The Montana Grizzlies mascot is a symbol of pride and strength for the University of Montana. The mascot, which is a grizzly bear, represents the spirit of the team and the fierce determination of its athletes. With its intimidating presence and imposing stature, the Montana Grizzlies mascot has become a beloved figure in the university community. The origins of the Montana Grizzlies mascot can be traced back to the early 1900s when the university adopted the grizzly bear as its official symbol. The choice of the grizzly bear was influenced by the fact that grizzly bears are native to Montana and are known for their strength and resilience. It was believed that the grizzly bear perfectly embodied the qualities of the university's athletes and would serve as a powerful symbol for the team.
The Asia Beat: NOROI: THE CURSE (2005) May Be The Greatest Found Footage Horror Film Ever Made
I’ve had a passion for horror ever since I first snuck out of bed to watch my family’s battered old VHS of Frankenstein. I could indulge in my deepest fears, even discover fears I never thought I’d had, piqued by some macabre premise that promised a sleepless night or two. But while previous forays into horror had remained in a comfortable realm of fiction, The Blair Witch Project was the first film I’d seen that dared to blur the boundary between its fantastic subjects and my own mundane reality. The film wasn’t just the terrifying experience of its doomed aspiring filmmakers, but my own. Horror had become a first-person experience. With later films like [REC] and Paranormal Activity, found-footage helped me tap into an ancient, forbidden curiosity, each work its own Pandora’s Box containing some horrifying buried truth; each one reminding me that I shouldn’t look — but daring me to anyway. Nothing was scarier, I learned, than reality itself.
It wasn’t long before Blair Witch’s shaky-cam realism was thoroughly aped by countless imitators until such attempts at documenting “reality” became more aesthetic than accidental. A claustrophobic, confined setting became a quick rationalization for a tight budget and limited production value. Characters would choose to document the horror rather than flee from it, as if they knew I would be waiting for their footage to be found. Despite each film’s valiant effort to prove how “real” they were, they unintentionally highlighted their own artifice.
There is one film, however, that managed to endure countless repeat viewings, precisely because each one somehow managed to convince me further of its disturbing “authenticity.” That film would be Noroi: the Curse, the source of many a nightmare since my first viewing nearly ten years ago.
Blair Witch‘s American success is easily comparable to that of the infamous Ring in 1998, which spurred an equal demand in the Japanese V-Cinema industry for found-footage horror films. Jason Julier suggests this popularity was fueled by “a combination of technology, curse and the Japanese passion for ancient ghost stories… ably assisted by low budgets and digital technology.” In 2003, director Koji Shiraishi released Honto ni atta!, a ghost-sighting anthology that recruited pop idols and J-Drama stars to explore spooky staged settings. Shiraishi’s films suggested that hiring well-known actors with a pre-existing fanbase established authenticity just as well as using unknowns whose characters had to be taken at face value. When given the opportunity to work from a larger budget with Ju-on and Ring producer Takashige Ichise, Shiraishi seized the chance to break beyond the limited scope of his earlier work and most found-footage films in general. Noroi would be the fruit of their labors.
Ostensibly a film about a film, Noroi screens the last film made by documentarian Masafumi Kobayashi before the fire that lead to his wife’s death and his own disappearance. Making his living as a paranormal investigator, Kobayashi susses out strange happenings all over Japan for his In Search Of-style documentaries. Kobayashi’s search for new material leads him to cross paths with Kana, a child psychic who materializes water on a reality show; Marika, an actress possessed during a TV ghost hunt; and Hori, a tinfoil-coated shut-in warning humanity of cosmic ectoplasmic worms. When Kana’s abrupt disappearance draws parallels between Hori’s ravings and Marika’s possession, the three dedicate themselves to saving Kana and unmasking the demonic forces behind these seemingly disparate events. Kobayashi is driven to find the truth, “no matter how horrifying,” but he’s soon confronted with answers too terrifying to imagine.
In addition to talking-head interviews, Noroi pulls from a staggering archive of news broadcasts and reality TV starring celebrities and comedians (as themselves!), archaic 16mm footage of Japanese purification ceremonies, even ancient emakimono, handscrolls depicting secret rituals since lost to myth and legend. These sources, according to Aidan Kirkbright, effectively replicate “the loud enthusiasm of Japanese variety TV shows and the kind of true crime investigation shows that exploit eerie music and inter-titles to create clichéd late-night TV trash.” With such a myriad stock to pull from, Kobayashi’s documentary effectively dramatizes how the investigation into a little girl’s disappearance factors into a more complex web of mystery deeply rooted in modern and ancient Japanese culture. Free to blend its own fictional footage with centuries of non-fiction material, Shiraishi’s nightmarish mythos becomes indistinguishable from the nightly news — establishing an unmatched, unquestionable realism.
Jim Harper suggests that the plausibility of Noroi’s archival footage is augmented by its presentation as a completed documentary, a decision which gave director Shiraishi the freedom to “edit, manipulate and process the material as much as he likes, in order to achieve the necessary effect.” It’s true: such trickery in a film like The Last Exorcism causes viewers to cry foul, its inexplicable score and sharp edits belie post-production tampering by unseen hands. Noroi’s editorial freedom, however, allows its director to create a tension once reserved for fiction film, a significant advantage over traditional found-footage entries’ crippling limitations of scope. Each shot now displays a certain degree of control and restraint, which “[distances] yet involves us at the same time, drawing us into the atmosphere of the film quite effectively,” Aidan Kirkbright writes. “The film’s terror comes from careful inclusion and omission… with the camera as our eye dictating what we see.” One stellar example comes in the film’s second half, as Kobayashi and his crew split into groups, each with cameras in tow — Kobayashi and Hori climb a mountain in search of Kana, while Marika and Kobayashi’s cameraman frantically return to the village below. As darkness falls, Kobayashi and Hori grow closer to a terrifying revelation aided by night vision; at the same time, Marika quickly shows signs of demonic possession. Both sequences are chilling in their own right, but the film’s deft crosscutting ratchets the tension to levels beyond the abilities of average found-footage films.
The sheer plausibility of Noroi’s footage and presentation is part of what makes it such an effective horror film: despite featuring an investigation into supernatural events, Noroi consistently feels like a documentary first and a horror film second. Only as the film progresses does it begin to take its supernatural roots far more seriously — as if it were an earnest investigation into the truth that, following the direction of its sources, began an unstoppable descent into Lovecraftian madness.
Of course, no such journey is complete without discussing its guides. Masafumi Kobayashi, expertly played by Jin Muraki, is a damn likable guy. Standing apart from his fellow found-footage protagonists, Kobayashi proves to be a capable ghost hunter from frame one. Possessing nerves of steel, Kobayashi wills himself through each spine-tingling encounter with the paranormal driven by the simple maxim that opens the film: “No matter how terrifying, I want the truth.” Early on, Kobayashi understands that the search for truth may be what creates a thrilling documentary, but as the mystery deepens he understands that getting answers will be the one thing that saves the lives of his subjects. It’s up to him to save the child psychic Kana when she disappears, and after actress Marika threatens to become the curse’s latest victim, Kobayashi not only takes her into his home for safekeeping, but tries to prevent her from joining him in breaking the curse. He’s seen what the powerful forces at work can do, and he’s dedicated himself to doing anything he can to prevent those he cares about from falling prey to it. Kobayashi, then, understands that the truth can have a negative value alongside its positives — but doesn’t let that dissuade him from the absolute worth of making the truth known. This singular quality makes Kobayashi the perfect protagonist for a found-footage film; what drives him to make his films is the same reason we watch them. No matter how terrifying, we both seek the truth, and we are prepared to go to any lengths to find it. But, as Noroi will come to ask, are we prepared for what lies at the end of the path?
Kobayashi’s quest reckons the limitations of human knowledge versus our bottomless urge to satisfy our curiosity. The film begins by telling us that Kobayashi’s quest ends in ruin, but as a result of his film-within-a-film, we completely forget that this is the case. Kobayashi edits his film so that the viewer discovers each tantalizing clue as he does; likewise, as his terror and uncertainty grow in the face of the Curse’s dramatic revelations, so do ours. It’s a unified, unsettling experience that refuses to let up throughout the film’s runtime. Wrapped up in Kobayashi’s quest to reveal the connection between these horrifying events, however, we consequently become blind to the answers staring at us in the face, sharing in an idealistic hubris that bears sharp similarity to Chinatown’s Jake Gittes or The Wicker Man’s Sergeant Howie. It’s only after Kobayashi’s documentary reaches its optimistic conclusion that we reacquaint ourselves with his mysterious fate, and in one of the most terrifying scenes ever put on film do we see our relentless hero stare into the overwhelming abyss of the unknowable in an ending befitting the best Greek tragedy. Like all the other characters in the film, Kobayashi fails to realize the truth he desperately seeks has already sought him out — and, as they have, he must reckon with the consequences of his crippling knowledge.
Noroi’s sense of realism may be unmatched in found footage, and the journey of its idealistic, headstrong protagonist makes for gripping viewing; it’s the inseparable nature of the film’s form and content, however, that makes it a contender for one of the best horror films I’ve ever seen. Kobayashi’s film must feel real or else his journey would feel fake. If Noroi possessed the slightest suggestion of falsehood, the audience would have free reign to retreat to a comfortable spectator’s position, ready to let this fiction play out without any personal consequence. By convincing us of its veracity and giving us a protagonist whose drive for earth-shaking answers mirrors our own, Noroi directly interrogates our hunger for truth. In seeking truth, Noroi concludes, we become swallowed up by it. We’ve sought out Pandora’s box and wrested it open, and we deserve whatever comes out.
It has been nearly ten years since Noroi’s release in Japan in August 2005, and it boggles the mind how it’s managed to go undiscovered and unreleased on Western shores. After J-Horror and Found-Footage’s rise in popularity Stateside, such maddening truths are even more so. Xanadeux and Takashige Ichise’s OZ, the companies involved in Noroi’s production, have since fallen into bankruptcy. Kadokawa Pictures USA, who planned an initial American release, suffered a similar fate in 2009, leaving Noroi’s licensing rights in a strange limbo. In earlier years, I created the film’s IMDb and Facebook page in a naïve attempt to rescue it from obscurity, where it has accumulated a small yet enthusiastic following. There are subtitled copies available on third-party DVD sites. Perhaps the same dark spirits behind Kobayashi’s disappearance have similar plans for his last piece of work, determined to bury this film at all costs. However, they face a growing audience who share in Kobayashi’s heroic credo: no matter how terrifying, we want the truth.
A long overdue update: Shudder acquired the U.S. rights to Noroi in 2017. After 12 years in obscurity, Noroi was finally released in America on June 1, 2017. It is available to stream on their platform.
Does Shudder’s ‘Noroi: The Curse’ Earn Its Reputation as the Scariest Found Footage Horror Film?
The chances are that if you’re a frequenter of message boards, social media, or any other horror-centric corner of the internet, you’ve heard of Noroi: The Curse , a Japanese found-footage style faux-documentary that’s developed a strong cult following despite it being a not-so-easy to come by title for many years. Touted as one of the must-see scariest films in horror that eschews found footage horror’s typical bad rap, Noroi boasts stellar audience scores on IMDb and Rotten Tomatoes. Though released in Japan in 2005, it’s still not had a proper physical release stateside. As a result, diehard fans have repeatedly uploaded it to YouTube only to have it pulled for copyright issues shortly after.
Now that it’s widely available as an exclusive streaming title on Shudder, it’s much easier for genre fans to access the film. But does Noroi live up to the underground hype?
Noroi plays out as a found-footage documentary by paranormal investigator Masafumi Kobayashi (Jin Muraki). Naturally, he went missing shortly after the completion of the documentary. The subject of Kobayashi’s work takes a while to present itself, initially appearing as a series of unrelated paranormal topics by way of various interviews, fieldwork, and TV clips. Emphasis on the slow unfurling; this film clocks in at nearly two-hours long. That languidly slow start plays a significant factor for the film’s detractors.
Eventually, Kobayashi discovers a connection between these random clips; death seems to follow eccentric recluse Junko Ishii (Tomono Kuga) and her young son everywhere they go. Pulling on that thread, Kobayashi starts unraveling the core mystery of a demonic entity named Kagutaba. This mystery and the elaborate mythology drive the film; much of the horror is implied until the final act. Director Kôji Shiraishi ( Grotesque , Sadako vs. Kayako ) employs barely any actual scares at all, forcing viewers to pay close attention to even the most seemingly innocuous of details presented. Shiraishi also skips out on employing many of the trademarks of found footage horror. All of which to say, the film’s power to scare rests solely on the shoulders of its storytelling. The more the dangling threads tie together, the more unsettling it becomes.
The methodical storytelling that ignores traditional atmosphere and scare-crafting combined with the lo-fi VHS quality is the wedge that divides those that love the movie and those that don’t. Admittedly, I fell into the latter upon the first watch. Nearly two hours is far too long for many horror movies, and the first hour does tend to crawl. The ultimate payoff may not feel worth it and certainly didn’t for me at first. But a second watch on Shudder deepened my appreciation for the film, which allowed for better absorption of the nuances and details. Details are crucial to unlocking this film, but patience is just as vital. Of all the found footage/faux documentary-style horror movies out there, Noroi sets itself apart from the pack with its unconventional approach.
Fear is always subjective, of course. Noroi spins a compelling mystery steeped in realism, though the mythology isn’t. Many of the actors play themselves, further blurring the line between reality and fiction. For many, it works. For others, it’ll drag without a satisfying payoff to merit the pacing. Wherever you fall on the spectrum of enjoyment, Noroi ’s place in horror remains fascinating. When it released in Japan in 2005, the J-horror craze in the U.S. had already started to wane. It remained in relative obscurity for years, at least overseas, leaving it up to fans to spread the word and keep it at the forefront of discussion. Over ten years later, the only DVD or Blu-ray offerings are imports, leaving Shudder as the only legal means of viewing.
And that just fuels the hype and mystery surrounding a unique anomaly such as this.
Kōji Shiraishi’s Noroi is a found footage horror like no other
Unlike most possession-based pseudo-documentaries, this 2005 J-horror delivers its biggest scares in broad daylight.
I f you want to understand the state of J-horror in the mid-2000s, look no further than Wes Craven’s remake of Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Pulse. In a last-ditch attempt to reinvigorate the genre for US audiences, Craven took a slow-burning social commentary about endemic loneliness and twisted it into a standard-fare ghost story – with more budget, more jump scares, and none of the original’s charm. As other remakes continued to miss the mark, and Japanese filmmakers began to desert the themes of ancient curses and technophobia, the genre was arguably dying.
This might explain why Kōji Shiraishi’s Noroi didn’t reach the international audience it deserved. Released in 2005, this lo-fi mockumentary follows paranormal investigator Masafumi Kobayashi (Jin Muraki) as he encounters a series of apparently unconnected disturbances: a single mother who dies driving into oncoming traffic; a little girl disturbed after appearing on a TV psychic show; a string of suicides. As each incident converges, however, Kobayashi vows to help two victims escape an emerging curse – and in doing so, seals his own fate.
The power of Noroi comes from its seeming authenticity. It starts by casting off J-horror’s most overused tropes; instead of prophetic phone calls/emails/videos warning characters of their death, pigeons crash into their windows. Although the curse is demonic in nature, it triggers a series of incidents that few horror aficionados could draw a thread through. And the characters – like Mitsuo Hori, a literal tin foil hat-wearing psychic who rants about the threat of “ectoplasmic worms” – are genuinely off-the-wall.
On a technical level, Shiraishi appears to have been working on a shoe-string. Footage from Kobayashi’s single cameraperson makes up the majority of the film, and interviews with witnesses and experts are hastily cut together with home movies and excerpts from TV shows. Although the film’s minimal VFX haven’t aged well, the other constraints give it the eerie feel of a late-night Discovery Channel documentary.
Handheld footage is especially tricky to get right. Even in renowned found footage films like REC and Paranormal Activity, the photographer seems to have an uncanny ability to sniff out the scares. In Noroi, the camera operators have no clue what’s happening, often struggling to focus on the action or missing it entirely. In one instance, a victim of the curse, Marika, becomes possessed off-screen while her mother is filming the lunch they’ve prepared together. When the camera finally looks up, we see Marika stopped dead in a doorway, groaning and leaning too far back on her heels. There’s something about the way the camera ‘walks in’ that makes this scene all the more unsettling.
Many of Noroi’s scares come from similarly unassuming set-ups. In so-called ‘daylight horror’ films, which received a lot of attention following Ari Aster’s Midsommar, monsters are not confined to the shadows, meaning they can lurk anywhere. Noroi makes ample use of this, with its most chilling moments happening in the daytime or in well-lit domestic settings. Even the film’s searing finale – arguably one of the best closing scenes of any J-horror – occurs when Kobayashi is interrupted having a quiet dinner with his wife. As a result, nowhere in Noroi feels safe.
Unfortunately, the film proved to be something of a fluke for director Shiraishi. In 2009, he returned with another mockumentary, Occult, whose promising story was harpooned by VFX that made hell look like a demonic Windows screensaver. In the same year, he dropped Grotesque, which the BBFC banned from the UK citing its “minimal narrative or character development and […] unrelenting and escalating scenario of humiliation, brutality and sadism”.
Shiraishi was also responsible for the abomination Sadako vs Kayako, in which the vengeful ghosts of Ringu and Ju-On go head-to-head in a showdown nobody really needed to see. It’s serendipitous that, in the case of Noroi, Shiraishi’s mad ideas and clumsy execution fell together with such remarkable results.
It was believed that the grizzly bear perfectly embodied the qualities of the university's athletes and would serve as a powerful symbol for the team. Over the years, the Montana Grizzlies mascot has undergone several transformations to reflect the changing times and the evolving identity of the university. The mascot has been depicted in various forms, from a costumed character to a more realistic representation of a grizzly bear.
Today, the mascot is a prominent feature at university sporting events, rallying the crowd and adding to the overall excitement and atmosphere of the games. The Montana Grizzlies mascot not only represents the university's sports teams but also serves as a source of school spirit and unity among students, alumni, and fans. The mascot is often seen at pep rallies, community events, and parades, bringing joy and enthusiasm wherever it goes. It is a symbol that unites the university community and creates a sense of belonging and pride. In conclusion, the Montana Grizzlies mascot is an iconic symbol of the University of Montana, representing the strength and determination of its athletes. It has become a beloved figure in the university community, rallying the crowd and adding excitement to sporting events. The mascot serves as a source of school spirit and unity, bringing together students, alumni, and fans in support of the university's teams..
Reviews for "The Montana Grizzlies Mascot: An Iconic Figure in College Sports"
1. Samantha - 2/5 stars - I was really disappointed with the Montana Grizzlies mascot. It lacked the energy and excitement that I expected from a mascot at a college football game. The costume looked old and worn-out, and the person inside didn't seem to put much effort into engaging with the crowd. Overall, it was a forgettable experience, and I wouldn't recommend watching a game just for the mascot.
2. John - 3/5 stars - The Montana Grizzlies mascot was just average. It didn't bring anything special to the game, and I found it quite predictable. The costume design was outdated, and the performer inside didn't have the same enthusiasm as some other mascots I've seen. While it didn't ruin my experience, I was hoping for something more entertaining and memorable.
3. Emily - 2/5 stars - I really didn't enjoy the Montana Grizzlies mascot. It felt like they were trying too hard to be funny and engaging, but it came off as forced and awkward. The costume design was also quite unimpressive, and it didn't have that wow factor that I was expecting. Overall, it was a forgettable experience, and I wouldn't go out of my way to watch the mascot perform again.
4. Mike - 1/5 stars - I was extremely disappointed with the Montana Grizzlies mascot. It was one of the most boring and uninspiring mascots I've ever seen. The performer inside lacked any sort of energy or enthusiasm, and the costume looked cheap and poorly made. It was a big letdown, and I wouldn't recommend wasting your time watching this mascot at a game.
5. Rachel - 2/5 stars - The Montana Grizzlies mascot was a huge disappointment. It lacked any sort of originality or creativity, and it felt like I've seen this same mascot at a dozen other sporting events. The costume design was average at best, and the performer inside didn't do much to engage with the crowd. Overall, it was a forgettable experience, and I wouldn't recommend paying much attention to the mascot during a game.