A Page of Madness (Japan, 1926)

So many horror films come out every year that I could easily just fill up my October Horror Movie Challenge with interesting new releases. I do try to resist the temptation, however, and like include some older films in my line-up. The problem is that I’ve been watching horror films for over 50 years now and I’ve seen most of the classics. So when I was digging through some of the many articles online about the best horror films of all time, A Page of Madness jumped out as one I’d never even heard of.

Now, having seen it, I’m not sure if I’d categorise A Page of Madness as horror. Even so, it has as much gothic atmosphere as many other silent horror films, and some scenes are certainly nightmarish. At the very least, it is an interesting piece of cinematic history.

If you are going to watch A Page of Madness, I would beseech you to read the Wikipedia article first for reasons I shall explain in the General Thoughts section below.

A Page of Madness is currently available on YouTube.

Synopsis

Our unnamed protagonist works as a custodian at an austere psychiatric hospital in Japan. He is apparently obsessed with a female patient, who is later revealed to be his wife. She was institutionalised after he abandoned her for long periods while he was working as a sailor, and she struggled with the isolation.

Now, unbeknownst to their daughter, the custodian has taken this job so that he can be closer to his wife. The daughter is shocked when she learns all this, and it puts further strain on her already tense relationship with her father.

When a fellow patient hits his wife, the custodian gets into a fight to protect her. This leads the head doctor to discipline him, sending him into a spiral of guilt and delusion, losing himself in often violent fantasies.

General Thoughts

Watching A Page of Madness is one of the stranger cinematic experiences I’ve had, and it wasn’t until I read the Wikipedia page afterwards that I understood why. Most silent films include interstitial cards to relay dialogue or explain key plot points. When none came up in this film, I wondered if they’d been removed because they hadn’t been translated from Japanese, or if there just wasn’t any dialogue at all and the story was meant to be told in pantomime. I persevered regardless, deciding to experience the film as it was presented.

Well, this turned out to be a mistake on my part. As the Wikipedia article for the film explains, there was live narration at the original showings, provided by a performer known as a benshi. These orators would act out dialogue and explain key points of the story to the audience. Watching the film without this additional material is a baffling experience, but still an interesting one. Even so, I would heartily recommend reading the full synopsis on Wikipedia beforehand if you plan to see the film yourself.

It’s hard not to compare A Page of Madness to The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari, which was made some six years before. They both deal with asylums and delusions in very different ways, using avant-garde techniques for their time to create a sense of unease. While Caligari is a much more stylised film, and leans more heavily into horror tropes, A Page of Madness is every bit as tense.

Verdict

A Page of Madness is not an easy film. While reading the synopsis will help, I suspect it is no substitute for having a narrator bring the story to life. Combined with the distance one feels when watching a film from a hundred years ago, this is an alienating experience. The film is only just over an hour long, but I can still imagine it taxing many viewers’ patience.

Even so, I would recommend A Page of Madness for anyone interested in classic cinema. It is not only a fascinating example of silent film, but it uses techniques I would not normally associate with the time. The opening sequence, in particular, uses almost frenetic editing, with lots of quick cuts of a storm interspersed with a woman dancing, to disorientate us and create a sense of turmoil. Double exposures, Dutch angles, and cross-fades combine with the distortions of mirrors and lenses to create a hallucinatory experience.

Even when the film is not trying to knock us off-balance, the minimalist sets, stark lighting, and use of masks are unsettling. Some of the scenes could come from David Lynch’s Eraserhead. While the story isn’t always gripping, and the pace does slacken after the intensity of the opening, there is rarely a moment where the visual spectacle fails to engage.

All in all, I would hesitate to recommend A Page of Madness to most people, but if you have an interest in strange, forgotten moments of cinema, or simply want to watch something unique, you could certainly find worse ways to spend an hour.

The October Horror Movie Challenge

Please do join in and share your own thoughts with us about this or any other films as the month goes on. You can usually find us on BlueSky, Reddit, Discord, or lurking in the dark corners of your home.

If you would like to play along at home, my provisional selections are:

Heretic (USA, 2024)
The Sadness (Taiwan, 2021)
The Uninvited (USA, 1944)
The Lodge (UK/USA, 2019)
WolfCop (Canada, 2014)
Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (Czechoslovakia, 1970)
The Monkey (USA, 2025)
Sister Midnight (India/UK, 2024)
Roadgames (Australia, 1981)
Nightmare City (Italy, 1985)
Dangerous Animals (Australia, 2025)
Dead Talents Society (Taiwan, 2024)
Winterbeast (USA, 1992)
Byzantium (UK/Ireland, 2013)
The Ugly Stepsister (Norway, 2025)
A Page of Madness (Japan, 1926)
Heart Eyes (USA, 2025)
Grafted (New Zealand, 2024)
Arrebato (Spain, 1979)
Hatching (Finland, 2022)
Abigail (USA, 2024)
Ganja & Hess (USA, 1973)
The Devil’s Bath (Austria, 2025)
Pieces (Spain, 1982)
Infested (France, 2023)
Best Wishes to All (Japan, 2022)
A Cat in the Brain (Italy, 1990)
Enys Men (UK, 2022)
Creature From the Black Lagoon (USA, 1954)
Perewangan (Indonesia, 2024)
Bring Her Back (Australia, 2025)

A Final Note

If you have been enticed here by these posts, please do look around at some of our other film reviews. We also have a podcast, called The Good Friends of Jackson Elias, which occasionally covers horror films. If this appeals, you might want to check out some of the following episodes.