LIFE AS FICTION > for the love of film / a dequinix.com externality

The Host

2006 / Bong Joon-ho > Much like Cloverfield is an episode of The O.C. with a monster in it, The Host is effectively a family dramedy with a monster in it. The difference between the two, thankfully, is that there is no Marissa Cooper. (If you want to throw in the fact that there are also no backstabbing stepmothers, drunk biological mothers and workaholic adopted mothers, that's also positive, but there is one bad ass archer sister you must yield for.)

Coming on the back of Bong's Memories of Murder, which I believe in some ways is objectively the finest Korean film of the decade, The Host's US$11 million budget was daunting and created enough hype in itself to make people curious what was in tow (especially after Kwak Kyung-taek's miserable failure with Typhoon's US$15 million budget). It didn't disappoint. Featuring a strong cast of Memories of Murder's Song Kang-ho, Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance's Bae Doo-na (the bad ass archer sister) and Rules of Dating's Paek Hae-il, the film brought forth much praise from its premiere at Cannes. How?

It goes back to the premise of being a family dramedy with a monster in it. This, in itself, creates a plot that isn't dependent on the monster, which, much like special effects, should sometimes be a device to further character development and storyline rather than be the focus. Along the way, Bong makes some social commentary on pollution and the American occupation (arguably the movie's weakest points), but tries his best not to forget about the little girl who's sharing the sewer with the monster itself. And the family that pulls together to save her.

The special effects are adequate and not distractive enough to bring into question its quality. The casting/acting is spot on, with every character equally contributing to the problems and solutions (which is key, since family is about sharing). The pacing is just right, the script is often hilarious (such as the brilliant funeral scene), and the resolution works in a manner that satiates viewers without insulting them. And so lamentably, I've haven't seen Korean cinema of this caliber since first catching this at the 2006 New York Film Festival.

Beautiful

2008 / Jeon Jae-hong > A social commentary on the heels of Kim Ki-duk's Time by protege Jeon, Beautiful stars the naturally gorgeous Cha Soo-yeon as a woman who makes everyone drop at her feet. Then an act of tragedy occurs that makes her think twice about what it is that she's flaunting. The script, written by mentor Kim, is undoubtedly trying to tell us something about how superficial the world has become, but isn't this obvious by now? The cliches in the film are blatant, and the exposition sensational. There's something in there, somewhere, that's worth examining further, but the film seems to simply tip toe around it for an hour and a half, acting superior to the audience. Face it: Nobody who watches this ought to discover any new realities of the world afterwards, and if either Kim or Jeon think they're pushing out something revelatory, it's time for them to get their own reality check.

Open City

2008 / Lee Sang-ki > Open City is effectively a showcase for Son Ye-jin and her costume designer. Her dresses are smart and sexy, a couple of things the film completely fails at. It's bad enough that the story centers around pickpocketing gangs, it's even worse than it takes itself so seriously that it never achieves the level of depth or structure necessary to justify its silly premise. It arguably tried to piggyback on the success of Tazza domestically, but fell very short with its superfluous melodrama and undeveloped characters.

Happiness

2007 / Hur Jin-ho > Christmas in August is one of the most subtle yet poignant melodramas I've ever had the pleasure of seeing. The manner in which Hur brought forth the quiet yet powerful emotions of the leading characters was a stellar achievement in Korean filmmaking, but similar to Lee Chang-dong's infuriating effort in Secret Sunshine, Happiness is filled with the kind of manipulative plot advancement that would make Paul Haggis proud. Gone is Hur's gentle, effective touch, and found is a story where each successive sequence increases our dislike of the leading characters who we're supposed to feel pity for. The trick is to realize that good melodrama is not based on pity but rather empathy, and characters who we find to be pathetic are not generally those who we can genuinely empathize with. Happiness is not horrible by any means, but there's a level of anger present when realizing how much Hur's filmmaking is regressing with each passing work.

2007 / Lee Myung-se > It's probably not a stretch of the imagination to call Lee the most visually stunning director in Korea, if not Asia, but there continues to be a disconnect in his storytelling cohesion. The colors, atmosphere and mood are striking in M, but what the movie is supposed to be is hard to tell. The direction keeps on changing, shifting genres with absolute disregard to the viewer. This would, of course, be completely fine if it ended in an understandable manner, but even that rationale is mostly thrown out the door when the credits roll.

Driving With My Wife's Lover

2007 / Kim Tai-sik > Through a meticulously tracked black dramedy, Kim explores adultery through the eyes of both willing and accidental participants. The film's demeanor is understating but effective, often light-hearted in the face of what would generally turn into a violent revenge-fest in similar genre films. While Chungmuro continues to focus on bloated, mediocrity that's being inspired by Hollywood, Driving With My Wife's Lover keeps it simple yet engaging. The story, the pacing and the purposefully flat-footed acting are all spot on in creating the kind of atmosphere one would expect from a setting of illegal intimacy. It's a small gem, having played in Berlin, Sundance and Rotterdam, but one that still has yet to get the notice it deserves.

Secret Sunshine

2007 / Lee Chang-dong > Not sure if being Korea's Minister of Culture and Tourism has somehow taken the edge off of Lee, but Secret Sunshine is a meandering disappointment that fails to take advantage of Jeon Do-yeon's Best Actress-winning performance at Cannes. It is, in many ways, the kind of film that I absolutely abhor: One that presents problems but doesn't offer many plausible solutions.

Human perseverance is always a fantastic topic (as we've seen Frank Darabont make a career out of it), but here the theme is stretched thin with hope nowhere in sight. In Oasis and Peppermint Candy, there was a certain logic to the pain that kept our attention afloat, our minds open and our hearts beating—and then we were rewarded with brave stories of the human condition. But Secret Sunshine lacks such humanity for us to care. Even with Lee's objective incorporation of Christianity as a method of redemption, the protagonist's inherent weakness makes her continuously unlikable, unbearable and, subsequently, leaves the film (and the viewer) without a point to rally around.

Soo

2007 / Sai Yoichi > As a revenge noir, Soo has most of the components under its wings, but nonetheless fails to fly. The characters are simply uncompelling and the storyline continuously absurd. In short, it lacked the panache that drove the success and enjoyment of A Bittersweet Life. I wouldn't be surprised if a little tighter editing could turn this into something a lot more memorable, as its saving grace is its coldness, and that's both unique and worthy of further exploration.

The Old Garden

2007 / Im Sang-soo > It's tough judging a new film by a director who you admire and have the highest expectations for. In that regard, The Old Garden is an undeniable disappointment, as Im lets go of his skillful satire and realism for the typical melodrama that drives most Korean films about relationships. Interesting here is the fact that this relationship is surrounded by history (more specifically, the Gwangju Massacre of 1980), and thus provides a backdrop that is less fluff and more grounded. The central theme rings true (that things change, that you must not put yourself and your sense of duty above those you love), but the full execution comes off rather flat and forced.

Voice of a Murderer

2007 / Park Jin-pyo > It's been quite a while since Korea's had a film worth writing home about, but Park's Voice of a Murderer seems to have passed that test with flying colors. Loosely based on the true story of the kidnapping of a popular anchorman's young son, the film is filled with emotional tension that resonates from the absolute fear of helplessness. What can one do to save one's child if nothing seems to be enough? Thrown amongst the somewhat exaggerated ineptitude of the police, the parents' faith in their beliefs and themselves is questioned, leading to another powerful and memorable performance by my personal favorite Korean actor, Sol Kyung-gu. For Park, this is a less melodramatic follow-up to You Are My Sunshine, but one that shows his maturation with its grittiness and efficiency.

I'm a Cyborg, But That's OK

2006 / Park Chan-wook > It definitely has Park's touch, biting off the color palette and quirkiness that pervades Jeunet's films. But ultimately, it isn't nearly as enjoyable as Oldboy or Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, and falls at the bottom of the feature film list in his catalogue. Nonetheless, it's worth a watch to witness the director's range (although his vignette in If You Were Me is far more impressing on that front), and moreover, a delight to see Im Su-jeong mature and Rain perform better than anyone would have expected from a singer-turned-actor.

200 Pounds Beauty

2006 / Kim Yong-hwa > If you can ignore the horrible international title for the film, 200 Pounds Beauty is quite a bit easier to digest. Part social commentary on plastic surgery and part romantic comedy, its script tries to be a little more innovative than typical fair. But while it doesn't completely succeed, it does have its share of moments that make you cheer. Kim Ah-joong, making her starring debut, is fresh, exciting and beautiful (although lacking the spunk that made her so memorable in When Romance Meets Destiny). Most impressively, she did her own vocals in the film even without any past experience. Ultimately, it's a fun time, though I wouldn't expect it to change anyone's outlook on life.

Tazza: The High Rollers

2006 / Choi Dong-hun > Korea's second highest grossing film of 2006, Tazza comes fresh on the heels of Choi's The Big Swindle, which while predictable for much of the Western audiences, provided a fresh caper story for an underserved Korean audience. (Although here, I would argue that the much ignored Jakarta was more entertaining, if less polished.) Tazza is based on a comic about high stakes professional gamblers who may as well be magicians, and Choi wastes no time in cutting the film into incongruent timelines with twists and turns at every corner. Similar to what Nolan did with The Prestige, there came a time in the film when I basically started expecting the unexpected, so the unexpected became predictable. At nearly 140 minutes, these twists go on a bit longer than they should, almost as if trying to validate the film's seriousness, but that eventually becomes a little tenuous.

What keeps things going, as soon as you see her character Madame Jeong, is Kim Hye-soo's spellbinding performance. Some have attributed the film's success to her on-screen presence, and I imagine they may not be far off. At age 36, the curvaceous beauty continues to light up the cinema as if it were her playground, taking away the limelight from a more than credible performance from Cho Seung-woo. In the end, Tazza fails to add much new to the genre on a global perspective, but does fruitfully entertain those who remain patient.

Woman on the Beach

2006 / Hong Sang-soo > Nobody doubts that the man has skill, but even for Hong, this was a bit of a stretch. It's accessible, yes, but maybe too accessible. There's no nudity (a common, almost uncomfortable thread in his previous works) and the story is surprisingly straightforward—as usual, though, there are many layers you can peel off if you wish, but this one didn't motivate me nearly as much.

Downfall

1997 / Im Kwon-taek > This is not exactly the introduction I expected to Korea's most prolific director, but I imagine it can only get better. Downfall (or Chang) holds an impressive showing by My Wife is a Gangster's Shin Eun-kyung as a naive girl thrown into the world of prostitution at a young age. Piece by piece, we are shown the transformation of a society, an industry as well as a woman over time. Unlike typical films on the subject, Im utilizes his central character as a way to study Korean history, from the days of Park Chung-hee's presidency to the Olympic Games in Seoul. However, Shin's character's journey slowly starts to feel too methodical, and we soon stop empathizing. Together with the fact that it's hard to guess if this is meant to be a social commentary or simply a bystander's view, the film fails to achieve the level of pathos needed to compliment its components.

No Mercy for the Rude

2006 / Park Cheol-hie > Shin Ha-kyun once again takes the role of a deaf-mute (last seen in Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance), only this time he's a contract killer earning money for himself. Under first-time director Park's instruction, the story evolves as a black comedy while not sparing the blood. The action is swift and not the focus, which instead falls on the killer's battle with a speech disability and a woman, played wonderfully by Yun Ji-hye, who somehow becomes a part of his life. Breaking genres, the plot development is a little slow but works effectively leading to an engrossing climax. No Mercy for the Rude is a fresh surprise in what's been a fairly weak and underwhelming year for Korean cinema, and now that The Weinstein Company has picked up the North American distribution rights to the film, it should get the exposure it deserves.

Time

2006 / Kim Ki-duk > In what can arguably be called his safest work to date, Kim spews forth an uneven and somewhat marginalized social commentary on plastic surgery. Ironically, what seems to be the film's strength is the underlying knowledge that Kim likes to surprise and taunt the viewer. Unfortunately, here he fails to meet the level of his previous successes. The characters are by nature weak, and their lack of proper judgment does little to motivate the viewer to care. By the end, the storyline remains shallow, the basic thesis remains overdone, and much of the rhetoric is too obvious for it to be impactful.

A Good Lawyer's Wife

2003 / Im Sang-soo > There are so many layers to Im's A Good Lawyer's Wife that a minimum of two viewings are a must. But even on the first viewing, it's fairly evident that he's created a fine work exploring the status of the modern Korean family, analyzing issues with aging, infidelity, class distinction, adoption and love/loneliness. It's easy to imagine a sophomore film class dissecting the ground beneath the film for a week, pondering exactly what Im intended to say, and what is just a natural consequence of the world he's trying to represent.

Much of this, undoubtedly, is driven by the incredible cast. Of note, as always, is the sheer blistering performance, subtle and true, of Moon So-ri in her portrayal of the title character (for which she won Best Actress at the 2004 Grand Bell Awards). Moreover, I found the film to have some of the most successfully interesting use of music I've ever witnessed: A mixture of upbeat orchestration and mismatched visuals often bringing forth feelings that would generally be hidden away.

I could go on, but it's probably better to just watch it. The combination of Im Sang-soo and Moon So-ri yields a result that ranks atop the ten best Korean films produced this decade, and establishes Im as a cornerstone director of contemporary Korean cinema.

A Dirty Carnival

2006 / Yu Ha > Arguably a casualty of high expectations, Yu Ha's follow up to Once Upon a Time in High School and Marriage is a Crazy Thing ultimately fails to deliver. The first half runs very much like a Scorsese-inspired gangster drama, unfolding with a mixture of monetary issues, family camaraderie and dealings within the hierarchy of a mafia-esquence organization. However, the primary underlying conflict that Yu develops as the film goes on feels a little silly. In progression, problems are created out of thin air even before existing problems are resolved. While succeeding in remaining poetic and refined, A Dirty Carnival is undoubtedly his weakest entry of the decade.

The Power of Kangwon Province

1998 / Hong Sang-soo > It's always a bit hard to talk about Hong's films. His plots are so subtle and delicate that it's almost impossible to say anything without giving away secrets. Moreover, the emotional resonance often comes days and weeks after the first viewing. The Power of Kangwon Province, Hong's second feature film, is no different. While not as agreeable to my heart as Tale of Cinema, he once again dissects the thin border between man and woman, this time outlining a deep and brutal sense of loneliness. As with his other films, the lesson to be learned is a personal one, modified to each viewer's own experiences.

The City of Violence

2006 / Ryu Seung-wan > I imagine that Ryu's intention with The City of Violence may have been to exploit every inch of the martial arts/action genre he could while still having some semblence of plot and character development. And that he did, if barely, but just enough to progress the film towards crazier and more ridiculous fighting sequences. Clocking in at roughly 90 minutes, Ryu doesn't force the Korean convention of the two hour film, but instead keeps it short and sweet. The meat may be thin, but the bones don't break: The City of Violence is the result of every successful director's wet dream.

Family Ties

2006 / Kim Tae-yong > It's probably quite sad that only 200,000 or so Koreans saw this film when it was released in May. But one has to wonder if the horrendous marketing (the posters depict a gleeful, silly family that scream slapstick and cheesy) is to blame. What the populace missed out on, sadly, is a meticulously crafted take on the nuances of family life, generations and how time helps us heal and grow.

The primary reason for its success as a film is its freshness: While there are typical melodrama storylines present, Kim does an excellent job in making sure to not continuously delve into cliches. The dialogue is very true to life, often genuinely comedic and timed just right. It's rare to find a film nowadays where one minute you're in a pit of sadness, and then suddenly you find yourself laughing uncontrollably.

The cast is superb as well. Moon So-ri, the woman who can do no wrong in my book, bounces back from the muddy script in Bewitching Attraction to score an incredible yet subtle performance. Kong Hyo-jin shines as an enigmatic daughter of a dying woman, though the the solidity of the script makes almost every character and actor look good.

It's hard to recall if any film in recent memory has approached the subject matter of family relationships in as intelligently a fashion as this. Kim's portrayal is delicate, fair and realistic. Even the very end, which for a minute or two seems incredibly nonsensical, is surprisingly fitting—That, to me, was proof positive of a great two hours.

I Wish I Had a Wife

2001 / Park Heung-sik > Two of Korea's finest actors (Peppermint Candy's Sol Kyung-gu and Happy End's Jeon Do-yeon) in a romantic comedy? While an interesting setup, the script itself is often flaccid and tries too hard to be anti-mainstream. And that's pretty unfortunate, because it's not often you get actors of this caliber to jump onto a film of this sort. Often quite predictable and drawn-out, I Wish I Had a Wife tries to mimic the pacing and emotion of films such as Christmas in August and Someone Special, but ultimately crumbles into an overwhelmingly mediocre production. Recommended for fans of the actors, but no guarantees for those who like romantic comedies.

Les Formidables

2006 / Cho Min-ho > It's becoming a bad habit: Long, drawn out action flicks from Korea that try to have a deeper meaning, some level of emotion, but ultimately end of being a limp exercise in keeping our interest. To further add to the group we have Les Formidables, a buddy film of sorts, but not really. Unlike Bloody Tie, which showed considerable potential before caving into its own plotline, Les Formidables never truly gets off the ground. We always wait for something to happen, something we haven't seen 6.2 million times before, but that never passes. The proper formula for this and other, similar films: Reduce the superfluous emotional baggage, recut it into ninety minutes, and then maybe we'll have something watchable.

Daisy

2006 / Andrew Lau > What do you get when you combine Infernal Affairs director Andrew Lau with the writer/director Kwak Jae-young of My Sassy Girl? Apparently a love triangle between Jun Ji-hyun, a cop and a contract killer. Having watched the 124 minute director's cut, it's pretty understandable why the Korean audiences didn't initially take on this film: The theatrical cut had much of the initial storyline development shortened into one, tight package that skews the objectivity and thoughtfulness present in the longer version.

The film itself is somewhat slowly paced, but absolutely beautiful (as one should expect). Jun, for once, plays a girl of calm demeanor, which befits her considerably more than the loud, obnoxious teens she's portrayed in films such as My Sassy Girl and Windstruck. Kwak's strength is generally exposition, and in Daisy, his skillful storytelling is highlighted well. It's important to weigh the background plot a little less than the love story itself (which the film does successfully), but inevitably the weakest point of the film is Kwak's inability to avoid a barrage of melodrama in the finale. He's done this before, so it shouldn't be surprising by any means. Taking into effect the flock of unnecessary flashback sequences later in the film, Daisy fails to reach a higher ground—A disappointment, considering how strong a start it had.

My Scary Girl

2006 / Son Jae-gon > With a strong beginning, My Scary Girl hints of something different: a slightly offbeat dark romantic comedy that could stand out from the crowd. As the film goes on, however, the pacing stutters and the introduction of new characters gets messy. Moreover, a lot of the verbal wittiness in the film seems to have been lost in the translation. A great case of contrast would be against last year's Rules of Dating, where the relationship between the primary characters drove the film. Here, unfortunately, there is too much dependence on the gimmick of the girl being a "murderer" and its necessary exposition.

Bloody Tie

2006 / Choi Ho > While promising simply due to its starring duo—Crying Fist's Ryu Seung-beom and You Are My Sunshine's Hwang Jeong-min—Bloody Tie ends up being a bloody mess. The premise is of a semi-crooked detective playing footsies with a dealer-turned-informant in a crystal meth-infested Busan. In theory, this could have unraveled into a terrific action/drama, however the muddiness of the plot, the opaqueness of the characters' motivations and failure of the film to set a consistent tone combines into a rather wasted effort.

Oasis

2002 / Lee Chang-dong > One of the greatest, if not arguably the most unexpected, love stories ever captured on film, Oasis is a tour de force of emotion from one of Korea's finest directors. It's an awkward but endearing tale of discovery between a woman with cerebral palsy and a man, fresh out of jail, who seems to be not completely there. Both Moon So-ri's performance as the woman and Sol Kyung-gu as the man are arguably the best duo seen in Korean film in the last five years.

In direct contrast to Lee's Peppermint Candy, which delved into the psyche of the modern Korean man, here he brings forth the universal ideal that everyone deserves to love and be loved. There are many occassions during the film where it becomes hard, even painful, to watch, but the sense of payoff is grand when the credits roll. Oasis is a true testament to the power of film.

The King and the Clown

2005 / Lee Jun-ik > Nicknamed "The Korean Brokeback," The King and the Clown surprised box office analysts when it became the highest grossing film in Korean history earlier this year. Made for a modest USD$4.5 million, Lee's film draws considerably more parallels to Kaige Chen's epic period drama Farewell My Concubine than it does to its nickname-sake.

The first half of the film is simply brilliant, telling the story of two small-time minstrels who journey to Seoul to escape abuse in the countryside. The first thing one notices is the acting: Marriage is a Crazy Thing's Kam Woo-seong and often underrated Jeong Jin-yeong, who plays the tyrannical king, give two of the strongest performances seen in Korean film since arguably Lee Chang-dong's Oasis. Second is the fact that the performances the minstrels give out in public are absolutely hilarious and thoroughly enjoyable, and that alone takes the film a notch above the ho-hum fanfare that plagues so many period dramas.

Inevitably, however, the film falls into the trap of becoming so incredibly melodramatic halfway through that one has to wonder if the screenplay is to blame or the direction. With the exception of a phenomenal operatic showcase, much of what happens inside the palace in the second half feels superfluous. But with all this being said, The King and the Clown is a must-watch for anyone curious enough to know what one in four people in South Korea took time to visit the theatre for.

Love is a Crazy Thing

2005 / Oh Seok-geun > Mismarketed as a romantic comedy, Love is a Crazy Thing follows the journey of a downtrodden woman with an incompetent husband (whose face we never see), two young sons and a stackload of debt into the wonderful world of Korean "karaoke." Oh does a good job in not getting carried away with sex industry cliches, balancing properly the woman's inner emotions with her outside influences. Played impeccably by Jeon Mi-seon, there's a subtle radiance that grows on her throughout the film. It successfully builds multiple layers around her character and then peels them away. Moreover, the script grounds itself in reality until the climax, so the plausability of the storyline is not questioned until it needs to be. By the end, there is little doubt that the title of the film, unlike its marketing, was indeed on the spot.

The Romance

2006 / Moon Seung-wook > Talk about disappointing: Maybe the reason the film fails to grab a genre (or fuse multiple genres) is because it has four scriptwriters behind it, including the penwoman behind the blockbuster Silmido. Or maybe it's because I expected quite a bit more from newly famed actress Kim Ji-soo and her follow-up to the quiet but engaging This Charming Girl. Whatever it may be, it brings forth the ridiculously annoying trend in Korean cinema where there's a 180° turn smackdab in the middle of the film. Is this really necessary? Can you not be a little more skillful in pacing your film and story development? I could understand doing this once in a while if it wasn't so common in an industry, but the technique runs rampant in the land of kimchi. And that's just rotten, as Kim and Kim Ki-duk veteran Jo Jae-hyeon were putting on quite a show until the lights went out.

The Customer is Always Right

2006 / Oh Ki-hyun > There's a very interesting concept hidden in this otherwise cliche'd film about blackmail. In a way it's a gimmick, but one that could be utilized to perfection by a director with a different approach. Moreover, don't avoid watching this film because of its posters: They're deceivingly comic and unfitting to the feel and sense of the film.