was depicted as being much more hostile than what we generally see in the standard Marvel Universe. From Peter’s powers coming from an Eldritch Spider God that spawns man-eating arachnids to Vulture being an ex-Freak-Show Gimp with a taste for human flesh, you can definitely understand why this Web-Head isn’t pulling his punches.
Unfortunately, this alternate universe was a little too popular for its own good, with each subsequent sequel/adaptation further diluting the political anger and classic horror influences that fueled the original comic-book run in order to appeal to a wider audience. Spider-Man Noir was nearly unrecognizable once we got to the Spider-Verse crossover that turned the character into a household name, though this would at least lead to an interesting adaptation in 2018.
The Classic Horror Influences Hidden Throughout Spider-Noir
Jack Huston as Sandman in ‘Spider-Noir’
When Phil Lord and Chris Miller finally translated Spider-Man Noir to the big screen, with Nicolas Cage bringing the character to life in an unexpected case of pitch-perfect casting, he was still mostly relegated to comic relief as his nazi-punching antics and over-the-top edginess were played for laughs. However, while this version of the character had little to do with the comics that spawned him, Spider-Noir’s newfound popularity eventually resulted in the announcement of a darker live-action spin-off – a spin-off that I was cautiously optimistic about.
While the showrunners ultimately decided to go in a completely different direction than the 2009 comic, the new team of writers appeared to understand Noir as a genre in ways that even the folks at Marvel Noir couldn’t quite grasp. That’s likely why 2026’s Spider-Noir boasts plenty of horror elements, just not in ways we’ve seen them before.
The series is obviously borrowing tropes and aesthetics from period-accurate monster movies, with Universal’s 1930s output being a particularly big influence. From the re-imagining of Sandman and Tombstone as tragic figures to The Spider even being operated on by a mad scientist with hilariously antiquated techniques, this bizarre collection of super-powered freaks could have easily shown up in a classic creature feature.
The scares aren’t all retro, however, as the showrunners also injected plenty of body-horror into the mix during their attempt at unifying the origin stories for all these larger-than-life characters. Hell, the Spider himself is now revealed to have gained his powers after being bitten by a half-mutated Man-Spider during World War I, and the aforementioned mad scientist keeps a disturbing collection of failed experiments in her basement, proving that not all of her patients were lucky enough to simply gain superpowers after being experimented on.
Nicolas Cage Reinvents Spider-Man Noir for Television
Ben Reilly/Spiderman (Nicolas Cage) in SPIDER-NOIR
Photo: Aaron Epstein/Prime
© Amazon Content Services LLC
I also really appreciate how Cage insists on depicting Ben Reilly as an arachnid trapped inside of a human body, with his uncanny physical performance and classic Hollywood impressions keeping your eyes glued to the screen while also providing some of the show’s funniest moments.
I still think it’s a shame that the character is no longer politically motivated, and I miss the detail about Uncle Ben having been cannibalized by Vulture after his social activism ruffled too many feathers, but at least this time our protagonist actually feels like someone who could have been written by Raymond Chandler if he were a fan of Superheroes.
In fact, the writers nailed the snappy back-and-forth that Noir authors like Dashiel Hammett used to refer to as the “riposte”, and it’s fun to see supervillains being depicted as horrific movie monsters instead of specialized henchmen – with The Spider feeling like just as much of a Freak Show attraction as the rest of them. Purists might be put off by the lack of reverence for the source material, but I think that’s a small price to pay when even the show’s most clichéd moments intentionally harken back to the golden age of Hollywood.
That’s why I’d argue that Amazon’s Spider-Noir isn’t really an adaptation, but rather an equally valid take on the same premise that inspired Marvel back in 2009. And in a world filled with recycled storylines that only serve to advertise future releases, I’d rather have two completely different visions of the same character than a straight-up retelling of the same handful of ideas.
At the end of the day, there’s enough space inside this comic fan’s heart for both man-eating Vultures and a Cronenberg-inspired Man-Spider. And if you’re also a fan of nostalgic creature features with comic book flair, I’d highly recommend this street-level superhero story with a spooky twist.
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