The large Japanese Family Scared Me

I first came across Psycho: The Large Family on YouTube through a video published by the channel ScareTheater. Known for its focus on internet horror, obscure mysteries, and eerie found-footage analysis, the channel often examines unsettling or ambiguous media that blur the line between fiction and reality. Initially presented as a straightforward documentary, this particular film stood out due to its subtle shifts in tone and structure. As the narrative unfolded, it became increasingly apparent that Psycho: The Large Family was not a traditional documentary, but rather a mockumentary. What seemed at first like an intimate look into a troubled household gradually revealed itself to be something far more disturbing.

When I first watched Psycho: The Large Family, I didn’t know what I was getting into. What started as an almost mundane documentary about a chaotic but oddly lovable Japanese family ended up spiralling into something deeply unsettling. There are no jump scares, no exaggerated reveals, and yet by the time the credits rolled, I had chills. And once I started reading the comments and rewatching key moments, I realized this mockumentary was hiding something seriously messed up in plain sight.

The film follows the Ura family, a massive household with over ten children, all living under one roof in an aging countryside home. It’s filmed documentary-style by a woman named Veronica, who gradually becomes entangled in the family's daily dramas and eerie secrets. The tone starts light, even wholesome at times. Veronica interviews the kids, follows the parents around, and captures footage of meals, playtime, hospital visits, and family outings. But over time, cracks begin to show.

Early on, one of the daughters, Apple (later revealed to be Ringo), is missing from the household. The dad, seemingly kind and passive, tries repeatedly to convince her to come home. When he finally finds her in Yokohama, her body language says it all. She doesn’t want to be found. Eventually, she breaks down. We learn she didn’t leave entirely by choice—she took on a boyfriend’s debt and ended up trapped in a disturbing line of work. Dad ends up pulling money from his retirement to pay off her $50,000 debt, and Ringo returns home. Meanwhile, the family deals with a series of unsettling events. Ryuta, one of the younger sons, falls from the second story and is hospitalized. A younger daughter, Ron, had also previously been in a bike accident. Then there’s Goki, the reclusive eldest son who never leaves his room. When we finally see him, it’s a major shock—his presence had felt almost ghostly until that point.

R, a teenage daughter, is the only one openly hostile toward the stepdad. She attacks him multiple times. But in a climactic moment, Dad finally stands up to her and says he’s the father now. Later, he finds her alone on a bridge and apologizes. She breaks down, revealing she couldn’t understand why he’d want to be part of such a messed-up family. Then things seem to get better. The kids warm up to Dad. The family goes on a trip. Goki joins them. Veronica narrates with a sort of happy-final-episode-of-a-reality-show tone. It feels like the end.

But then we get the real ending.

Filming had supposedly wrapped, but an unexpected accident drew Veronica and her team back. The mother had fallen off a cliff and ended up in a coma. Veronica returns to find the kids playing like nothing happened. The mom is gone. Ringo is preparing food again. Veronica asks about a powder she’s using to season the meat. She says it’s kelp. The film ends quietly, almost abruptly. We’re left with the sense that something never added up.

And that’s when the real horror starts to creep in.

Let’s talk about the mom.

There’s something seriously off about her. On first watch, she seems overwhelmed, even likable. She’s caring for a huge family and juggling trauma from her supposedly missing husband. But once you notice the hints, it gets hard to see her the same way. Like the way she scolds the kids for playing near the vegetable garden. Or the extended shots of her smiling while gardening, her expression frozen and uncanny.

And then there’s the insurance.

It turns out the missing husband was declared legally dead after seven years, allowing the mom to remarry and cash in on his life insurance. There’s even a scene where one of the kids is doing homework and tells Veronica he’s studying "hoken" – a word that can mean insurance or health. It’s weirdly specific. One commenter pointed out that you can even see insurance paperwork in a shot near the mom. And this isn’t just a stretch – the film goes out of its way to show us that money from the insurance was supposed to fund the family’s move.

But mom doesn’t want to move.

Why? Because if you have a body buried in the vegetable garden, you’re not exactly itching to relocate.

Still, nothing is ever said outright. Instead, you get imagery. Like the fruit basket. After Ryuta’s accident, we see a basket of fruit with two knives stuck into it – one in a lemon, one in a dragon fruit. Later, there are even more knives. That might seem random, until you realize Ringo means Apple, Ron is a loanword for lemon, and Ryuta’s name can be written with the kanji for "dragon." It's ridiculously on the nose, which is what makes it so chilling.

Also: the mom is seen eavesdropping during the kids' interviews. Literally standing in doorways or behind curtains, listening in while they talk about their missing dad. She’s making sure they don’t say too much. There’s even a moment during Ryuta’s fall when she can be seen in a second-story window. Blink and you’ll miss it. But she’s there.

So did she push him?

And what about Goki? The writing on his walls is a whole other rabbit hole. One piece says "psycho death." Another seems to say "mother is the best," which in Japanese can double as "mother is psycho." Combine that with the title of the film—Psycho: The Large Family – and it starts feeling less like a coincidence and more like a desperate cry for help.

And yet, we can’t ignore the possibility that some of the older kids were in on it. Ringo, for one, makes Dad food seasoned with mystery powder. Don, one of the younger kids, mentions that it was a dish the previous dad loved. And the cat, Enrique. Mom immediately cuts him off.

Was it poison? Is Ringo complicit? Was she trying to finish what Mom started?

Then there’s Goki’s sudden reappearance on the family trip. The same trip where Mom later falls off a cliff. He doesn’t return to the house for the rest of the film. Ringo, earlier shown whispering to him, might have convinced him to act. Maybe they saw their chance to free the family. Give mom a taste of her own medicine.

And yet, there’s always the ghost photograph. Around the midpoint, Veronica and the family start attributing their misfortunes to a cursed photo. It feels like a misdirect, maybe even a joke. But it's played with such straight-faced seriousness that you wonder: are we really dealing with a curse? Or is the curse a smokescreen for something worse?

Psycho: The Large Family never shows its hand. You finish the film feeling like you just escaped a haunted house, only to realize the real horror was that you were never safe to begin with. In the end, what you make of the Ura family is entirely up to you. Maybe the mom is a grieving widow just trying to hold her life together. Maybe she’s a monster who systematically picked off the men and children who got in her way. Maybe Ringo and Goki took justice into their own hands. Or maybe it really is a curse.

The film never says. The sequel to the series answers many of those questions, I think, but I'll get to that after Im done shivering.