Kurosawa's dreamlike tale on the literal–and murderous–ghosts in the machine of contemporary life (the internet) may be one of the eeriest, most influential works of the J- Horror wave (it spawned multiple rip-offs and the inevitable Hollywood remake), but it's also one of the most intriguingly philosophical examinations of modern connected culture made this century. Through the electronic pulse and warm crackle of a modem hookup, something's coming into the computers of lonely Tokyo residents. "Would you like to to meet a ghost?" whispers a voice, as the site displays flickering images of individuals alone in a darkened room, kept company only by a monitor's light: they may as well be the living, or they may as well be the dead. Either way, the connection is now open. And as the city slowly turns into a ghost town, whomever's left alive desperately seeks whatever human connection remains. Kurosawa's astonishing set designs, from the countless darkened living rooms of internet users to the apocalyptic, Tokyo-on-fire finale, are the stuff of genius (and nightmare), but it's the film's underlying refrain ("Will I just go on living? All alone?‾) that harbors our darkest fears.