Incomplete Chairs

The Most Performative Chair You’ll Ever Sit In.

I have to admit I’ve never really thought about the chairs industry, and honestly, who does?

Yes, it’s a tool we use every day—we sit on them going to work, at work, while eating, drinking, chatting… but unless you’re passionate about this kind of design, you don’t really stop to think about the artist behind it.

And let me tell you, after watching “Incomplete Chairs,” you probably will look at them differently.

The first thing that comes to mind when getting into the movie is that this feels like a Japanese version of “American Psycho.” Shinsuke Kujo is a charismatic and psychotic protagonist, whose coldness and meticulous control over his violent tendencies evoke Patrick Bateman.

Both characters work as a satire of status and artistic elitism, but Kujo is tied more to vigilante justice than any real talent.

“Incomplete Chairs” portrays a subtle satire about the chairs industry, but beneath its absurd premise lies a body-horror comedy that critiques the hypocrisy of social media and the art world.

Through the actions of a serial killer, it pushes this idea of how ridiculous it is to constantly pretend to be someone you are not.

Because we know the creative world and social media are a stage. Not only for talented people, but also for the insecure ones, or those who need validation and end up building a performative persona.

Influencer culture, once almost admired, slowly becomes something more fragile and hollow, shattering into anonymity while still insisting on performance, often at the expense of artistic authenticity.

In “Incomplete Chairs,” the chair industry becomes the tool through which Kenichi Ugana (the director) explores revenge as a purpose and a performative identity. So the intention behind Kujo’s actions can, in some way, be translated to all arts… or not.

But who is the killer, and why does he kill people to make a chair? No big spoiler here, don’t worry.

Shinsuke Kujo, played by Ryu Ichinose, is a very charismatic and creepy artist who wants to create a chair using body parts from the people he kills, simply because they like chairs… or at least that’s what the premise of the movie suggests. But we know underneath a simple reason there is always a layered narrative.

Kujo is calm and meticulous in hiding his violent nature, and every conversation he has with his potential victims is controlled and manipulative. His inner turmoil finds a perfect balance without looking cartoonish.

The result is a completely surreal narrative that never even bothers with the concept of logic, and instead wants nothing more than to make you laugh while possibly reflecting on your own social behaviour.

Ugana’s direction uses a very cold, sterile and clinical visual style, editing, and cinematography. From the opening, the feeling is not of being inside an artist’s atelier, but in a surgery room.

The colours shift into more vivid but still threatening tones during the night scenes where Kujo is out from his torture room.

Even if you feel a sense of safety, the lighting of the bars and the city still reminds you that he is there, watching and waiting for the right moment to attack. It all sticks together in a grotesque and absurd visual tone.

“Incomplete Chairs” is not flawless. It could have pushed a bit harder on the gore moments, and at times it risks monotony.

But overall it is a well-written and directed sharp critique of a society obsessed with duality that perfectly captures a living nightmare made of money, ego, and revenge.