In the past twenty years or so, it has become abundantly clear that South Korea has become one of the finest countries in the world for producing and making original film content. Perhaps the best known director is Chan-Wook Park who, along with being the director of Oldboy, also seems to have made the most impact on Western audiences. Less well known, but no less talented, is Joon-ho Bong who, since directing Godzilla inspired monster movie, Host, in 2006, has become somewhat of a cult figure for East Asian cinema.
Kim Hye-ja plays an unnamed widow who lives alone with her son, Do-joon (Wan Bin); a shy young man who has learning difficulties. She makes a living performing unlicensed acupuncture therapy to the town's women and selling medicinal herbs. She dotes on her son, to the point where she allows him to sleep in the same bed as her, and scolds him when he hangs around with local near-do well Jin Tae (Ku Jin). One night, Do-joon, after an evening of heavy drinking, follows a teenage girl home, who, the next morning, is found dead on the roof of her house, with a wound that suggests she was bludgeoned. As far as the police are concerned, there is no question that Go-joon is guilty, as there is fair bit of circumstantial evidence to pin him to the murder. However, the mother has other ideas, and goes to drastic measures, some quite horrific, to prove him innocent.
What is so magnificent about this piece of work is that director, Joon-ho Bong, and his screenwriters Eun-kyo Park and Wun-kyo Park, manage not to make either victims or monsters out of their characters. There is some debate over whether Do-joon killed that young girl, especially given his difficulty comprehending situations and his quickness to anger when people call him a "retard". The mother, too, in her quest to free her son, does some monstrous things, which occasionally confounds comprehension. For example, one particularly strong moment of ignorance on the mother's part is when she goes to the murdered girl’s funeral. Of course, the girl's parents see her very presence in their home to be an insult. In that moment, even if we are to believe that Do-joon was not the murderer, one can see the extent of the mother's fractured psyche; that she thinks it is simply okay just to waltz into their home as if nothing had happened. It is such masterful characterisation like this which prevents the characters from being merely black or white. They are momentarily sympathetic and in the next moment they act horrifically, or ignorantly.
Perhaps what is best about the film, is that nothing is quite what it seems, and the narrative drifts between each scene, almost like a madman's dream of a police procedure; not unlike the first season of Twin Peaks. As in Bong's 2003 film, Memories of a Murder, police incompetence is often a source for black humour, and the mother's general distrust for both the police, and her son's defence attorney, are what spur on her investigation. Due to her son's conditions, moments of stress cause him to become forgetful, and the narrative feels as if the world is being seen from his point-of-view. Although, rest assured I am speaking metaphorically. What I mean is that the film has mischievous sense of anarchy, and scenes become more thrilling when one realises that this is a world seen in Bong's mad mind. Some scenes which happen towards the start of the film tend to drift off, as if forgotten by the filmmakers, only to come back later; told at such points in the film that their inclusion adds the maximum amount of tension for the viewer.
However, Bong is really in his element when examining the psychology of a particular situation. For example, Do-joon's condition, which has undoubtedly been with him since birth, has not been helped by a mother who hovers over him and dotes on him. Their relationship is, to put it lightly, Oedipal, and scenes of them in bed can only confirm this. So, one can hardly blame Do-joon for the way he is, especially since he has been barred from living his life and growing up healthily. Although, in the same breath, one can hardly blame the mother either, since she clearly is not much healthier than Do-joon. While, whatever psychological cracks she may be containing are not as overtly obvious as her son's.
In keeping with the film's fractured, unusual narrative, the mise-en-scéne has a wonderfully inky, graphic art-esque, colour palette. Deep blues, greens and greys saturate the screen, which compliments the film's content; by which I mean that it is brooding, but fantastically so. However, one should note, this has been a very popular visual style that has often been used by South Korean filmmakers. Chan-Wook Park, for example, frequently uses a similar aesthetic for his films, and can be seen most recently in his last film, Thirst.
While, having said all that, it is Kim Hye-ja's performance which makes the film stand out. Her performance is simply mesmerising, especially when showcasing her character's frailty and dependence on her son. Had this been made in the United States or Britain, this would be considered a star making performance, and she would never be out of work. Regrettably, this is only one of two acting credits Hye-ja has had in the last 13 years, and one hopes that, based on her performance here, we will see much more of her in years to come.
8/10
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