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Film: I’m A Cyborg
Release date: 26th May 2008
Certificate: 15
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Park Chan-wook
Starring: Lim Su-jeong, Rain, Choi Hie-jin, Kim Byeong-ok, Lee Yong-nyeo
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Romance
Studio: Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: South Korea
I’m A Cyborg is a film by Park Chan-wook that takes a more light-hearted approach to his usual style of twisted storytelling. Fans of his successful vengeance trilogy will be surprised at the U-turn but won’t necessarily be disappointed by the cute escapades of two teenage mental patients.
While working in a radio production factory, Cha Young-goon (Lim Su-jeong) hears a voice instruct her to harm herself, and inevitably she is shocked trying to plug herself into the mains. To show that she is fully recharged, the toes of her right foot light up in different colours, mimicking the bar gauges on mobile phones.
All the while Young-goon’s Mother is narrating. He is telling the doctor about how her daughter acts – that she speaks like an old person because her granny brought her up, who herself has already been sectioned because she thinks she is a mouse and only eats radishes.
After the incident at the factory, Young-goon is immediately hospitalised, and as she is lying motionless in her bed, another patient is telling her about the others on the ward. She wheels Young-goon’s bed around the hospital and shows her ‘the hiccup clock’, where, supposedly, a patient who couldn’t stop hiccupping hid in the clock and withered away. They continue to the recreation room where the male lead, Il-sun (Rain) is playing table tennis in a colourful rabbit mask. Young-goon’s escort tells her a tall tale about Il-sun; that he was so ashamed in prison about what he had done that he burned his handsome face with cigarettes and sewed up his own anus (to which the audience is shown a humorous clip of Il-sun picking a wedgie before serving the next ball).
Young-goon refuses to speak to her peers or nursing staff, instead befriending the vending machine to which she speaks to late at night. Meanwhile, Il-sun is being accused of stealing all sorts of preposterous things from his colleagues, from hunger to table tennis skills. He performs makeshift rituals where he covers the victim’s face in paint then wraps a piece of paper around them. He holds his palm open upon their shoulder and says “transfer,” and then the victim slaps his palm to transfer the desired stolen trait.
This is when the film starts to pick up. Young-goon has been following and watching Il-sun’s shenanigans, and approaches him to ask if he could “steal her sympathy” so that she may fulfil her cyborg duties without her human emotions. Il-sun refuses at first, stealing her Granny’s dentures instead, but when he does finally take the “sympathy,” cyborg Young-goon blossoms, wreaking havoc and carnage around the hospital…
Lim Su-jeong is very likable as the loopy Young-goon. She has a youthful face and portrays a very endearing, child-like character.
Rain proves to be a man of many faces. He is able to take Il-sun from the aloof, seemingly ‘normal’ Ping-Pong enthusiast through all the stolen traits of the other characters with ease and charm, making the film hilarious, and allowing us to forgive the apparent lack of substantial plot.
Another notable character is a man who is “so humble he can only walk backwards,” and is a master of redundant statements, at one point, as he is trying to console a fellow patient’s recent defeat at table tennis, he delivers a very daft consoling line about how “Ping-Pong is about giving and receiving,” and “why must we only give after we’ve received?” The other patient is clearly not impressed.
Dynamics like that between the characters are very entertaining, and obviously the essence of the film is how the patients interact with each other, rather than a straight storyline, which often leaves characters static and lacklustre, while the director trundles through an over-elaborate narrative.
There are scenes that may have been better off not being included, like ones that involve special effects that turn the narrative overly surreal, and into detached dream sequences. Although, when Young-goon believes she is transforming parts of her body into automatic weapons, there is a delightful massacre scene halfway through the film that will indulge long-time Park fans, and still keep the spunky, innocent feel of the rest of the film.
The cinematography is, as ever with Park, spectacular, with the scenes being supported by intense pastel colours, giving the impression of the character’s performing straight out of a children’s book, with lots of repetition of solid, geometric shapes. The eating hall, in particular, is very aesthetic, and also the solitary confinement room, which is a padded cell in a brilliant bright green.
For all the bright and sugary props that keep the audience entertained, an overall storyline is tricky to find – it’s clearly a romance story between two disturbed individuals that will always have problems by themselves in society, but there is no solid, expectant conclusion to tie all the ends together.
As long as you’re not expecting the gratuitous violence of the vengeance trilogy and allow I’m A Cyborg to breathe on its own, it’ll be easier to appreciate as a modern, dark fairytale. The imagery is slick and the characters are attractive and likeable, but the overall storyline seems to teeter out by the credits. You won’t get a satisfying conclusion, but you will laugh hard and easily. AW
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
Film: Oldboy
Release date: 28th February 2005
Certificate: 18
Running time: 115 mins
Director: Park Chan-wook
Starring: Choi Min-sik, Yue Ji-Tae, Gang Hye-jung
Genre: Thriller/Crime/Mystery
Studio: Palisades Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: South Korea
Park Chan-wook’s extreme thriller courted controversy on its cinematic release largely due to the brutality of its violence and a particularly stomach churning scene featuring an octopus. Nonetheless, it took the Grand Prize at Cannes and went on to widespread success.
Oldboy focuses on Oh Dae-su (Choi Min-sik), a man inexplicably kidnapped and imprisoned for fifteen years. Upon his release, he is provided with a wallet full of cash and a mobile phone. A mysterious caller invites him to figure out the reason behind his detainment. A girl appears and promises to help him, and thus begins a brutal quest for answers... and revenge.
When Dae-su comes to meet his captor, a game is proposed: if he can discover the cause for his imprisonment, his kidnapper will commit suicide. If he is unsuccessful within five days, the girl will be killed...
Immediately, the film puts the audience at the heart of the action. We meet Dae-su at the police station where he is being held on a charge of drunk and disorderly. Handheld cameras sway unsteadily around the protagonist, positioning the viewer in the same queasy world as the character. This claustrophobic intensity increases still further as Dae-su is plucked from the streets of Tokyo and incarcerated in his locked bedsit. Here, the camera pans around him in a hallucinatory scene where ants burst from his flesh. Although the audience is not explicitly asked to side with Dae-su, it’s difficult not to feel some sympathy for him as he goes stir-crazy pondering his fate – and what has caused his current predicament.
That this is achieved despite his obnoxious behaviour in the police station begs the question, “Why?” Possibly the answer to this is that Dae-su has been the focus of the film throughout. By keeping him in the centre of the action, and maintaining such close proximity to the lead character, the audience seems to have little choice but to empathise – despite the fact that as a character he is far from likeable. As the film progresses, it’s easy to see why one of the images flashed on Dae-su’s television is that of Frankenstein’s monster.
The physical transformation of Dae-su, which takes place over the course of his captivity, is enormous. As well as the home-made tattoos and plethora of scars adorning his body, Choi Min-sik manages to imbue his character with a ragged anguish, which seems live in every crease and wrinkle of his face. The shoddy black hair framing his expressive face more than hints at the element of insanity that will be necessary for him to complete his vengeful mission. It’s quite a performance.
The scene which caused so much controversy occurs in a sushi restaurant. Having made the acquaintance of young female chef who will assist him in uncovering his personal mystery, he orders and eats a live octopus. We see the creature wriggling, its tentacles snaking around his mouth and into his nose as Dae-su presumably makes a statement about what he is capable of. Ordinarily the BBFC would never pass a film in this country which shows genuine animal cruelty, so the fact that the scene remained uncut in Britain (and that the actor himself admitted that four octopi died in filming it) was both unprecedented and understandably divisive. As a demonstration of desperation, it works amply on behalf of the character and a filmmaker who must have revelled in the publicity.
There are some wonderful set-pieces as violent revenge is wreaked – often with either end of a claw hammer. One scene in particular is epic in its scope. Dae-su is faced with a corridor of tool wielding attackers yet emerges victorious, albeit bloodied and bruised, after a masterfully choreographed fight sequence shot in one impressive take as the camera tracks the action left and right.
In the midst of graphically depicted violence lurks the villain of the piece. He’s an almost pantomime presence, from his mannered demeanour and platinum blonde bodyguard to his implausible disability: despite his youthfulness he is fitted with a remote-controlled pacemaker with which he can end his own life whenever he chooses. The mastermind behind the whole plot holds the aces due to his ability eliminate himself from the storyline, thus leaving Dae-su without the answers he craves.
The second half of the film is more formulaic than the first, but does not fall into the trap of becoming predictable thanks to the romance between Dae-su and Mido, the sushi chef. This beguiling relationship forms the heart of the film, and there are definite echoes of Luc Besson’s Leon in the interplay between the damaged anti-hero and the young girl - a mutual dependency which cannot be fully explained yet is touching in its tenderness.
The denouement is unexpectedly low key given the high octane way the film opens, but the languid unravelling of the plot has a nasty sting in the tail. It’s difficult to know where the audience is supposed to have sympathy in this morally murky world, and Dae-su’s passivity seems to be a deliberate part of the opaque but slightly muddled ending to a thought provoking and visually arresting piece of work.
This is a visceral yet stylish film which succeeds in presenting morally ambiguous characters and letting the audience make up their own minds. Unfortunately, the strength of the visuals cannot carry the relative weakness of the storyline as far as the end credits. RW
Film: Lady Vengeance
Release date: 25th January 2010 (Blu-ray - DVD released: 8th May 2006)
Certificate: 18
Running time: 115 mins
Director: Park Chan-wook
Starring: Yeong-Ae Lee, Min-Sik Choi, Si-Hu Kim, Yea-Young Kwon
Genre: Crime/Drama/Thriller
Studio: Palisades Tartan
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country: South Korea
The final instalment in Park’s vengeance trilogy, and after the startling conclusion to Oldboy, the director certainly had his work cut out to ensure his next picture lived up to significantly raised expectations.
Setting the surreal tone early on, and demanding the audiences renewed attention, the film opens with the release of Geum-ja Lee, who has served over thirteen years in prison for the kidnap and murder of a 6-year-old boy (revealed via old news footage). Here she is greeted by an odd-looking preacher and his group of Father Christmas costume-clad converts, and a request to eat a block of tofu, as her commitment to live her life as white as white and not to sin again. Telling the do-gooder to go screw himself, she puts on a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and sets off with intent.
Meeting up with already-released former prison inmates, the film slowly reveals, via a number of cleverly integrated flashbacks, how she helped and befriended these women (from giving her kidney away to save a bank robbers life to poisoning the prison bully who would rape and beat them), and was now using their criminal expertise to execute her plan of revenge on the man who forced (by kidnapping/threatening her own young daughter) her to take the blame for such an evil act as a naive and vulnerable 20-year-old…
This has to rank as one of Park’s more vibrant and creative pieces of film-making. Although you are acutely aware this is a disturbing story, and the film does become increasingly darker in tone (there is another version where the film gradually fades from colour to black-and-white), as her plan gathers momentum, the world is bright and colourful, with Lee’s new found strength and power represented by her red high heel shoes, and strong eye shadow. Park also moves between a number of different filming styles, including narration, and cinematography techniques to tell the story – thankfully, this never overwhelms or distracts, but certainly impresses.
As you would expect from any Park film, many scenes are bizarre (Lee imagines pulling an animal with her foe, Mr. Baek’s head to a cliff’s edge where she subsequently blows him away, with the blood splatter dramatically highlighted by the pure white snow that has settled), and he never flinches from graphic violence when he wants to unrest his audience (Lee cuts off her finger when begging forgiveness from the murdered boy’s parents, for example).
Park is known for his dark humour, but some moments here are particularly laugh out loud funny despite the context –Baek is eating a meal with a former inmate Lee has planted, when he casually leaves his seat, bends her over the dining table, does his business, taps her on the head to say well done, and then returns to his seat to carry on with his meal. There are also some great moments when she reconnects with her daughter, who has been living in Australia and doesn’t speak a word of Korean.
In fact, the introduction of her daughter adds a lot of emotional weight to the film. When we first meet her, the young girl is lying on a branch looking at the sky, with the clouds spelling out, “I have no mother.” She turns to see Lee has arrived, and glances back up to see the “no” disperse. Later, in the film’s most powerful scenes, she uses the captured Baek to translate heartfelt explanatory words to her bemused daughter – here we see the previously icy cold and in control mother breaking down as she speaks directly to the camera.
As with all great Park movies, he manages to bring out a powerhouse performance from his lead, and Lee Young Ae is magnificent – a huge screen presence, and her unquestionable beauty necessary for the viewer to believe that she could possess such levels of control over people (the relationship she has with a doting work colleague is also touching).
The ending, despites its moments of humour, is harrowing, and poses a number of questions of human nature, which masterfully engrains the film onto your psyche long after the closing credits have rolled.
A vividly imagined tale, filled with a number of guilty pleasures and exceptional performances. Park certainly saved the best till last. DH
Film: Thirst
Release date: 25th January 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 133 mins
Director: Park Chan-wook
Starring: Sang Kang-ho, Kim Ok-vin
Genre: Drama/Romance/Horror
Studio: Palisades Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: South Korea
DVD Special Features:
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Dolby 2.0 and 5.1 and half-rate DTS 5.1 audio options
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Trailer
•
UK exclusive interview with Park Chan-wook
Blu-ray Special Features:
•
Edited highlights from the NFT Masterclass
•
Dolby 2.0 and 5.1 and half-rate DTS 5.1 audio options
•
Trailer
•
UK exclusive interview with Park Chan-wook
Having stunned audiences in the past with the likes of “Oldboy”, hopes were high that Park Chan-wook would reinvigorate the vampire film genre that America has devalued in recent years with effectively teenage soap operas, but were critics who hailed its release and awarded it the Jury Prize at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival merely desperate?
No chiselled features and ripped torsos here, film-maker Park takes inspiration from Emile Zola’s novel 'Therese Raquin' to tell the original and provocative story of priest Sang-hyun, who, having become despondent with his calling’s inability to directly help the gravely ill around him, volunteers as a guinea pig for scientists testing a new vaccine for a deadly virus – despite knowing that he’s more than likely to experience a painful death.
Quickly, the disease does in fact take hold – at one point we see him haemorrhage gruesomely – with a blood transfusion ordered to try and save his life. As the only survivor (with the figure escalating from 50 to 500), he is seen as a saviour by those looking for cures for themselves and loved ones. One such person is the mother of an old school friend, who is dying from cancer. Renewing this close relationship with the family, he grows sympathetic to the mistreated wife, Tae-ju, with whom he strikes up a sinful affair.
Now operating covered up during the day – which garners him the nickname “the bandaged saint” – Sang-hyun continues on this mission to do good, but is becoming increasingly aware and in continuous conflict with changes in himself, not only as a blood-thirsty vampire, but in his desire to satisfy his sexual cravings…
Director Park Chan-wook has always excelled in putting his audiences on edge, and there are plenty of moments of ill ease here. Where most movie makers in this genre would build up to gruesome pay offs, the blood splatter here is more matter of fact; the real wince inducing, look away moments come as the priest battles against his own faith - for example, striking himself with a metal ruler between his legs when lustful thoughts enter his mind - or when Tae-ju’s devious plans gather momentum – we see her stabbing herself in the legs to fabricate mistreatment from her husband.
The sex scenes also make for uncomfortable viewing – far from titillating viewers with exaggerated passion, they capture the troubled nature of both characters. One scene, where Sang-hyun is fervently kissing Tae-ju’s feet, as she sucks his fingers zealously, is particularly repellent.
He once again always fills his world with dark and depraved characters - the mood is kept suitably strange and creepy, and there is little sympathy felt for anyone other than the father who was ultimately forced into this world and way of living as a by-product of a selfless act (his ever strong good nature manipulated by others).
There are also some brilliantly dark comic touches – when he lies on his back to feed from a drip tube keeping a coma patient alive, or fills cans from the same obese patient as he bed baths him – the use of which is so often devoid in Western cinema in this genre, yet is so effective in creating that subtle sinister mood.
Bar a scene where the couple jump from root-top to roof-top during a domestic, the special effects are kept to a minimum, as his senses heighten we see him view his skin to microscopic extent, and we view the arteries of Tae-ju heightened through her skin, but these are used sparingly, and only when necessary to convey the changes in him and his inner battles. Not once do we see his fangs, and many clichés and overused plot paths for this genre are no doubt intentionally avoided - concentrating on story and character development adds to the film’s freshness.
If there is any criticism, it’s that Park has to unnecessarily tie up too many loose ends created as the film deviates wildly in a more comical closing half hour, which loses some of its power – perhaps ending the film half an hour earlier, with the audience left to surmise for themselves, would have added to its sense of awe, and the very questioning nature of the film, on so many levels, would have suited a more open-ended conclusion.
Song Kang-ho is perfectly cast in the role of the priest. With his innocent looks you are more easily aware and sympathetic to his anguish – you are never in doubt of his torment as he battles to remain humane and faithful in the face of heightened desires to gauge himself not only on the blood of others but the carnal pleasures he is now unable to resist.
However, the real revelation here is Kim Ok-vin as the put-upon wife. Her transformation from dreary, awkward dogsbody to volatile and confident vamp is masterful – and she clearly revels in the role. It’s questionable if the film would have been as intoxicating without her presence.
Doesn’t quite have the shock value or comparable standout scenes to that of his masterpiece “Oldboy”, but it is another astonishing piece of film-making that has given this immortal sub-genre a much needed jolt. DH
