Showing posts with label Country: South Korea. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Country: South Korea. Show all posts
REVIEW: DVD Release: Mother
Film: Mother
Release date: 20th September 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 129 mins
Director: Bong Joon-ho
Starring: Kim Hey-ja, Won Bin, Ku Jin, Yoon Jae-moon, Jun Mi-sun
Genre: Crime/Drama/Mystery/Thriller
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country: South Korea
Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-ho is no stranger to the time honoured and complex themes of murder and family dysfunction, as attested in his previous work: the brutal police procedural Memories Of Murder (2003) and – perhaps better known – the monster-movie adventure The Host (2006). His newest work, Mother – South Korea’s official submission for the Foreign Language Oscar at the 82nd Academy Awards – sets out to combine these two thematic strands.
The story focuses on the eponymous Mother (played by Kim Hye-ja), a humble herb seller and unlicensed acupuncturist who is very protective over her simple-minded adult son Yoon Do-joon (Bin Won) who regularly finds himself in trouble when following the lead of his reckless, troublemaking friend Jin-tae (Goo Jin).
When Yoon is the victim of a minor hit and run incident with a passing Mercedes, Jin-tae decides to follow the car to exact revenge, leading them to an exclusive golf club; the lackadaisical and forgetful Yoon content to collect lost golf balls in the shallows of a lake as they search the grounds. When the driver – a man of certain importance plus his entourage – are found, a scuffle occurs on the green.
Frustrated over the whole saga, and his Mother bailing him out of trouble with the police, Yoon Do-joon arranges to meet with Jin-tae at a bar for drinks. Jin-tae doesn’t show and Yoon proceeds to get heavily inebriated.
On his drunken walk home, he tries to strike up a conversation with a young girl walking alone towards an abandoned house but has no success. The girl is found dead the next day; half hanging off the roof of the abandoned building. A golf ball with Yoon’s name self scribed on it found at the crime scene, combined with Yoon’s hazy recollection of what happened that evening, places him under arrest as the murderer. Convinced of his innocence, Yoon’s mother goes on a mission to find the real killer…
Assuming the role of detective, Kim Hye-ja’s Mother character makes for an endearing and unique perspective on what could’ve quite easily been a rather flat and pedestrian slice of murder/mystery escapism. However, in director Bong Joon-ho’s hands, Mother eschews many of the drab clichés and narrative traits that usually sentences most work from an otherwise overcrowded genre to the realms of mediocrity, and manages to create something that’s engrossing (for the most part), touching and laced with typical Korean-style dark humour.
To start, Kim Hye-ja’s performance as the film’s titular hero is simply a pleasure to behold. Her quietly expressive nature allows her to walk a fine and difficult line between being a strong and dignified individual who is also a flawed and vulnerable creature. It is a performance that is so integral to the execution of the overall work that for it to be anything less than good would greatly diminish the film’s impact. Fortunately, this is not the case. Supporting performances are also fine. Bin Won’s Yoon Do-joon is able to play simple without resorting to merely playing dumb, a performance that keeps his character’s motivations unpredictable and fresh; Goo Jin’s shadier Jin-tae is also given plenty to do.
While the mystery itself is not particularly spectacular, that’s hardly the film’s concern. Mother is a film about the bond between a mother and son, made strong by a fatherless and borderline poverty stricken family situation; a bond that’s pushed to the outer limits. As the mother’s investigation develops – refreshingly playing down on the usual modus operandi of simply moving from one red herring to another – she begins to discover the lengths she’ll go to in order to clear her son’s name lending to some very touching moments, especially when their troubled past begins to re-enter Yoon’s otherwise unreliable memory. Interestingly, Yoon seems to get on fine without his mother, which, if anything, reflects on her disposition, and suggests that maybe she is the one who needs him.
Bong Joon-ho cuts back on the fun and dynamism of his previous effort The Host to create something which is sombre and mature, but it’s not without a sense of humour - the film’s opening crane shot sees the mother trudging through a field in the countryside towards camera before doing a little dance as the opening credits gently fade onto screen. A concept that re-emerges in the film’s final moments, but this time underpinned with newfound resonance and meaning.
Park Eun-kyo and Park Wun-kyo’s screenplay (co-written with Bong Joon-ho) unfortunately, doesn’t deeply explore the film’s complex and dark central relationship, choosing to make light of the unusually close, almost incestuous bond instead. Both characters share the same bed for instance, prompting raised eyebrows from many interstitial characters. Another moment sees the mother bringing a bowl of medicine for her son to consume as he urinates against the wall of a building while waiting for the bus. The mother offers said medicine after she takes a prolonged look at Yoon’s crotch as he relieves himself, with Yoon continuing as he drinks.
The film’s direction and camerawork is certainly indebted, if only slightly, to past suspense vendors such as Alfred Hitchcock, although, having said that, Mother never generates heaps of tension; an incident that sees the mother silently creeping past a sleeping suspect is about as close as the film gets to anything suspenseful. However, this playing with audience expectation is perhaps Mother’s strongest asset. Bong Joon-ho throws plenty of curveballs, creating an air of uncertainty, which is paramount for the murder/mystery genre; you’re never quite sure what’s going to happen next. Yoon’s arrest turns into a strangely funny moment when the police car is caught in a traffic accident a quarter of a mile down the road. Incidentally, a darker moment sees the mother paying Jin-tae to beat up high-schoolers who may know something about her son’s supposed murder victim. On the flipside, this uncertainty also means that the film feels like its going off course sometimes, but manages to regroup before the end credits.
Despite interest wavering slightly during the second act, Mother is a fine meld of contemporary Korean drama and classic mystery movie and wins, mainly because of Kim Hye-ja’s wonderfully balanced central performance, but also because of its emotional simplicity, leading to a beautifully bittersweet denouncement. Those concerned that Bong Joon-ho was crossing over to pursue box office domination as hinted in The Host can rest assured, Mother is a quietly clever and entertaining work - and comes recommended. MP
REVIEW: DVD Release: Time

Film: Time
Release date: 23rd August 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 97 mins
Director: Kim Ki-duk
Starring: Ha Jung-woo, Park Ji-yeon, Jang Jun-yeong, Jung Gyu-woon, Kim Ji-heon
Genre: Drama/Romance
Studio: Palisades Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: South Korea
Award-winning (Berlin and Venice Film Festivals for Samaritan Girl and 3-Iron respectively) Korean director Kim Ki-duk flirts with controversy once more as he invites his audience to examine a world of unhealthy obsession, narcissistic tendencies and the violence of manufactured beauty, in a film only screened in his homeland after 10,000 South Koreans signed up to an online protest, thus forcing a limited art house release.
Sehie (Park Ji-yeon) is a beautiful, yet extremely insecure and jealous woman, who feels that her long term relationship with Jiwoo (Ha Jung-woo) is growing stale. With each passing day she believes that her beauty is fading while the other women Jiwoo comes into contact with during his normal mundane life are more interesting and considerably better looking than her.
Despite her relatively contented boyfriend’s protests, she persists with her paranoid thoughts and accusations, verbally abusing waitresses and cafe customers at the local cafe, the couple’s regular meeting spot. From a mind bordering on the psychotic, an idea is hatched as Sehie realises that something drastic needs be done to stop the situation escalating to such a degree that she will lose the love of her life forever.
After secretively consulting with a plastic surgeon, Sehie books herself into a clinic and begins the painful six month procedure that will completely reshape her face and, hopefully, achieve a higher level of beauty. Jiwoo is distraught at her sudden disappearance, he devotes time and effort searching high and low for his girlfriend, but, eventually, he admits defeat. Gradually, as his pain lessens, he begins to date other women, yet, in the back of his mind, he can never quite let his desire for Sehie go.
Several months later, a mysterious new waitress calling herself Saehie (Seong Hyeon-ah) begins to work at his local cafe. There is an instant attraction, a strange familiarity that Jiwoo cannot explain - he is compelled to be with her, yet Sehie still haunts his thoughts...
Time is an atypical and somewhat curious film from a director known for pushing the envelope with bizarre characters, often on the wrong side of the law, and left of centre situations. In this case, the leads are the epitome of middle class, law-abiding Asia - they hang out in coffee bars, have normal jobs, run of the mill hobbies and, on the surface at least, aspirations for a mediocre life. There are no fantastic monsters or ‘outsiders’ on the edge of society to invoke the audience’s attention, instead Kim Ki-duk utilises the desires and fixations that swim behind the eyes of these seemingly conventional citizens.
Ki-duk briefly begins his story at the halfway point, where we witness gruesome and detailed face surgery, before jumping back in time to the psychological lead up to Sehie’s extreme solution for solving her insecurities. Initially, the director draws us in by skilfully orchestrating his main actors - all well on top of their game - through a maze of raw emotions that he hopes will justify his severe story arc. Unfortunately, it is this intense story arc that is the weak link and, ultimately, the movie’s downfall. We are asked to suspend belief as each new emotional outburst grows in intensity and, like the story’s nervous bystanders, we begin to feel increasingly uncomfortable and somewhat alienated by a plot, now, punctured with too many unacceptable coincidences.
The cinematography is on a par with Kim Ki-duk’s usual work - in fact, it is particularly reminiscent of his earlier films The Coast Guard and The Isle, in style rather than the far removed content. The latter being his most controversial film, in the UK at least, after its release was delayed due to accusations of animal cruelty on set. The director later admitted, and voiced regret for slicing open a live frog and mutilating several fish for particular scenes within that film.
Other positives are that Ki-duk utilises the scenery and vistas to great effect, his use of colour is, at times, exquisite, and even the background music, often a weak point, is fine. The dialogue, for the most part, is believable, if not the motives and reasoning behind the characters’ words. If his idea was to make us question our identity, who we are, and if true beauty is more than skin deep then this movie does just that, albeit going too far in its search for answers to these raised questions. In fact, if we accept the plot’s weak points, as huge as they are, there is still much to be enjoyed by watching these occasionally mesmerising characters attempt to fulfil their passionate and seemingly unattainable desires.
Time is an engaging little film with a plot that is as compelling as it is frustrating, and a ‘love it’ or ‘hate it’ ending, yet easily worth 97 minutes of anyone’s time. MG
REVIEW: DVD Release: The Sword With No Name
Film: The Sword With No Name
Release date: 20th September 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 120 mins
Director: Kim Yong-gyun
Starring: Baek Jae-jin, Choi Jae-woong, Cho Seung-woo, Heo In-gu, Go Su-hee
Genre: Action/Drama/Martial Arts/Romance
Studio: Cine Asia
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country: South Korea
A sumptuous, epic tale of forbidden love, social uprising, royal intrigue and betrayal - where tensions are settled with deadly duels. Yong-gyun Kim follows up The Red Shoes with decidedly more traditional fair - but does he bring the same verve and style?
Set in 19th century Korea, The Sword With No Name tells the story of star-crossed lovers Moo-myoung and Ja-young, the latter destined to become the Empress Myeongseong. Haunted by a love that can never cross the class divide in a Korea depicted as rife with social and religious upheaval, the two are torn apart by fate.
Until the determined Moo-myoung schemes his way into the Royal Palace, becoming a guard in order to stay close to her. But the Empress is bound by her courtly duty, and can never reciprocate his feelings. But, when the royal family’s enemies mount an assault on the throne, will fate bring the two soul mates back together? Or will it finally tear them apart for good?
To begin this review with a summary, The Sword With No Name has all the essential ingredients for an engrossing film, but none of them are mixed quite right. A visually pleasing historical epic, its arresting action sequences don’t grip as much as they should, thanks to some crippling narrative flaws, and a schizophrenic tone.
The inconsistency of tone is best exemplified within the character arc of Moo-myoung (Cho) - the protagonist goes from hapless, pratfalling goof into a cocksure, steely-eyed young man confident enough to walk into a royal household with - apparently - the eviscerated corpse of the tiger he killed for reasons that are never quite clear. Showing an emotional trauma from the events on the film’s opening only when the filmmakers deem it appropriate, his character seems more inconsistent than complex and contradictory and, as such, the film demands a lot of its audience to invest in him during an opening act that is at best sluggish, at worst downright dull.
His - and the script’s - inconsistency is displayed clearest in an early turning point that sees him attempt to rescue the woman he loves in a very sombre scene, only to be followed with a light-hearted, comical depiction of how she dominates his thoughts, the image of her turning up in river water to annoy him. Against the backdrop of religious conflict and serious emotional stakes, scenes like this prevent an audience from fully engaging in the story.
And a curious story it is. Opening with a genuinely unsettling execution of Korean Christians, serving as a social backdrop, as well as prologue for Moo-myoung, the film stakes its claim to the tag of ‘worthy epic’. But all too soon, this dark and harrowing tone is thrown off as the film’s main plot picks up at a gentler pace, as it moves into a somewhat charming courtship sequence between a grown Moo-myoung, now working as a boatman, and a noble girl, Ja-young (Su-Ae). But as the film takes its time setting up its characters and conflict, it is unable to decide what type of film it wants to be - serious historical epic, or heart-rending romance. It succeeds at neither, and coats everything in the grandest melodrama.
Characters profess and act on grand, epic emotions in a story that whips through its developments very quickly. With everything feeling underdeveloped, the film alienates its audience right when it needs them to care.
For a plot that’s relatively simple and straightforward, the first half narrative is oddly confusing, with apparently nameless characters making plot-altering decisions for reasons that are not always entirely clear. For example, a sequence that sees Moo-myoung venture to the royal household to challenge a presumably nefarious elite soldier to a duel somehow results in him wilfully testing a bullet-proof vest, with nary a mention of why. The two sequences play as though the film has been hastily reedited, out of order, and serves to further disengage the viewer.
Furthermore, as the film builds to the end of its second act, the audience is left pondering some perplexing questions: why has the king set Moo-myoung the challenge that he has? Why is Moo-myoung suddenly fighting an army all by himself? Whose side is everyone on? What is the ‘bigger picture’ conflict really about? The latter may be clear to those who know their Korean history; but the uninitiated may scratch holes in their heads.
And this is a real shame, because it takes the shine off where the film does succeed - visually. The Sword With No Name is stunningly designed, and gorgeously shot, with some of the better-looking CGI-aided fight sequences in Asian cinema for some time. Though not always convincing in terms of realism, Yong-gyun Kim fuses anime, video game and wuxia visual influences into one unique, satisfyingly impressionistic and dream-like style all of his own. It is the film’s major strength, and ensures that it is always easy on the eye. This film packs a potent, but ultimately wayward, punch.
It’s romance isn’t especially romantic, and its political intrigue is not particularly interesting, but The Sword With No Name is a classy production, rescued by some nifty dust-ups. JN
REVIEW: DVD Release: Breathless

Film: Breathless
Release date: 22nd March 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 130 mins
Director: Yang Ik-june
Starring: Yang Ik-june, Kim Kkot-bi
Genre: Drama
Studio: Terracotta
Format: DVD
Country: South Korea
Breathless is a bleak, relentless and emotionally raw movie from South Korea. An uncompromising look at the violent underbelly of a section of poverty ridden urban South Korea, Breathless is the directorial debut of lead man and scriptwriter Yang Ik-joon, and has rightly been bestowed with a healthy array of awards.
Sang-Hoon (Ik-joon) is a seemingly sociopathic debt collector. He lives with memories of his mother’s and sister’s beatings, and his sister’s subsequent murder at the hands of their father. Sang-Hoon retreats into violence - the only language he truly understands – borne from the guilt of not being able to save his sibling. He strikes up an unlikely relationship with a schoolgirl who herself only understands violence and degradation from her own family.
His violence intensifies as he deals with his father’s release from prison, and the demands of his boss to help train and harden new recruits to the organisation. Sang-Hoon struggles to fit the mould of a good role model to his sad young nephew, the son of a half-sister, a boy he is in danger of colouring with his own nihilistic and antagonistic attitudes. However, the film asks is there hope of emotional redemption for Sang-Hoon, and more importantly does he have the capability to feel anything more than hatred and derision?
This film attempts to pick apart his tumultuous life and to understand why his tendency toward violence has coloured him as it has. It also shows how such unfettered and untreated aggression is locked tight in the DNA of society, threatening to replicate itself endlessly, here in the young nephew he is a reluctant role model to. The opening scene itself, a young man belittling and slapping a woman in the street, sets the tone for an unflinching look at bare-handed violence. Domestic violence may be the catalyst for Sang-Hoon’s downward spiral, but it is not the only uncomfortable brutality on display. Sang-Hoon picks fights with strangers, punches women and even slaps his own nephew. A scene where he puts the boy in an armbar submission hold and taunts him to escape is sad and subtly horrifying
Ik-joon plays Sang-Hoon with a chillingly believable dead-eyed detachment. He refuses to take pleasure in the aggression he dishes out, rather breaking himself free in order to perpetrate it. And in breaking himself free, so often the detachment is now perhaps irreparably permanent. The money hungry youths he trains learn his style quickly, and he makes sure any hesitation or apparent displays of empathy are quickly quashed with a beating of his own charges. For his seeming dumb posturing, Sang-Hoon is not dim to the knowledge that someday, somebody bigger and with more unresolved anger will be the match of him.
Ik-joon plays the vulgar mouthed but understated lead man with such gravitas the viewer can’t help but feel his own life is tainted with brutalism. His perfectly weighted role is supported beautifully by the wonderful acting of his schoolgirl friend Yeon-Hee (Kim Kkot-bi). As she lives with the same cyclical behaviours of belittlement and hostility from her own father and brother, she is inexorably drawn toward that type of man, and finds herself wanting to be with Sang-Hoon. His lone wolf attitude pushes her away at first, but as they need each other more they seek one another for some relief from the drudge and agonies of their own lives.
The sets are landmark-free non-touristic areas of Korea. Life in cold near poverty is depicted with washed out stark backdrops and bleak views. Unstylish clothes and unfashionable furniture help give the film, and its core theme of man’s timeless propensity towards hostility, an ageless appeal, refusing really to put it in any age or generation. The language is littered with the very harshest expletives not for a shock effect but for what Ik-joon sees as the truest reflection of the nihilistic hopeless.
The bleakness and traps of this violent behaviour and the uncompromising way it is fully depicted can be highly uncomfortable. It is in no way glorified. No air punching or wire cables here, just cold connecting fists and kicks that can, at times, nauseate the viewer.
Breathless is stubbornly unwilling to shy away from society’s sicknesses. The many scenes comprising this theme are broken and relieved by two long montages played over with gentle music showing Sang-Hoon, Yeon-Hee and his nephew out in the world, shopping and mixing among functional people and families yet never truly fitting in.
As the films pace allows layers to build and relationship dynamics to be understood and interwoven, nausea and discomfort evolves into empathy and worry, characters you are sure are irredeemable surprise you. The shaky documentary style photography adds to the grittiness and rawness.
Breathless is stark, dark and uncompromising. Well directed and with expertly judged emotional performances, this film has dared to expose the terrible unbreakable cycle of violence in an apparently progressive and evolved society. JM
REVIEW: Cinema Release: Mother

Film: Mother
Release date: 20th August 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 129 mins
Director: Bong Joon-ho
Starring: Kim Hey-ja, Won Bin, Ku Jin, Yoon Jae-moon, Jun Mi-sun
Genre: Crime/Drama/Mystery/Thriller
Studio: Optimum
Format: Cinema
Country: South Korea
Having enjoyed box office success with the throwaway if fun monster flick The Host, director Bong Joon-ho returns to tackling the sort of heavy subject matter he excelled on with the likes of Memories Of Murder early in his career.
Yoon Do-joon is an impressionable, mentally-impaired twenty-something, led astray by his friend Jin-tae (which sees him rolling around, fighting in the sand pit of a local golf course), and suffocated and frustrated by his overprotective mother, who wants to feed him at the dinner table and sleeps next to him half-naked at night
After a night out where he creates a scene after Jim-tae doesn’t turn up, an inebriated Yoon Do-joon calls out and follows a school girl to a derelict building. Yoon is apparently scared off by a large rock that is thrown from the shadows, but the next day the girl is found bludgeoned to death, and he is arrested by the police and quickly manipulated to sign a confession.
His mother cannot believe her son is capable of such a heinous crime, and believing the police are taking the easy route and fitting him up, she sets out to find the real killer…
The out of context, quirky tone which permeates throughout is set straight away, as we follow the ‘mother’ of the piece serenely walking through a field’s long grass, before she begins an initially amusing yet soon uneasy slow, rhythmic dance in time with the title music. The next scene sees the mother (played by Kim Hye-ja) cutting herbs, the sound of which is crisp and intense, as the camera cuts between her fingers getting ever closer to the blade and her son outside with his friend by whom she’s distracted, then WHAM!, a car ploughs into her son and she heads out in hysterics. These two key scenes are indicative of the director’s joy in leading the viewer in one direction only to throw a curveball, and to quickly jolt the viewer as long periods of calm and sobriety suddenly turn extreme. You never know quite what to expect next and the director succeeds in creating a feeling of uncertainty, so important to a mystery, and more necessary here when needing to distract from several flimsy plot twists and developments.
The director, as we know from success stories like The Host, has a penchant for humour, and this combined with some wonderfully inventive cinematography and unnecessary surprise additions provides occasional treats - for example, when the boy urinates against the wall outside, the camera pans out to show his mother slowly approaching before closer inspection of her offspring’s uncivilized activity. She then begins to feed him as the camera now hoisted above shows his urine trickling behind. Suddenly the bus we were unaware he was waiting for turns up and he runs on.
Given the film’s sinister subject matter, and the overall sombre mood (darkly lit, with heavy storms for the most part), these moments of humour make more of an impression, but are also cheap tricks for a director seemingly unwilling to truly confront or examine the underlying darkness – suggesting an almost incestuous relationship between the pair who sleep together, later becomes a throwaway line for outsiders, although this would have been very important in explaining the mother’s behaviour. We are shown Yoon as odd at best because he’s played too comically, with never a missed opportunity to laugh at his expense (when his friend kicks a rear view mirror off a Mercedes Benz his efforts at emulating said activity only sees him land on his rear). His time in incarceration (where inmates revel in his reaction to being called a “retard”), away from the mother he was apparently so reliant upon, isn’t shown to be difficult for him, and he’s never in any serious anguish, occasionally rubbing his “temples of doom” when he wants to remember events that enter intermittently, and with many inaccuracies.
Given the role isn’t fully fleshed out, and there’s little drama (even his arrest becomes a jokey aside, with a car accident seeing a dazed police officer cuffing and reading him his rights, whilst a large gathering of civilians gawp through the police car’s window – later a police officer kicks an apple from his mouth), you have little understanding or sympathy for the son’s predicament. Your investment in this key character diminished further because of such a powerhouse performance from Kim Hye-ja, stealing every scene the pair share.
As with other key South Korean successes, such as Thirst and Ms. Vengeance, the film is carried by an outstanding female lead performance. The mother’s facial expressions say everything we need to know at times, and she stirs the audience with the role demanding she run the whole gamut of emotions, gaining the strength and courage to investigate given the police’s lazy ineptitude, yet clearly desperate and tormented by her need to protect her son. Her adaptability in the role is indicative of the film’s approach to storytelling, and even if we aren’t emotionally tied to developments, and there’s a criminal lack of tension (even during a scene where she has to creep past a sleeping suspect) as we reach the final scenes, both her performance and the director’s invention are to be marvelled at.
Cleverly crafted, with an old-timey feel (the Hitchcock-style score certainly lends weight to that feeling) and an outstanding lead performance (which has earned an extra star for this review), Mother is another classy South Korean offering, but the director’s unwillingness to explore the characters’ psychosis and some convenient plot developments prevent it being considered a classic. DH
SPECIAL FEATURE: DVD Review: My Sassy Girl

Film: My Sassy Girl
Running time: 123 mins
Director: Kwak Jae-young
Starring: Cha Tae-hyun, Gianna Jun, Han Jin-hie, Hyun Sook-hee, Kim Il-woo
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Romance
Country: South Korea
Region 1 release.
Based on a collection of true stories that were posted on the internet by author Kim Ho-sik, My Sassy Girl was turned into a film by one of South Korea’s biggest movie directors, Kwak Jae-young, going on on to receive numerous awards and attention since its release in 2001, including a 2008 Hollywood remake, a Japanese television drama and being given the Bollywood treatment.
The film portrays Kim Ho-sik’s stories of a young student called Kyun-woo who comes across an attractive unnamed girl whilst she attempts to commit suicide in an underground station. The nameless girl ends up on the same train as Kyun-woo but is completely intoxicated and begins causing an assortment of troubles, including arguing with others and vomiting on a nearby passenger’s head. Soon Kyun-woo is forced into assisting the girl by passengers mistaking his identity as the girl’s boyfriend and is shamed into taking care of the situation.
Kyun-woo takes the girl to a nearby hotel where he plans on leaving her for the night, but soon the police burst into the scene and start accusing him of an array of offences. Kyun-woo spends an uneasy night in jail, deeply regretting his decision to help the girl and attempting to forget about the entire night. Soon after, however, the girl contacts him via mobile phone, and reluctantly he agrees to meet and explain the situation. He is soon flung straight back into a familiar situation from that of the night before, with the unnamed girl again becoming uncontrollable.
Once Kyun-woo takes care of her for the second time, he begins to ask himself questions as to why the girl is acting in such a way. He starts to develop an odd sense of responsibility for her, which in turn enables him to tolerate her exhaustive and rather abusive personality.
Their unusual partnership begins, and their adventure together ensues. They go through moments of being best friends, mortal enemies, betting buddies, squash partners and hostages. Their time together creates a great example of an odd and unlikely friendship that overcomes great odds and times of trouble to find nothing but forgiveness and compassion…
The film is sectioned into three distinctive parts. The separation of these parts allows for the narrative to continue at a steady pace, even whilst the plot takes twists and turns towards the unimaginable and unforgettable.
The performances from the main cast are immaculate, their portrayal of the characters described within the novel are right on par, and although Gianna Jun’s efforts as the anonymous girl are sometimes judged as overly brazen to the point of annoyance, to others she executes the perfect balance of compassion and tyranny that goes hand in hand with this film’s heart-warming core and content.
Cha Tae Hyun’s performance in the film is equally as memorable. His sense and ability to perform as a comedic actor are an accomplishment within itself. He generates the majority of the laughter and undoubtedly creates the film’s youthful innocent charm that is played well throughout. His role in this film actually made him one of Korea's ‘most wanted dates', according to a survey on Korean girls.
The script, being originally based on a novel adapted from the Internet stories, does extend the film into a full two hours twenty minutes, but audiences won’t be left feeling weary at the length with such a witty and intelligent script that perfectly reflects the feelings and reactions felt by the characters, and the circumstances that surround them. The script brings together elements of science fiction, romance, adventure and road movie, which makes for a diverse viewing pleasure that audiences may find unfamiliar. However, the film is so well written the story is at no point incomprehensive or confusing.
My Sassy Girl is a compassionate film with both a humane message and humane characters. Almost every scene in the film gives the viewers something to laugh, cry, or think about. There are no moments of silence or dead air, and every act within the film carries its own heart-warming blend of physical comedy, straight melodrama and emotional highs. LS
REVIEW: DVD Release: The Good The Bad The Weird

Film: The Good The Bad The Weird
Release date: 15th June 2009
Certificate: 15
Running time: 126 mins
Director: Kim Ji-woon
Starring: Lee Byung-hun, Song Kang-ho, Jung Woo-sung, Jo Kyeong-hun, Kim Kwang-il
Genre: Action/Adventure/Comedy/Western
Studio: Icon
Format: DVD
Country: South Korea
After achieving critical acclaim with his 2005 film A Bittersweet Life, South Korean director Kim Ji-woon went completely off-kilter with his follow-up.
Set in the 1930s of the lawless Far East, a mysterious map is being transported on a train across the desert to be taken to the Imperialist Japanese commanders. As it makes its way across the terrain, three bounty hunters make their way to stake their claim on the prize. Amidst the confusion, The Weird escapes with the map, forcing The Good and The Bad to put aside their conflict and leave the scene in search of the means to find the untold riches that map has knowledge of.
As the chase continues, with an ever-increasing array of antagonists adding themselves to the conflict, the disgruntlement becomes a skirmish, and the skirmish becomes an all out war. Building towards a gigantic battle royale in the heat of the desolate landscape, The Good, The Bad and The Weird each manipulate and make use of the various additions to the chase, as they dodge bullets, cannons, horses, machines and corpses en route to the final stand off around the prize they fought so hard to get to...
To critique The Good The Bad The Weird without making mention of the Sergio Leone masterpiece would be ignoring the obvious. It is evident that Kim Ji-woon has been highly influenced by the Man With No Name trilogy, in particular the revered climax to the story. The director has not attempted to copy, parody or pastiche the original creation, as there is an undeniable warmth and charm that is present throughout the chaotic discord. Kim Ji-woon has merely transferred elements of The Good, The Bad And The Ugly to an Eastern setting, but given it a slightly zany twist and ramped up the action to differentiate from the source. However, it is Kim Ji-woon’s instincts as an action director that let the project down when it needed guidance the most.
It’s no surprise when looking at the glossy shine and luscious cinematic panoramas that The Good The Bad The Weird is South Korea’s most expensively made film, but there is little plot. After the satisfactory and warming opening skirmish, there is little else to keep the viewer interested as the action gleefully, and unashamedly, hops from one set piece to the next. The mania comes thick and fast, but mainly in the thick, as segments are dragged out to ridiculous proportions, taking five, ten and sometimes even fifteen minutes longer than necessary just to fit in a ludicrous gunfight with absolutely no progression of the story. The climactic free-for-all that is the film’s penultimate sequence is turgid and overly long, but what is immensely infuriating is the complete lack of perspective or objective. The setting is a vast plain for miles on end, which spawns an orgy of mayhem from which anyone escaping could be easily seen, yet one of heroes manages, somehow, to ride out of the madness only for there to be a cut and all three of the bounty-hunters to be present at the locale.
What is unforgivable is the lack of attention and detail that goes into the three most important pieces of this cinematic puzzle, and that being the three main characters, which the film is named after. In East Asian cinema, there is always a greater deal of ambiguity present than in their European counterparts, but the way in which the traits of The Good, The Bad, and The Weird interchange at varying junctures is somewhat defeatist. Jung Woo-sung, who plays The Good, has evidently spent a great deal of time watching the spaghetti western trilogy - he mimics Eastwood’s stance, tone and style in an almost frighteningly accurate portrayal. However, while Woon’s creation doesn’t set out to be an imitation, at this point in The Man With No Name trilogy, Eastwood’s character had already adopted a softer stance, becoming much less of an anti-hero and more a traditional protagonist with attitude. Jung Woo-sung, unfortunately, finds himself lacking the necessary aura to provide legitimacy to his version of The Good, and suffers from the ever interchanging roles of the three gunmen.
Apart from some delightful camera work, and a score that echoes Morriconne’s iconic creation, The Good The Bad The Weird is an ultimately hollow experience that lurches back into the comfort of an action genre all too readily. It leaves the viewer wishing that Kim Ji-woon had perhaps shown some of the characteristics in A Bittersweet Life - cutting out some of the action and focusing more on character progression, allowing the individuals to flourish and come to life, so as not to be viewed as cardboard cut-outs.
While an enjoyable and unintelligible watch, bigger does not always mean better, and it leaves the viewer wondering whether another of South Korea’s plethora of talented directors could have created a more meaningful cinematic experience for a few dollars less. BL
REVIEW: DVD Release: A Bittersweet Life

Film: A Bittersweet Life
Release date: 24th April 2006
Certificate: 18
Running time: 120 mins
Director: Kim Ji-woon
Starring: Lee Byung-hun, Kim Yeong-cheol, Mina Shin, Kim Roe-ha, Hwang Jeong-min
Genre: Crime/Action/Thriller/Drama
Studio: Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: South Korea
A tale of love, loyalty, betrayal and revenge, A Bittersweet Life offers a critically acclaimed and award-winning insight into South Korea’s underworld.
Kim Sun-woo is a stoic criminal tasked with spying on his boss’ new girlfriend, Min-gi, while he is away, with the express instruction to kill her if she is seen with any other men. Meanwhile, gang leader Baek and Sun-woo’s chief rival Moon-suk target Sun-woo after a confrontation between the two crime families.
After discovering that the girl he is watching is seeing another man, Sun-woo contravenes his orders, as well as his better judgment, and spares the girl’s life. Sun-woo’s boss returns, discovers his employee’s indiscretion and promptly gives his lieutenant up to the rival gang.
Beaten, humiliated and buried alive, Sun-woo survives to take revenge on all that have betrayed him…
A delicate human drama punctuated by extended scenes of brutal, stylised violence, A Bittersweet Life is one man’s journey towards his inevitable death.
The action drama has become popular in eastern cinema over the last decade, the films of Chinese director Johnny To, in particular, juxtaposing slow burn emotional drama with balletic, Woo-esque violence. The violence within these films often serves to be a cathartic release, designed as a bloody conclusion to any tension built throughout the story, a stylish deus ex machina to tie up (or shoot) any loose ends. In Kim Ji-woon’s revenge thriller, the abrupt outbursts of choreographed violence are a direct representation of the central character’s volatile nature.
The film’s opening act is a sombre affair, at odds with the carnage that will later ensue. Hopeful moments between Sun-woo and Min-gi are undercut by the futility of their relationship - Sun-woo seeing a future with this woman, but knowing he will never be able to live it.
Kim Sun-woo is a wonderfully engaging character, and Lee Byung-hun is a magnetic screen presence. A man of few words and whose reactionary nature incurs the wrath of a rival gang boss at the film’s opening, and later causes him to disregard a direct order from his boss. Sun-woo is rage buried under an ingrained discipline that is counteracted by a woman he loves and knows he must kill. A man of barely contained emotion in a world where such a thing is forbidden, it’s Sun-woo’s anger and grief that drives the film.
Elsewhere, Kim Roe-ha impresses as the envious Mun-suk and Hwang Jeong-min’s psychotic Baek is comically OTT - all bang and bluster in contrast to Sun-woo’s smooth skills. Aside from this, the cast is disappointingly skeletal, the story choosing to focus almost exclusively on Sun-woo, a man who punches more than he speaks.
The action itself is highly impressive, from a lightning fast skirmish in a restraint booth to an epic final showdown, Kim Ji-woon and fight choreographer Heong Ji-jun (who tragically died in 2008 on the set of The Good The Bad The Weird) craft some truly beautiful set pieces. The climactic shoot out, in particular, is shot and scored like a Leone western, with Sun-woo playing out his last moments as the tragic anti-hero.
A bold mix of genres and styles, A Bittersweet Life shifts from western gangster flick to eastern crime fable, all the way to bloody revenge drama and back again. The film is often tonally muddled, yet it retains coherence thanks to Kim Ji-woon’s confident direction and Byung-hun’s charismatic lead. KT
REVIEW: DVD Release: Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance

Film: Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance
Release date: 28th February 2-005
Certificate: 18
Running time: 121 mins
Director: Park Chan-wook
Starring: Song Kang-ho, Shin Ha-kyun, Doona Bae, Lim Ji-eun, Han Bo-bae
Genre: Crime/Drama/Thriller
Studio: Palisades Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: South Korea
Park Chan-wook’s Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance is the first instalment of what has subsequently been dubbed the ‘Vengeance Trilogy’ along with successive works Oldboy (2003) and Lady Vengeance (2005). While the three films are not directly linked via narrative or characters, they do evoke the same thematic substratum consisting of anger, loss and (as the trilogy’s title denotes) revenge.
The story fixates on well meaning deaf-mute Ryu (Ha-kyan Shin) who is desperate to save the life of his ill sister, and resorts to dealings with underground organ traders to find a kidney to match her blood type. Unable to pay the full amount, despite giving them all the money he has, Ryu loses one of his own kidneys to make up the difference.
However, when a compatible kidney then mysteriously becomes available, Ryu has no money left to pay for the operation. With time running out, he and his terrorist girlfriend (Doona Bae) kidnap a wealthy businessman’s (Kang-ho Song) daughter and hold her to ransom, with their actions leading to torture, pain and revenge…
Like its subsequent filmic counterparts, Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance serves up a compelling examination into the psychologically transformative process undergone when one seeks revenge on another, and explores the barbarity one is willing to cause when motivated by anger and hate. But, unlike its successors, Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance achieves this largely without the flash and pretence that shapes those latter films. Indeed, much like Takashi Miike’s breakthrough feature Audition (1999), this is a film that exhibits a lot of restraint; quietly disarming its audience to give the havoc unleashed in the final act extra resonance.
The pace of the story, while slow burning, is strangely engaging nonetheless. Shin’s deaf-mute steel welder, Ryu, generates empathy without ever having to say an audible word of dialogue; though we are occasionally privy to his thoughts via a sporadic internal monologue and subtitled sign language exchanges between him and his girlfriend. Song’s businessman is also commendable; playing host to an interesting shift in story dynamic in the aftermath of the botched kidnapping where he becomes protagonist, leaving the audience with the difficult decision of who to morally support as the stakes are raised.
Kim Byung-il’s camera work is equally passive and restrained, favouring locked off compositions over the elaborate and fluid motions that have gone on to characterise and form a major part of the Park Chan-wook experience. It may be worthy to note that this film marks Kim’s only collaboration with Park, with Chung-hoon Chung lensing the other two ‘Vengeance’ films and everything that’s followed thus far. For this reason, those who are well versed Park Chan-wook’s oeuvre may be disheartened by Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance’s rather minimalist and languid style at first. The camera sometimes feels oddly detached from the emotional situation depicted on screen. Characters are frequently lost in wide frames or interestingly disfigured in some of the film’s more stylised shots; Ryu’s first encounter with the black market organ dealers for instance. The results for the most part are beautiful, lending the film a quite sense of professionalism that, while not as immediately striking as Park Chan-wook’s latter work, is still appreciable and rewarding for the viewer.
Another initially frustrating but ultimately rewarded facet is the film’s method of storytelling that places just as much onus on what isn’t seen as on what is. Certain key moments are purposefully left on the cutting room floor - we never see the actual kidnapping of the businessman’s daughter, for example, going from planning it in one scene to having the girl playing on the floor of Ryu’s sister’s apartment, both of whom are unaware as to the real reason why. There are enough clues in the surrounding scenes to suggest that (according to Ryu) the girl has been placed in Ryu’s charge whilst her mother recovers from an accident in the hospital. It’s an approach that requires the audience’s full attention, which is also somewhat risky. It’s a style that will either draw the viewer in by making them fill in the blanks of the narrative, or alienate them by not easily giving them all the facts.
The sporadic moments of extreme violence follows a similar mandate. Some moments are quite brutal, such as Ryu’s eventual facing off against the organ traders, whilst other moments negate, showing the act itself in favour of exploring the tense build up and the bloody aftermath. This aptly fits in with the film’s selective storytelling motif, although cynics may interpret it as a cost cutting device. However, the main focus of Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance is the notion of the aftermath of a tragic event transforming the otherwise good natured victim into brutal and violent persona, so, with that in mind, the motif of skipping the act itself so as to immediately explore that action’s consequences is highly appropriate, and works within the framework of the narrative.
However, these proceedings don’t go by without a sense of humour. Like much of South Korea’s cinematic output of late, Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance exhibits a fine veneer of jet black humour, giving the film a sense of balance and relief. An early scene depicts Ryu’s sister writhing on the floor in pain from her failing kidney prompting a group of horny teenage men in the apartment next door to mistake the moans of pain with those of ecstasy – they feverishly get their rocks off with ears pressed against the wall, convinced that they’re eavesdropping on a highly sexual and private moment. Some quirkiness misses the mark, for instance; the mentally handicapped man who randomly resides near the river – a location that plays a pivotal role in the slowly unfolding narrative – and occasionally shambles into shot for no perceivable purpose. It may be a way of counter balancing Ryu’s disability, and perhaps emphasises that, through no fault of his own, Ryu being deaf (as opposed to the kidnapping itself) was the catalyst for the ensuing bloodshed.
Those simply looking for another Oldboy will be sorely disappointed by the film’s different yet gripping style that lacks the immediacy in which that landmark film operates. It may take a couple of viewings to appreciate it, but Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance is a quiet, deceptively complex and thought provoking work about the futility of revenge and the pain inflicted on those involved.
Whilst emotive and highly compelling, Sympathy of Mr. Vengeance doesn’t offer the instant gratification and perceived righteousness that other, more conventional revenge flicks do. Instead, Park Chan-wook presents a challenging and conflicting attitude towards the subject which will enthral some and infuriate others. MP
REVIEW: DVD Release: Treeless Mountain
Film: Treeless Mountain
Release date: 26th April 2010
Release date: 26th April 2010
Certificate: PG
Running time: 89 mins
Director: So Yong KimStarring: Hee Yeon Kim, Song Hee Kim
Genre: DramaStudio: Soda
Format: DVD
Country: South KoreaWritten and directed by Korean-born, American-based, independent filmmaker So Yong Kim, Treeless Mountain is a touching story of two young sisters - a reportedly autobiographical depiction of desertion that is both credible and honest.
Six year-old Jin (Hee-yeon Kim) and her four year-old sister Bin (Song-hee Kim) live with their dispirited mother (Soo-ah Lee) in a cramped apartment in Seoul. Being sensible, and the eldest of the two sisters, Jin often has to take responsibility for Bin, as well as certain chores when their mother is working. Although she clearly loves her children, loneliness has taken up residence in her heart after her husband had walked out on them – it is never made clear as to why. Determined to make things right, she leaves the girls with their aunt, who lives in a shabby town outside Seoul, and goes searching for their father. She gives Jin and Bin a piggy bank and tells them that their aunt will give them a coin every time they do something she tells them to do, and by the time the piggy is full, she will have returned.
The girls soon realise their aunt is an unaffectionate selfish drunk; although not deliberately heartless - it’s obvious that she isn’t cut out to care for the girls. Being the sister of their father, any lack of compassion could be hereditary. Needless to say, Jin and Bin find a more creative way to earn money and fill up their piggy bank – they grill grasshoppers, stick them on skewers and sell them to the local kids. Once the piggy is full, Jin and Bin race to the bus stop and wait for their mother to arrive. The bus comes but there’s no sign of their mother. Their aunt receives a letter from her explaining that she has found her husband but it didn’t go as well as she planned. She writes that she is unable, emotionally and financially, to care for Jin and Bin and that she doesn’t want to burden their aunt with them and thus asks her to take them to stay with their grandparents on their farm…
Treeless Mountain is the second feature by Kim and was shot in South Korea where she was born. The photography wonderfully embraces the beauty and ugliness of the city and rural locations. The film incorporates very little dialogue preferring to leave the visuals to tell most of the narrative, which carries the plot along at a slow meditative pace. Most of the camera shots are low-placed rendering the two sisters’ point of view, which cleverly allows us to share their perspective of what can often be seen as a cruel and unsympathetic world. Kim chooses to come down to the children’s level rather than pointing the camera down on them, which would come across as patronizing – the film is not meant to be experienced from an adults point of view, this would miss the whole point of what the film is trying to convey.
The two main protagonists are charmingly portrayed by Hee-yeon Kim and Song-hee Kim. Their lack of acting experience only adds to the realism of the film, resulting in more natural performances. Kim found her two young leading stars when she auditioned various children from elementary schools and kindergartens across South Korea. In order to create confrontational scenes between the two girls, who appear in almost every scene, and portray much of their own personalities, Kim would manipulate the situation by hiding something that belonged to one of them. If it was something like a sketchbook that belonged to Song-hee Kim then she would blame Hee-yeon Kim for taking it.
Treeless Mountain demonstrates perfectly why independent films are so important – in the hands of a director from a major studio with a large budget this film would quite easily be ruined. The limitations, as is the case with many other independently produced films, only add to the film’s effectiveness. It diaphanously captures a child’s resilience to change and a willingness to adapt to diverse environments.
Kim’s poignant film of two resourceful children with uncertain prospects is not going to be everyone’s choice of film, the pace may irritate some and its uncomplicated storyline may be too simplistic for others. But to pass up on at least one viewing, and to ignore the work of this creative director, would be to miss out on a talent that will undoubtedly one day produce a masterpiece.
Although it just falls short of being a great film, Treeless Mountain is the perfect example of a creative director with a promising future. SLP
Six year-old Jin (Hee-yeon Kim) and her four year-old sister Bin (Song-hee Kim) live with their dispirited mother (Soo-ah Lee) in a cramped apartment in Seoul. Being sensible, and the eldest of the two sisters, Jin often has to take responsibility for Bin, as well as certain chores when their mother is working. Although she clearly loves her children, loneliness has taken up residence in her heart after her husband had walked out on them – it is never made clear as to why. Determined to make things right, she leaves the girls with their aunt, who lives in a shabby town outside Seoul, and goes searching for their father. She gives Jin and Bin a piggy bank and tells them that their aunt will give them a coin every time they do something she tells them to do, and by the time the piggy is full, she will have returned.
The girls soon realise their aunt is an unaffectionate selfish drunk; although not deliberately heartless - it’s obvious that she isn’t cut out to care for the girls. Being the sister of their father, any lack of compassion could be hereditary. Needless to say, Jin and Bin find a more creative way to earn money and fill up their piggy bank – they grill grasshoppers, stick them on skewers and sell them to the local kids. Once the piggy is full, Jin and Bin race to the bus stop and wait for their mother to arrive. The bus comes but there’s no sign of their mother. Their aunt receives a letter from her explaining that she has found her husband but it didn’t go as well as she planned. She writes that she is unable, emotionally and financially, to care for Jin and Bin and that she doesn’t want to burden their aunt with them and thus asks her to take them to stay with their grandparents on their farm…
Treeless Mountain is the second feature by Kim and was shot in South Korea where she was born. The photography wonderfully embraces the beauty and ugliness of the city and rural locations. The film incorporates very little dialogue preferring to leave the visuals to tell most of the narrative, which carries the plot along at a slow meditative pace. Most of the camera shots are low-placed rendering the two sisters’ point of view, which cleverly allows us to share their perspective of what can often be seen as a cruel and unsympathetic world. Kim chooses to come down to the children’s level rather than pointing the camera down on them, which would come across as patronizing – the film is not meant to be experienced from an adults point of view, this would miss the whole point of what the film is trying to convey.
The two main protagonists are charmingly portrayed by Hee-yeon Kim and Song-hee Kim. Their lack of acting experience only adds to the realism of the film, resulting in more natural performances. Kim found her two young leading stars when she auditioned various children from elementary schools and kindergartens across South Korea. In order to create confrontational scenes between the two girls, who appear in almost every scene, and portray much of their own personalities, Kim would manipulate the situation by hiding something that belonged to one of them. If it was something like a sketchbook that belonged to Song-hee Kim then she would blame Hee-yeon Kim for taking it.
Treeless Mountain demonstrates perfectly why independent films are so important – in the hands of a director from a major studio with a large budget this film would quite easily be ruined. The limitations, as is the case with many other independently produced films, only add to the film’s effectiveness. It diaphanously captures a child’s resilience to change and a willingness to adapt to diverse environments.
Kim’s poignant film of two resourceful children with uncertain prospects is not going to be everyone’s choice of film, the pace may irritate some and its uncomplicated storyline may be too simplistic for others. But to pass up on at least one viewing, and to ignore the work of this creative director, would be to miss out on a talent that will undoubtedly one day produce a masterpiece.
Although it just falls short of being a great film, Treeless Mountain is the perfect example of a creative director with a promising future. SLP
REVIEW: DVD Release: The Warrior
Film: The Warrior
Release date: 25th September 2006
Certificate: 18
Running time: 127 mins
Director: Kim Sung-Su
Starring: Jung Woo-Sung, Joo Jin-mo, Sung-Ki Ahn, Ziyi Zhang
Genre: Action
Studio: Contender
Format: DVD
Country: South Korea/China
Following the significant success with Western audiences enjoyed by the likes of Crouch Tiger Hidden Dragon and Hero, the bar for Eastern period epics has been raised, but increased expectancy tends to lead to disappointment, as is the case with the much-hyped Musa (retitled The Warrior).
In 1375, the recently formed Ming Dynasty drove the Yuan Dynasty north of the Great Wall in China. Korea was eager to align itself with this new Chinese government, and in the first year of King Woo’s Dynasty, Coryo (an ancient kingdom of Korea) sent a number of envoys – one of which was trapped, arrested and exiled to the desert without water.
Ambushed here by a Yuan troop of Mongols and with their head diplomatic killed, the group’s General, undemocratically assumes control, seeing the opportunity to free and return the captured Ming princess as a chance to win favour with the Chinese, and return home with pride intact.
But his decision only increases the danger for his delegation of diplomats and soldiers, who must run for their lives as the Yuan army closes in…
The major issue with this film is its titling. “The Warrior” of the title and cover, giving the impression of a Conan-like central character, is essentially tagged on – used when they need to make swift work of enemies, or surprise viewers with an impressive decapitation (in one scene, the slave, and initial mute, shows his mastery of a spear by swiftly dealing with an innocent, if annoying bystander who dared to vocalise his disgust at finding the rotting, dead body of his master – taking a stranger’s life is nothing, but he cares enough about the man who enslaved him to carry his dead body across the desert to ensure a proper burial).
By all accounts, there are several decent fight sequences (the way his clothes flail as he battles numerous foes is stylish – even if it’s nonsensical he can take out a group of highly skilled fighters in one scene, and then be captured with relatively ease in the next – but Jung Woo-sung doesn’t have the charisma in the leading role, and the opportunities to develop his character (a threatened love triangle between the General, the princess, and himself never materialises) or test his loyalties (at one stage he is taken by the Yuan army but when offered the chance to switch allegiance he quickly leaves to rejoin the Koreans, despite his continued mistreatment) are never explored – in fact, the film would have been more coherent without his inclusion.
The real star here is Jin-mo Ju, who plays General Choi Jung – resolute, he shows no compassion for the men he leads – we later learn this is because he’s concerned he won’t live up to his father’s reputation – willing to kill anyone that falls asleep, and unwilling to release the slave whose interjections assist his cause. You never once doubt his character’s lack of humanity – though the lack of softening during the film makes his sudden and dramatic change of stance before the end implausible.
With Ziyi Zhang playing her usual and perfected spoilt and petulant princess character – she insists on being carried even when the Yuan army are closing in and she knows they are moving too slow – and two male leads (although there’s another, just to convolute matters further) you have little understanding or empathy for, in many ways you are left rooting for the Mongols on their tails. Although set-up as the enemies of the story, they at least show capability of compassion by stopping to hold a memorial for the passing of a companion (even if they will torch a village), where the General shows no remorse in sending people under his control to their demise, and unmoved by the passing of his comrades.
The production is somewhat dated. Whether it be down to budget constraints or an intention to give an old-time quality, the film is grainy and washed out, the action scenes unspectacular – little blood or detail for the most part, bar a surprise spear though the neck or a lost limb – and some potentially explosive set pieces (including one where our Warrior battles enemies on horseback from a moving carriage) are spoiled by unstable camera work, which misses most of the contact.
It’s certainly fast-paced and unrelenting, so the two hours pass quickly enough, and with a quality of yore it’s somewhat charming, but given the story’s potential, and what we’ve been treated to with films of this ilk, it does fall short.
An enjoyable romp, if never threatening to reach the epic heights we’ve become accustomed, or able to fully affect viewers with its human drama aspects. DH
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