‘UZUMAKI’ (2024) Netflix Series Review - A Whirlwind of Horror and Hypnotic Chaos

“Uzumaki,” Netflix’s latest horror adaptation of Junji Ito’s classic manga, feels like peering into a void—beautifully illustrated, oddly mesmerizing, and deeply unnerving. This four-episode animated series reimagines Ito's twisted tale of spirals overtaking the town of Kurouzu-cho. From its black-and-white aesthetic to its ambitious storytelling, "Uzumaki" lures you into a spiral of dread and curiosity that is hard to shake.

The story begins with Kirie Goshima, an ordinary high schooler, and Shuichi Saito, her stoic boyfriend, who slowly realizes their small town is being consumed—physically and psychologically—by spirals. The manifestations start subtly: swirling patterns in nature, spirals in objects, and obsessive behaviors in townspeople. But as the episodes progress, the spirals take on grotesque, reality-bending forms that range from horrifying to outright absurd. If you’re new to Junji Ito, be warned—this is not your typical monster horror. It’s more like Kafka meets Lovecraft in a blender of surreal nightmare logic.

Visually, "Uzumaki" is a bold experiment. The black-and-white animation pays homage to Ito's original manga, capturing its stark, intricate line work. Every frame feels carefully composed, often resembling a still image from the manga itself. This stylistic choice creates an otherworldly atmosphere that makes the horror elements hit harder. The spirals are alive in this show—crawling, pulsating, and haunting the edges of every scene. The art direction is so meticulous that even mundane objects feel infused with menace.

However, this high bar of visual quality isn’t sustained throughout. While the first episode impresses with its cinematic fluidity, later episodes falter. Animation inconsistencies—such as awkward character movements or rushed sequences—occasionally disrupt the immersive experience. Episode two, in particular, suffers from a noticeable drop in quality, a point that fans of the manga are unlikely to overlook.

The pacing is another double-edged sword. With only four episodes to adapt a sprawling, episodic manga, the series struggles to find balance. Some episodes rush through pivotal moments, sacrificing tension and atmosphere. Key subplots, like the tragic fate of Shuichi’s parents or the town’s descent into collective madness, feel truncated. That said, the series compensates by delivering unforgettable set pieces. Whether it’s the spiraling body horror of a contorted human or a chilling encounter with a spiral vortex, the show knows how to leave an impression.

What truly elevates “Uzumaki” is its sound design. The eerie score, composed of dissonant strings and low droning hums, amplifies the creeping dread. The soundscape feels alive—every rustle of leaves, distant whispers, or the rhythmic thud of spirals burrowing into objects adds another layer of unease. The voice acting, particularly in Japanese, captures the escalating panic and resignation of the townsfolk, pulling you deeper into their despair.

Yet, “Uzumaki” isn’t perfect, and that’s part of its charm. The story’s unapologetically strange premise won’t appeal to everyone. If you’re expecting neatly explained horrors or satisfying resolutions, you’ll be left spiraling in frustration. The show thrives on its ambiguity, leaving viewers to interpret the madness in their own way.

For all its flaws—rushed pacing, uneven animation, and the challenges of condensing Ito’s sprawling narrative—“Uzumaki” is a rare breed of horror. It’s unsettling, hypnotic, and occasionally absurd, delivering moments of grotesque beauty that stay with you long after the credits roll. The series is both a tribute to Ito’s genius and a testament to how difficult it is to translate his work into motion.

“Uzumaki” may not be the definitive adaptation fans dreamed of, but it’s an intriguing experiment that captures the spirit of the manga. For horror enthusiasts or anyone curious about Junji Ito’s work, it’s worth the watch—just don’t be surprised if you’re left with more questions than answers. After all, spirals never truly end; they only draw you deeper.

Final Score- [6.5/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times