In Frankenstein, Junji Ito brings his distinct style to Mary Shelley’s classical novel, delivering an adaption that’s both faithful to the original and uniquely his own. Rather than merely retelling the story, Ito amplifies its gothic elements, fusing the narrative with his signature body horror and unsettling visual style.

Ito’s adaption of Frankenstein doesn’t stand out for introducing new plot points, but for the visceral and haunting visuals that breathe new life into a classic.

Plot Summary – The Monster Reborn

Ito’s adaption closely follows Shelley’s original narrative. Victor Frankenstein, driven by an obsession with creating life, assembles a creature from disembodied corpses.

Upon bringing his creation to life, Victor is horrified by the results and abandons it. The creature, yearning for companionship and understanding, faces relentless rejection from society, leading it onto a path of vengeance. The story culminates in a tragic confrontation between creator and creation, exploring themes of ambition, isolation and the consequences of playing god.

What Makes It So Good?

This adaption of Frankenstein stands apart from others because of Ito’s fantastic artwork.

One of the most striking aspects of his adaption is the depiction of Victor Frankenstein’s descent into madness. Through intense facial expressions and chaotic, claustrophobic scenes, Ito perfectly captures Victor’s unraveling psyche. His laboratory is shrouded in shadows, crammed with ominous machinery, and piles of dismembered body parts.

When we finally see the creature, Ito’s grotesque style shines. The creature is a towering figure of unnatural proportions and over-long limbs. Its body is nothing but a patchwork of rotting, stitched-together flesh covered in ragged bandages. Yet his expression, vacant eyes and a drooling mouth, is both terrifying and pitiable, making it a truly tragic abomination.

These visuals reach their peak when Victor’s forced to create a bride for the creature. In a moment both shocking and heartbreaking, he uses the head of a woman wrongfully executed for one of the creature’s misdeeds. Her reanimation is horrifying, her expression frozen in terror. When the two creatures fight, it’s one of the most grotesque and visually stunning scenes in the entire manga.

Deeper Themes – Obsession, Isolation and the Human Condition

While Ito’s adaption is visually intense, it doesn’t lose sight of the novel’s core themes. The story delves into the danger of unchecked ambition and the ethical implications of scientific exploration. The creature’s struggle for acceptance and the pain of isolation are portrayed with a rawness that resonates deeply.

The lines between humanity and monstrosity are blurred all throughout the work. The creature, despite its horrifying appearance, exhibits profound emotions and a desire for connection, making the reader wonder who the real monster is. This exploration of the human condition adds depth to the narrative, making it much more than just another Ito horror tale.

Final Verdict – A Haunting Visual Masterpiece

Junji Ito’s Frankenstein is a compelling fusion of classic literature and modern horror manga. His adaption stays true to the original narrative while enhancing its emotional and psychological depth through powerful visuals.

For fans of classic horror and Ito’s work, this adaption offers a fresh and chilling perspective of one of literature’s most timeless stories.

If you’re interested in learning more about Junji Ito’s work, consider reading my reviews of Headless Statues, The Bully, or my comprehensive list of the 40 best Junji Ito stories.

You can find Frankenstein in Junji Ito’s collection by the same name, available on Amazon.

The Bully is one of Junji Ito’s most haunting stories. It’s not because of grotesque visuals or supernatural terrors, but how painfully realistic it is. It’s a tale that explores trauma, cruelty, and how it can warp a person’s psyche.

Plot Summary – A Childhood Haunting That Never Ends

Kuriko, a young woman, recounts a dark chapter from her childhood. She remembers meeting a timid young boy named Nao. At first she was drawn to him, but when he became attached to her, she grew annoyed. Before long, this annoyance turned to hatred, and she began to torment him. What started as light teasing soon escalated into relentless bullying.

Eventually, she runs into Nao again. He’s grown into a soft-spoken, kind man who shows no resentment for the past. The two of them get closer and marry. When their son is born, however, Nao suddenly disappears.

As her son grows, Kuriko sees Nao in him, and it triggers something terrible within her. The story ends in a chilling revelation, showing how far she’s regressed back into her old self.

What Makes It So Good?

The Bully isn’t horror in the traditional sense. Instead, it is psychological horror deeply rooted in the human condition.

The story escalates subtly. At first, Kuriko’s affectionate toward Nao, but over time, she exploits his dependency. That transformation is unsettling because it feels all too real. There’s no dramatic incident that pushes her. No, there’s only irritation, boredom, and eventually, a sadistic enjoyment. It’s cruelty, for cruelty’s sake.

Visually, The Bully features one of Ito’s most haunting final panels. We see an adult Kuriko who’s transformed back into her child self, now wearing the same clothes she did as a child, and her face contorted by that same grin full of twisted glee. It’s nothing short of horrifying.

Deeper Themes – Abuse and the Fractured Human Psyche

The Bully isn’t a tale about ghosts or murderers. It’s about how unresolved emotions like guilt, shame, and even buried enjoyment of cruelty can fester.

Kuriko becomes a perpetrator again, not because she was abused, but because something inside of her remained deeply broken. Her descent is a regression, a return to a time when she had full control over someone weaker, over someone who depended on her, and the twisted pleasure she took from exploiting that power.

Its haunting ending also poses another question: was Kuriko ever truly sorry? Or was her adult kindness, her regret, nothing but a mask she wore until she could cause harm again?

Final Verdict – A Masterpiece of Realistic Horror

The Bully is one of Junji Ito’s most grounded and realistic stories, and this is exactly what makes it so terrifying. It shows that cruelty needs no reason, how trauma can warp love into hatred, and how some people never truly change.

If you’re looking for one of Ito’s more realistic stories in which the monsters are entirely human, The Bully is a must-read.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my review of The Window Next Door, Headless Statues, or my complete list of the 40 best Junji Ito stories.

You can find The Bully in Junji Ito’s collection Deserter, available on Amazon.

Headless Statues is one of Junji Ito’s earlier works, first published in 1995, and later collected in Flesh-Colored Horror. Despite its age, it remains a standout piece, showcasing his mastery of grotesque imagery.

Plot Summary – When Art Imitates Life

The story follows Rumi, a high school student, her friend Shimada, and their art teacher, Mr. Okabe, who is known for his headless statues.

One evening, the three of them discuss his art, and Mr. Okabe shares the reason for his creations. Soon after, Rumi goes home, leaving the two of them behind.

The next day, Shimada isn’t feeling well and stays absent from school. Upon arriving there, Rumi learns that Mr. Okabe was brutally murdered and decapitated last night. When Shimada finally returns to school, something is off about him, and Rumi suspects that his increasingly strange behavior is related to the murder.

As Rumi investigates, she finally uncovers the horrifying truth. The headless statues have come to live, and now wander the old school building, wielding cleavers and seeking human heads to complete themselves.

The story builds to a nightmarish finale, in which a fleeing Rumi is eventually cornered by the statues. In the final panel, we witness her terrifying expression while the statues all clamor for her head.

What Makes It So Good?

Headless Statues is a slow-burn story that knows how to build dread. From an eccentric art teacher who’s obsessed with faceless art, to his sudden murder and Shimada’s strange behavior, we can tell something is wrong.

Once the horror finally hits, it’s pure Ito. Headless Statues stands out for its disturbing imagery and visual horror. The statues are hideously grotesque, smeared with blood, brandishing cleavers and bearing mismatched heads. One of the most disturbing images is a group of statues all grappling over a single head frozen in a perpetual scream, trying to make it their own.

Deeper Themes – Identity, Obsession and the Uncanny

While Headless Statues stands out for its disturbing visuals, there are still some deeper themes hidden below its surface.

At its core, it’s a story about the meaning of identity and what happens when it’s stripped away. Mr. Okabe claims that faces in art are meaningless, because they fail at capturing real emotions. Thus, he purposefully omits them from his work, claiming it gives his creations limitless possibilities.

Yet his statues think otherwise. After they come to live, they crave identity and a face of their own. Their quest to complete themselves might suggest that removing identity isn’t a blessing, but dehumanizing. Their creator’s artistic vision becomes a curse.

The story also heavily plays with the concept of the uncanny valley. The statues are objects that look almost human, but are distinctly not. Their missing faces make them into unsettling blank slates. They are nothing but distorted approximations. This becomes even more apparent once we see them move. They are nothing but stilted constructs, moving jittery and unnaturally.

Final Verdict – A Chilling Exploration of Artistic Hubris

Headless Statues stands as a testament to Junji Ito’s ability to craft deeply disturbing horror stories. It’s brutal and weird, a story in which art becomes monstrous.

If you enjoy Ito’s visually disturbing works, and haven’t read Headless Statues, I highly recommend it. It’s a must-read.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my review of My Dear Ancestors, The Window Next Door, or my complete list of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

Headless Statues has an official English translation, but is currently out of print and not widely available.

The Window Next Door is one of Junji Ito’s shortest works. It comprises only 16 pages and comes with an incredibly simple premise. Yet it remains one of his most memorable.

Thanks to one thing, and one thing alone: the neighbor’s face.

Plot Summary – A Grotesque Neighbor

Hiroshi and his family move into a new home. Right next to it stands an old, run-down building with just a single window. Incidentally, said window directly faces the one in Hiroshi’s bedroom.

The family soon learns that the house belongs to a reclusive woman who barely leaves her home. Yet at night, Hiroshi begins hearing strange whispers. When he approaches the window, he finally catches a glimpse of the strange woman, and her appearance is nothing short of terrifying, monstrous even.

As the nights go on, she tries to get closer. First by calling out to Hiroshi, then by using a pole to cross the distance between the windows. When neither of those works, the story turns surreal. The wall itself stretches over toward Hiroshi, who ends the story by lamenting that the window next door is coming for him.

What Makes The Window Next Door So Good?

On paper, it’s an incredibly minimal story. A family moves into a new house, a creepy neighbor is introduced, and we bear witness to her increasingly strange behavior. Many would call the story forgettable or anticlimactic, if not for that one image.

It’s the neighbor’s face that makes the story so memorable. It’s a masterclass in surreal body horror. Her eyes are narrow, her lips dry and barely there. When she notices Hiroshi, she opens a drooling mouth filled with protruding, jagged, and mismatched teeth. Even her hands, framing the face, look unnatural, feeling overly large and bony. This woman is not just unsettling. She’s an abomination.

Even more interesting, the horror just works. We never learn who the woman is, and why she looks or acts the way she does. No, all we get is her face, and this is more than enough to make the story stick.

Paired with the short, escalating sequence of events, the tension never drags. Every night, the woman comes closer. Thus, the story does exactly what it needs to do.

Deeper Themes – Stalking, Grooming and Vulnerability

On a deeper level, The Window Next Door, is about more than just a creepy face.

It’s a story about stalking, of someone trying to invade your private life, and forcing a connection. The woman isn’t simply watching Hiroshi, she’s trying to get to him, and night after night, she comes closer.

And where does it all happen? In Hiroshi’s bedroom, the one place he should feel safe. When does she do it? During the night, when he’s sleeping and at his most vulnerable. This is a hallmark of violated privacy, but also grooming, given that our protagonist is still a teenager.

The story also touches on another of Ito’s familiar themes: dismissive parents. Hiroshi tries to explain what’s happening, but his parents brush it off as nothing but a dream, and after a short change of rooms, leave him to face the growing horror all by himself. This is a theme that echoes throughout horror media involving adolescent protagonists: the adult world cannot protect you.

Final Verdict – Short, Simple, and Horrifying

The Window Next Door is proof that you don’t need a long, sprawling backstory to terrify readers. Sometimes a single panel, a single face, is more than enough.

That face went on to become one of Ito’s most iconic creations, and it even inspired one of my own stories: The Disappearing Alley.

The Window Next Door might be short; it might be simple, but it’s unforgettable.

Want more Junji Ito? Check out my reviews of The Thing That Drifted Ashore, My Dear Ancestors, or my complete list of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

You can find The Window Next Door in Junji Ito’s collection Tombs, available on Amazon.

My Dear Ancestors is one of Junji Ito’s most bizarre and grotesque short stories. While it stands out for its body horror and disturbing imagery, the story conceals much deeper themes.

It’s a tale about the nature of memory, of tradition and the suffocating burden of family expectations.

Plot Overview – A Bizarre Family Secret

Risa, a young woman, is suffering from temporary amnesia and plagued from reoccurring nightmares of a giant, caterpillar-like creature. Her boyfriend, Shuichi, takes her to his family home, hoping it will help her recover.

There, she meets Shuichi’s father. The old man, however, doesn’t step into the room, but enters it unnaturally crawling like some sort of crab. From that moment on, the story takes a turn toward complete madness.

As Risa’s memories return, she recalls a horrifying truth. Shuichi’s father has a chain of human skulls stuck to the top of his head. They are the remains of his ancestors, fused to him and allowing them to live on.

This monstrous form is the source of Risa’s nightmare, and the trauma of seeing something this surreal forced her mind to block it out. Even worse, not only is Shuichi’s father dying, but Shuichi himself is next in line. Thus, he’s commanded by his ancestors to bring Risa into the family, to bear a child and to continue the line. No matter the cost.

What Makes My Dear Ancestors So Good?

At first glance, the story appears nothing but a surreal nightmare. The creature design is fantastic. The stacked skulls give the appearance of a segmented worm and are amongst Ito’s most visually unsettling images. Another is the movements of both Shuichi and his father. They are uncanny, twisted, and showcase Ito’s prime inspiration for the story: The Exorcist.

Yet it’s the psychological impact that gives the story depth. Risa’s amnesia isn’t just a random plot device. It’s a clear reflection of the trauma she suffered.

There’s also the realization that Shuichi himself is complicit. At first, he appears caring, but it’s revealed that he’s long accepted the family tradition. Risa’s role is now nothing but a vessel to continue it. Even worse, when Risa breaks down under the sheer weight of the horror, not only the ancestors, but even Shuichi himself rejoices.

This reveals the story’s true horror. It’s not about the grotesque stack of skulls, neither the uncanny crab-walk, but the crushing weight of family pressure.

Deeper Themes – Memory, Tradition, and the Loss of Autonomy

Risa’s amnesia, as mentioned before, represents the brain’s instinct to protect itself. Seeing something too horrific to comprehend can twist our mind and force us to bury our memories. Yet they sometimes resurface, taking on different shapes and haunting us like nightmares. In Risa’s case, her nightmares can almost be seen as warnings of something unnatural coming for her.

The literal chain of ancestors is a grotesque metaphor for intergenerational pressure. Shuichi isn’t allowed to live his own life. Instead, he’s expected to continue the family line. Love is conditional. He’s only allowed to marry Risa if she agrees to bear a child. It shows that the only thing that matters is continuing the family line.

When Risa’s mind finally breaks, the ancestors are delighted. Her will, her wishes and dreams, none of them matter. Now she’s compliant. This moment can be interpreted as a chilling critique of how traditional and patriarchal societies have historically viewed women. They weren’t seen as people with agency, and only tools to bear children and continue the family line. Which is a problem that’s still prevalent in Japanese society, amongst others, even today.

Whether Ito meant it as a direct social commentary or not, the horror still resonates because it reflects something real.

Final Verdict – Bizarre, Grotesque, and Emotionally Devastating

My Dear Ancestors is one of Junji Ito’s most visually disturbing stories, but also one of his most layered. While its body horror is front and center, it’s also about how deeply tradition can influence our own identity.

By the end, what horrifies us the most is not the monstrous family, but Risa’s fate. She’s broken, her agency gone and her future sealed. And the worst part? Everyone around her is celebrating it.

If you enjoy horror stories that combine surreal horror with disturbing metaphors, My Dear Ancestors is a must-read.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my reviews of The Licking Woman and The Thing that Drifted Ashore, or my complete list of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

You can find My Dear Ancestors in Junji Ito’s collection Shiver, available on Amazon.

Junji Ito’s The Thing That Drifted Ashore is a short, simple, but also deeply disturbing story. It’s less about what happens, and more about what it suggests.

While the most memorable part is its visual centerpiece, the sea creature washed ashore, the true horror of the tale goes much deeper. It’s about survival, identity and horrors of the deep sea.

Plot Overview – A Monstrous Discovery

The story opens after a massive sea creature washes ashore. Yet something’s different. It’s not a whale or other known marine animal, but something far different and alien. Soon enough a crowd of people gathers. Some are there out of curiosity, others to identify the unknown creature. Amongst them is a young man, terrified of sea creatures, and a young woman named Mie, who lost her fiancé in a shipwreck seven years ago.

While the scientists examine the creature, they notice something strange. Certain parts of the creature’s skin are translucent, and behind it, human faces can be seen.

At first, it’s presumed they are the creature’s victims, but it’s soon discovered that they are still alive. Yet when the creature’s body is cut open, there’s an even more horrifying revelation: the people inside are still alive. They are the shipwrecked who survived by becoming parasites. When they finally break free, however, they are no longer sane, but entirely broken.

What Makes The Thing That Drifted Ashore So Good?

It’s one of Ito’s most minimalistic stories, but also one of his most haunting. The narrative is straightforward, yet every detail builds towards its final, horrifying revelation.

The creature itself is a masterpiece of grotesque design. It’s gigantic, serpentine, and utterly alien. Its head comprises nothing but tumorous growth and tendrils, making it look more like a deranged nightmare than any known species. The scientists speculate that it’s a prehistoric lifeform, something much older than man. All that’s clear, however, is just how little we know about the depths of the ocean.

The horror deepens at the idea of people surviving as parasites, adapting and transforming while inside an alien organism. They survived, but at what cost?

The story’s most haunting element, comes from the young man who fears sea creatures. His fear is validated in the worst possible way. If the creature’s skin is translucent, and the people survived behind it for seven years, then what exactly did they see down there? Was it really living on as parasites that drove them mad, or was it something else?

This gives us the story’s final implication. While the creature that drifted ashore is nightmarish, there might be things out there that are much, much more horrifying.

Deeper Themes – Survival, Transformation, and the Abyss

The core question of the story is what it means to live inside another being. The thought is horrifying. For the people inside this story, survival comes at the cost of transformation and losing one’s humanity. As a result, their minds are broken, their identities warped, and they ultimately end up as insane.

The story also toys with our fear of the unknown, specifically the depths of the ocean. First, by the appearance of the grotesque creature that washed ashore. Then, by the idea of humans being forced to become parasites. And lastly, the implication that there are much worse horrors down in the depths of the ocean. This last part is the real horror of the story. We just don’t know, and that’s what makes the story’s terror linger.

The Thing That Washed Ashore also touches on the theme of voyeurism, spectacle and indifference. People flood to the beach to take in the view of the strange creature, almost as if it’s an attraction. None of them care about the creature itself, drawing sharp parallels to people gawking at beached whales. People don’t care about suffering, all they care about is spectacle.

Final Verdict – Quiet, Simple, and Cosmic

The Thing That Drifted Ashore might be one of Ito’s simpler stories, but it’s still quite a piece. It’s not a story that relies on scares or gore, but on the final revelation and its implications.

It’s a story about the cost of survival, how it can warp people, and the horrors that lie below the surface.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my reviews of Fashion Model and The Licking Woman, or my complete list of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

Junji Ito’s The Licking Woman is remembered for one thing and one thing alone, the image of a grotesquely bloated tongue stretching from an unnaturally warped face. It’s an image that’s frequently shared online for how absurd and visceral it is.

The story itself, however, has much more to offer than this single panel. Below its surface lies a disturbing tale of bodily invasion, trauma and the horror of losing your own agency.

Plot Overview – A Deathly Lick

The story begins with Miku’s fiancé, Tsuyoshi. On his way home, he’s licked by a strange woman. At first, he laughs it off, but shortly after, he falls ill and eventually dies. At the hospital, a toxic substance is found in his bloodstream.

Before long, reports of more victims surface, and the story of a mysterious ‘Licking Woman’ begins spreading. A grief-stricken Miku joins the local neighborhood watch and manages to subdue the woman. The Licking Woman is hospitalized, but no toxins are found on her tongue.

Years later, Miku meets a woman named Nagaoka, who claims to have been another victim of the Licking Woman. When they learn of the Licking Woman’s release, they form a plan to kill her using potassium cyanide.

When new cases surface, Miku confronts the Licking Woman once more. As the story draws to a close, however, it takes an unexpected turn. It’s not only revealed that Nagaoka might have been the Licking Woman, but that her tongue might have had its own agency. Even worse, Miku, who thought she’d left it all behind, eventually succumbs to the same horror when a giant, bloated and poisonous tongue barges from her mouth.

What Makes the Licking Woman So Good?

The Licking Woman is one of Ito’s shorter tales, but it’s amongst his most iconic and uniquely unsettling. It begins with an almost laughable premise, a woman licking random strangers, but it soon turns terrifying.

The visuals are stunning, and once again showcase Ito’s mastery of the craft. We witness a disgustingly swollen tongue that’s both wet and entirely alien. The Licking Woman’s face is distorted, her eyes both wild and lifeless at the same time.

Yet it’s not just the visuals that make this story a stand out, it’s the ambiguity. What exactly is the tongue? Is it a parasite? A disease? We never truly find out, and as so often, this ambiguity is the real genius of the story. There’s also Nagaoka. We have to wonder, how much was she the Licking Woman, and how much was she controlled by something else? When the tongue vanishes after Nagaoka’s death, and later bursts from Miku’s mouth, we’re left with more questions than answers.

That’s why the story lingers. It’s not just disgusting or disturbing, but deeply unsettling.

Deeper Themes – Bodily Invasion, Trauma and Parasitic Horror

At its most literal, The Licking Woman is a tale about the horror of unwanted physical content. Being licked by a stranger isn’t merely unsettling, it’s disgusting and a clear violation of personal boundaries.

Normally, licking is associated with affection and intimacy, but here it’s invasive, predatory and eventually fatal. Even worse, it touches on our fear of disease transmission and contamination.

The story also heavily plays into psychological trauma and the shattering of intimacy. Those who survive the Licking Woman’s attack are never the same. They develop an aversion to being licked by pets, and even being kissed or touched by loved ones. It shows how trauma reshapes not only our body but also our mind.

The tongue is the story’s most interesting element. If it truly is a sentient organism with a life of its own, it gives the story yet another layer. This change The Licking Woman from a tale about a human-shaped monster, to one of parasitic horror.

The tongue distorts and warps its host, takes control and drives it to do abhorrent things. Seen through that lens, Nagaoka’s plan of killing the Licking Woman could be interpreted as her fighting her own parasitic infection. It’s her wish to free herself from the other that lingers inside her body, ready to break free at any moment and take control of her.

Final Verdict – Grotesque, Uncomfortable and Visually Stunning

The Licking Woman is a deeply unsettling story. Its imagery is unforgettable, but so is the intimacy of its horror. It’s not merely a tale of bodily invasion and its dire consequences, but one of parasitic horror and being controlled against your own will.

If you’re looking for a short, but deeply disturbing Junji Ito story, The Licking woman is an essential read.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my reviews of Dissection Girl and Fashion Model, or my long list of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

You can find it in Junji Ito’s Venus in the Blind Spot collection, available on Amazon.

Fashion model is another fan favorite story by Junji Ito, and for a good reason.

It’s a rather short and simple horror story, but one that stands out because of its central figure: Miss Fuchi. The moment we see her, we know instantly that something’s wrong with her. Her face is too long, her features inhumane and uncanny. No, we can tell this is not a normal person, but something entirely different.

Plot Overview – A Monster in Human Clothing

The story follows Iwasaki, a film student. After seeing Miss Fuchi in a fashion magazine, her uncanny appearance causes him to suffer from terrible nightmares.

When he and his fellow students begin casting for a short film, they put out a casting call. In the end, only three people sent in submissions, but Iwasaki recognizes one of them right away. It’s the terrible fashion model that so haunted him for the past weeks. Yet the others disregard his warnings, and decide to cast her anyway, believing that including her might bring more attention to their film.

As the group sets out, however, Miss Fuchi’s appearance and behavior soon begin unnerving the rest of the crew. Tensions rise, things take a turn for the worse, and Miss Fuchi reveals her true nature. She’s not merely a scary or weird looking woman, but a cannibalistic monster.

What Makes Fashion Model So Good?

Fashion Model differs from other Junji Ito stories. It’s neither a psychological horror story, nor does it feature cosmic elements. No, it’s a simple monster-tale, one about a terrifying creature pretending to be a normal human being.

The most memorable part of the story is, without a doubt, Miss Fuchi’s design. It’s instantly memorable for how comically off-putting it is. She’s the uncanny made flesh, something that looks almost human, but is definitely not. This dissonance lingers, and grows stronger as the story progresses, making her one of Junji Ito’s most iconic creations.

Fashion Model is also amongst the tensest of Ito’s stories. Right from the get-go, the moment Iwasaki first notices Miss Fuchi in the fashion magazine, we can feel something terrible is coming. This tension never breaks, and intensifies whenever we see Miss Fuchi and the more of her terrifying nature is revealed.

Deeper Themes – Hidden Danger, Instinct, and Monstrosity in Plain Sight

While Fashion Model might be one of Junji Ito’s simpler horror stories, there are still deeper themes hidden beneath its surface.

Iwasaki’s initial revulsion of Miss Fuchi turns out to be more than justified. His instincts told him something was wrong, but he eventually ignored it. It’s his hesitation that becomes fatal and showcases how often we second-guess our instincts to be rational or appear open-minded.

Miss Fuchi’s role as a fashion model, a profession rooted in beauty, can be seen as deeply ironic. It’s the idea that even a monster can wear normal clothes, and with enough glamor, enough attention, will be accepted without question. It’s a reminder that the most dangerous figures often hide in plain sight.

The story’s backdrop in the entertainment industry feels almost too deliberate. Miss Fuchi might have known that her status as a fashion model would guarantee her a role in the film. Seen through this lens, her behavior feels calculated, predatory even, as if her submission was nothing but a lure meant to draw in new prey.

Final Verdict – Simple, Uncanny, but Unforgettable

Fashion Model is pure horror and pure Junji Ito. It’s a story that shocks and unsettles you right from the get go, and continues to build up tension until its horrifying climax. Miss Fuchi is one of Ito’s most iconic creations for a reason, and her image will stay with you long after you read the story.

If you’re looking for a terrifying entry point into Junji Ito’s work, Fashion Model is perfect.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my reviews of Greased, Dissection Girl, or my list of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

You can find Fashion Model in Junji Ito’s Shiver collection, available on Amazon.

I read pretty much everything that Junji Ito has published over his long career, but few of his stories made my skin crawl the way Greased (also known as Glyceride) did. It’s not his scariest, but it might be his most disgusting story. Every page, every panel, feels coated in filth. It’s grotesque, visceral, and even if you want to look away, you just can’t.

While many of Ito’s stories focus on supernatural forces or existential dread, Greased is entirely grounded in reality. Here the horror comes from one’s own home, and from family dynamics that slowly rot away.

Plot Overview – A Grease-Soaked Nightmare

The story follows Yui, a teenage girl who lives above her family’s yakiniku restaurant. Right from the beginning, the setting is oppressive, disgusting even. The walls are greasy; the air is heavy with oil fumes, and even the floor is covered in grime that has built up over years. While her father’s busy running the restaurant below, she’s at the whims of her sadistic and cruel older brother who seems to thrive in this environment.

When Goro hits puberty, he develops severe acne. Over time, however, their disgusting living situation worsens it markedly, transforming his acne into enormous, crater-like pustules. Before long, Goro’s face resembles nothing but a giant crater-landscape.

Eventually Yui realizes just how disturbing a place her home has become. Her father’s business has long been failing, but suddenly starts booming again, after he sells a new type of meat. At the same time, Goro has vanished. The implications are clear, but that’s not the end of the events at play.

What Makes Greased So Good?

The story invokes one and one emotion alone: disgust. Ito does it masterfully; the setting is oppressive, suffocating even. Every surface of Yui’s home, and even she herself, is covered in grease and filth, almost as if there’s no escape from it. Everything sticks, everything reeks, and to us, it all feels wrong.

Greased is a story that switches traditional monsters and the supernatural with filth, bodily decay and the corruption of family bonds. Goro’s horrible transformation upon hitting puberty is a metaphor for how a toxic environment can warp a person beyond recognition. This can especially be seen in his long rant shortly before his death, his hate of society, and him wanting to get revenge on everyone who looks down on him and sees him as disgusting.

Even Yuri changes, but differently. Not only her home and her body seem to be covered in grease, but slowly even her mind begins to warp. Her only solace, watching mount Fuji, dreaming of a better, cleaner existence, changes into a grease-erupting volcano as her mind continues to spiral.

Another point of interest is Ito’s inspiration for the story. While studying at a dental school, he had to sleep on disgusting futons, stained brown from the sweat of former students.

Deeper Themes – Domestic Abuse and the Horror of Decay

Beneath all the filth, Greased is ultimately the story of a dysfunctional family. Their home life is toxic, both literally and figuratively.

Domestic abuse and control are central themes, but also the decay of morality. Goro’s torment of his sister is unrelenting and unchecked, but also a direct result of their living condition. Even worse, their father’s cold, and seems to care more about his failing business than his family. The environment they live in mirrors the psychological horror of parental and social neglect. Layers of grease are coating the home, just as trauma and rot infest those living inside of it.

The body horror here is key, too. The infamous panel of Goro’s ‘crater face’ erupting is one of Ito’s most visceral and disgusting, but it shows more than just physical decay. Goro’s body might be changed by their disgusting living condition, but it’s neglect and self-abuse that twist his mind.

Yet there are other, even deeper metaphors that some readers have spun. Some question if the story is a metaphor for unhealthy eating, obsessive consumption and the effects it has on body and mind. It might be, it might not. What I stand by, however, is that Greased is a metaphor for how toxic environments can literally and figuratively erode both body and soul.

Final Verdict – One of Ito’s Most Viscerally Disturbing Stories

Greased is not subtle, and it doesn’t want to be. It’s gross and disturbing by design. It might lack the deeper cosmic or existential horror of such stories as Long Dream and Enigma at Amigara Fault, but it sticks with you in a different way.

Greased is an excellent entry point for those readers who want to explore Ito’s nastier, more visceral stories, and features some of his most iconic panels.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my review of Long Dream, Uzumaki, or my full ranking of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

Greased is available in Junji Ito’s Shiver collection, available on Amazon.

Among Junji Ito’s many unsettling tales, Long Dream stands out for its unique blend of body horror and existential dread. While many of his stories stayed on my mind, this one holds a special place for its unique exploration of consciousness and the nature of reality.

Plot Overview – Eternal Life in the Realm of Dreams

The story centers on Mami, a young woman hospitalized with a terminal brain tumor. She’s gripped by an intense fear of death. Her terrors grow even worse when she claims death herself visited her room.

Unbeknownst to her, the figure she saw was Tetsuro Mukoda, another patient suffering from a peculiar condition. Whenever he goes to sleep, his dreams extend in duration. At first, they last days, but eventually years and even decades. Upon waking, he even keeps the memories of these prolonged dreams, resulting in profound psychological as well as physical changes.

As Mukoda’s dreams lengthen, his body slowly deteriorates, reflecting the strain his condition has upon his body. When he eventually succumbs to his condition, his body crumbles to dust, leaving behind nothing but mysterious crystals.

Dr. Kuroda, the attending practitioner, sees the potential of the crystals, and administers them to Mami. He believes that this might allow her to escape death by dreaming eternally.

What Makes Long Dream So Good?

Long Dream masterfully combines psychological horror with a profound philosophical question. The concept of experiencing entire lifetimes within a single night is as fascinating as it is terrifying. Mukoda himself outlines certain nights in which he suffered from terrible nightmares that lasted months or even years.

This theme resonated with me deeply, and served as the inspiration for one of my horror stories, The Special Dish.

Ito’s portrayal of Mukoda’s gradual loss of identity and humanity, as well as his confusion upon waking, all underscore the fragility of our perception of reality.

Once again, this story doesn’t stem from external dangers or monsters, but from the internal collapse of the self and the blurring lines between reality and fiction. Mukoda’s final transformation into an unrecognizable, alien being serves as a chilling metaphor for losing touch with the waking world.

Deeper Interpretations – The Illusion of Immortality and the Fear of Oblivion

At its core, Long Dream delves into the human desire to escape death, and the consequences of such pursuits. Mukoda’s condition is nothing but a twisted form of immortality, a mind living in endless dreams, detached from the physical world. This eternal existence, however, becomes a curse, leading to isolation in a prison of his own making, and the eventual erosion of his entire self.

Mami’s initial fear of death is a stark contrast to the horror of Mukoda’s endless dreams. One fears the dread of non-existence, the other the terror of unending consciousness. Dr. Kuroda’s experiment on Mami begs the question of if it’s right to extend someone’s life if it costs them their humanity.

Final Verdict – A Masterpiece of Existential Horror

Long Dream is a story that serves as a profound exploration of the human psyche, morality, and the nature of reality. Junji Ito’s ability to weave complex philosophical themes into horror narratives is unparalleled. The story serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of tampering with the natural order of things, and the unforeseen consequences of our deepest desires.

For those who are intrigued by a compelling mixture of body horror and existential philosophy, Long Dream is a must-read.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my essay in his style and themes, my review of Hanging Balloons, or my extensive list of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

Long Dream is available in Junji Ito’s Shiver collection, available on Amazon.