I’ve been a fan of Junji Ito’s work for almost two decades, but Uzumaki will always hold a special place in my heart. It’s not just one of his most famous works, but one of the greatest horror manga ever created. Uzumaki is a towering achievement in the realm of horror manga for how deeply unsettling, but also how creative it is.

A Town Spiraling Into Madness

Uzumaki is set in the small, coastal town of Kurouzu-cho which falls victim to the terrifying and omnipotent curse of the spiral.

At first, the spiral’s influence appears random and almost inconspicuous: whirlpools in the river, odd patterns forming naturally, or spirals appearing in people’s hair. Yet even from the outset, we can feel a foreboding sense of unease that should reach its climax at the end of Uzumaki’s very first chapter. From here on out, the spiral’s influence intensifies in disturbing way, and grotesque transformations become commonplace.

Each incident feels isolated at first, but before long, Kirie Goshima and Shuichi Saitou, Uzumaki’s protagonists, realize a horrifying pattern. All the madness at play in Kurouzu-cho is related to one another, and the spiral’s not the result, but its cause, a destructive, inescapable force.

What Makes Uzumaki So Good?

The true brilliance of Uzumaki lies in its conceptual horror. There are no monsters here, no feasible antagonists, and no traditional villains to confront. There is only an antagonistic force in the shape of the spiral. It’s an idea made flesh, one that turns into an inescapable force that spells doom for all who encounter it.

Each chapter builds on this concept, showcasing the continued influence of the spiral in more and more ways that are as disturbing as they are inventive. For long stretches, Uzumaki’s almost an anthology of spiral related horror stories, witnessed by Kirie and Shuichi.

Junji Ito’s imagination is in full bloom here. People are being twisted into spiral shaped monstrosities, the wonder of childbirth is made nightmare, and an entire town is warped into a mad, spiral-shaped maze. The creativity on display is unmatched. Every new event feels not only visually distinct and unsettling but also ramps up the dread with each consecutive chapter.

Visual and Existential Horror

Its artwork in Uzumaki is among the best, if not the best, of his entire career. His stark black-and-white contrast helps capture the creeping, claustrophobic dread that lingers over Kurouzu-cho, showing that the town’s been doomed from the story’s outset.

His detailed illustrations bring terror to life not only through grotesque transformations and gore but also through his characters’ expressions. Sometimes people appear dejected and stare blankly at others. Sometimes their eyes widen and their faces distort as they are plunged into madness or lose their grip on reality.

Beyond the visceral horror, Uzumaki strikes at something deeper, however: existential horror. The spiral isn’t feasible. It’s not so much a conscious entity with a plan, but an indifferent, cosmic phenomenon. This Lovecraftian theme of humanity’s powerlessness against vast, incomprehensible forces is the heart of Uzumaki’s horror.

Some Weaknesses Worth Mentioning

The episodic structure of the first two volumes helps to build an atmosphere of dread and showcases the spiral’s influence around town. However, it feels almost too much like an anthology, and makes it hard to get invested with any of the characters appearing, and lessens the emotional impact of their demise.

Kirie Goshima, our main character, is almost too passive. She appears nothing more than a witness to the events at play. Perhaps she’s nothing but another helpless victim, or has been under the curse of the spiral since the story’s outset. Yet this is a common problem with Ito’s protagonists. They are less traditional characters with an agency of their own, but more vessel or stand-in for the reader to provide them with a point-of-view to witness the madness at play.

The third and last problem is the manga’s ending. While I found it satisfying, it also tries to give readers a loose explanation of what the spiral curse actually is. This can diminish the sense of mystery that so dominated the earlier chapters. Once again, horror often works best when the unknown stays unknown.

Final Verdict – A Hypnotic Horror Masterpiece

Uzumaki stands apart from other titles as one of the greatest horror manga ever made. While it features copious amounts of gore and jump scares, its horror centers on dread, inevitability, and the terrifying beauty of cosmic forces beyond our understanding.

If you’re a fan of horror manga, of Lovecraftian fiction, or the more surreal and bizarre realm of horror, Uzumaki is an absolute must-read.

Prepare yourself for one of the strangest, most nightmarish journeys horror fiction has to offer.

Looking for more Junji Ito horror? Explore my complete ranking of the 40 best Junji Ito Stories, my favorite 5 Uzumaki chapters, or my essay on Junji Ito’s style and themes.

Uzumaki is available in a beautiful omnibus edition, collecting all three volumes into one.

I’ve been reading Junji Ito’s works for years now, and I recently came to appreciate Hanging Balloons much more than ever before. It’s, in my opinion, one of Ito’s absolute best stories. It’s deeply disturbing, bizarre, surreal, and absurd, more so than almost any other horror manga.

Plot Overview – The Beginning of a Comically Absurd Apocalypse

The story is told from Kazuko’s perspective and begins with the tragic death of her best friend Terumi, a popular idol. Her death is nothing short of horrific. She’s found outside her apartment, dangling from a noose made of metal, haphazardly wrapped around electrical wires.

From here on out, Hanging Balloons appears to be a simple ghost story. For Temuri’s boyfriend, Shiorishi, states he can see her ghost drifting around the city. Yet there’s something odd about his story. It’s not her full figure, but only a giant floating replica of her head.

Before long, others notice the weird phenomena as well. At first, it’s blamed on hallucinations or mass hysteria. When photographs show up, however, a horrifying reality sets in. Temuri’s floating head is real.

Soon Kazuko bears witness for what’s yet to come. More and more floating heads appearing the sky, all bearing a person’s face, and flying towards them with a noose hanging below. The result is always the same horrific display: a person hung by their own image.

Yet there’s even more danger at hand. Fighting the balloons off won’t work, because if the balloons destroyed, the person they represent will die as well. Thus, all you can do is hide from its relentless approach, but it soon becomes clear that resistance seems all but futile.

What Makes it So Good?

The premise is absurd on paper, but in execution Junji Ito’s Hanging Balloons turns into pure nightmare fuel.

The story’s pacing is masterful. The story starts slowly, almost grounded, before turning into surreal horror. The gradual escalation of the plot makes it so good, and its final scene so much more chilling.

Another reason it works so well is Ito refusing to explain anything. Similarly to works like The Enigma of Amigara Fault or Army of One, the mystery is left intact. We never learn what the balloons are, where they came from or why they exist. The horror remains entirely unknown.

Deeper Interpretations – Idol Culture and the Death Drive

While Hanging Balloons is an excellent story on its own, it’s possible to look at it through a more psychological lens.

In the late 1999s, Japan faced a surge in suicide rates, especially amongst young adults. Suicides amongst public figures, such as idols, were highly publicized. In Japanese culture, idols represent purity and idealized youth. Their deaths often caused emotional shockwaves, and sometimes even copycat suicides amongst their fans.

Viewed this way, Junji Ito’s Hanging Balloons could be seen as an interpretation of the dark sides of idol culture and the contagious effect of public tragedy. Terumi’s death is public, tragic, and afterwards, death keeps spreading, almost like a social or psychological virus.

Each person is haunted by a balloon bearing their own face, which can be seen as a symbol of their internal despair. Once Terumi dies, others begin seeing death as inevitable, personal, inescapable, or even fascinating.

On a deeper psychological level, this mirrors Sigmund Freud’s concept of the death drive (Todestrieb), our unconscious urge towards self-destruction. The balloons externalize this drive. They aren’t random threats. Instead, they represent the characters’ own death, and their fascination with it, seeking them out.

Of course, Junji Ito itself leaves everything unexplained. But these layers of ambiguity, horror mixed not only with psychological but also culture and existential themes, make Hanging Balloons so much more fascinating.

Final Verdict – A Surreal Masterpiece

Hanging Balloons is one of Ito’s finest stories. It’s a blend of surreal, apocalyptic horror with absurdity and existential despair. It’s not just a scary story, but one that gnaws at you in a variety of ways, but without ever giving a clear explanation.

If you haven’t read it yet, I highly recommend you check out this surreal, absurd, and most of all, nightmarish masterpiece.

Looking for More Junji Ito Horror? Explore my complete ranking of the 40 Best Junji Ito Stories.

You can find Hanging Balloons in Junji Ito’s horror collection Shiver, available on Amazon.