Blue Light Yokohama

A detective with a troubled past plus a serial killer are often ingredients for a been-there-done-that thriller. Not so with Obregón's tense, atmospheric Tokyo-set debut, which pulses with a dark energy all its own. Newly reinstated homicide cop Iwata is partnered with another inspector who makes it clear that she wants nothing to do with him (and neither does the Tokyo brass). Luckily, or not, the pair soon catch a gruesome case that requires their full attention: the murder of an entire family with ritualistic overtones, the particularly strange symbol of a black sun left at the crime scene. The victims had held a plethora of secrets, none of them good. A stalker had the teenage daughter in (presumably) his sights. The father was being harassed at work. And the killer isn't done. Iwata suffers from his own private torment—from nightmares that plague the little sleep he gets—to the near-constant repetition of the titular song in his head.