Reviews – Page 3

August 10, 2015August 16, 2015

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Ode To My Father (국제시장) – ★★☆☆☆

Ode To My Father (국제시장)

In modern day Busan, cantankerous old fogie Deok-soo (Hwang Jeong-min (황정민) runs a general store in the famous international market region. Walking around the area with family and friends prompts memories from his past to return to the surface, reliving the experience that he and his country endured on the path to modernisation after the Korean War. Deok-soo recalls the traumatic events his family suffered through during the Hungnam Evacuation in the winter of 1950; working in the coal mines of West Germany, and meeting his wife Yeong-ja (Kim Yoon-jin (김윤진); operating as an engineer during the Vietnam War; and striving to reunite with the people he lost so many years ago. Always at his side is best friend Dal-goo (Oh Dal-soo (오달수) as they sacrifice everything for family.

Deok-soo recalls the horrific experience his family endured during the Hungnam Evacuation

Impressive production values and an epic sense of scale are the scant positives of director Yoon Je-kyoon’s Ode To My Father, a disturbingly nationalistic take on recent Korean history that eschews the complexity of the era in favour of manipulative melodrama. Poorly written, shallow, and horribly acted throughout, the film’s revisionist take on past hardships and overtly patriotic sentiment ensured its success with the middle aged while perpetuating the alarming trend of ultra-conservative cinema for everyone else.

Ode To My Father – literally translated as International Market – is best described as ‘the Korean Forrest Gump‘ for the manner in which the film depicts dark periods of history through rose-tinted glasses, centred around the actions of one man. Indeed, while the events onscreen are specifically and uniquely Korean, the narrative structure as well as visual devices are constantly ‘lifted’ from its American counterpart. While Forrest Gump rightly received criticism for its revisionist take on American history, Ode To My Father takes such conservatism to new heights by completely removing any mention of the military dictatorships and authoritarian rule Korea endured following the war while crucial events aren’t even alluded to. Korean films that were produced during the strict censorship of the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s – when Ode is set – contained more insight and compulsion so it’s perplexing to see the periods romanticised in the contemporary age.

The mines of West Germany are claustrophobic

While Park Su-jin’s screenplay eschews historical detail, director Yoon Je-kyoon instead puts all of Ode To My Father‘s large budget onscreen with considerable flair. The Hungnam Evacuation is brilliantly realised as thousands of panic-induced refugees seek transportation to evade war; the claustrophobia of the West German mines is palpable; Vietnamese jungles and bases appear authentic; and the collective grief of TV show ‘Reuniting Separated Families’ is powerfully poignant.

However in each case the impressive production values are undermined as melodrama is exalted above all else, serving to greatly limit the impact such scenes attempt to generate. Director Yoon is so determined to make audiences cry during the (a)historical vignettes that national pride and overacting take place over subtlety and good taste.

The scenes in Vietnam are employed merely to at as a crude parallel to Korea decades earlier and to boast of the nation’s advancement, while a dramatic bomb blast sequence is all but ruined due to a voice over articulating Korean struggles. Yeong-ja is forced to halt her legitimate argument with Deok-soo in order to rise to the national anthem (reportedly President Park Geun-hye’s favourite scene according to several news outlets). Even conveying the importance of TV show Reuniting Separated Families is impaired when an American adoptee, who cannot speak Korean, suddenly recalls perfect sentences from her youth 30 years prior while wailing uncontrollably.

Deok-soo’s journey to Vietnam acts as a crude parallel to Korea

Further exacerbating the situation is the manner in which Korean celebrities are horribly shoehorned in throughout the narrative, as well as the representation of youths as ungrateful, rude and self-centred, which serve to provide catharsis for the target audience – middle-aged Koreans – and in that sense is a resounding success, but the achievements come at the cost of context, respect and decency.

Carrying the entirety of the film on his shoulders is Hwang Jeong-min, a usually reliable actor with an impressive filmography, yet in Ode To My Father his theatrically is unnecessarily excessive and akin to a bad TV drama. Certain scenes are absolutely cringeworthy to experience, particularly his rendition of being elderly. Kim Yoon-jin fares slightly better as wife Yeong-ja, yet that’s primarily due to her character’s absence for much of the running time once she’s served her purpose of marriage. There is no chemistry between them thanks to the poor script and characterisation, which attempts to make the couple saintly figures.

Oh Dal-soo, as is often the case, is the most entertaining presence. Using his knack for great comic timing he is fun to watch, and ironically it’s his bromance with Deok-soo that forms the central relationship of the film. However even Oh Dal-so cannot save Ode To My Father from being little more than a well-made nationalistic melodrama.

Whilst working in Germany Deok-soo falls head over heels for nurse Yeong-ja

Verdict:

Ode To My Father boasts an epic scale and lavish production values yet is a disturbingly nationalistic and highly melodramatic take on recent Korean history. Director Yoon Je-kyoon is determined to force audiences to cry throughout his revisionist tale and for middle-aged Korean it undoubtedly provides catharsis, while simply perpetuating the alarming trend of ultra-conservative cinema for everyone else.

★★☆☆☆

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August 6, 2015December 28, 2015

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Detective K: Secret of the Lost Island (조선명탐정: 놉의 딸) – ★★☆☆☆

Detective K: Secret of the Lost Island (조선명탐정: 놉의 딸)

It’s 1975, and Joseon (Korea) is struggling. The country relies heavily on imported goods from Japan to sustain the economy, particularly silver. Yet when a deluge of counterfeit silver currency enters circulation, Joseon’s very existence comes under threat. Detective Kim Min (Kim Myeong-min (김명민) and his trusty sidekick Seo-pil (Oh Dal-soo (오달수) are sent to investigate, however instead of being rewarded for his efforts the sleuth is bizarrely exiled onto a tiny island. There he befriends young servant girl Da-hae (Lee Chae-eun (이채은) whose sister has mysteriously disappeared and, disregarding his royal punishment, sets out to solve the both the counterfeit silver and kidnap conundrums, yet what role does Japanese giaseng Hisako (Lee Yeon-hee (이연희) play?

Detective K and Seo-pil again find themselves on a madcap race for their lives

Comedy-sequel Detective K: Secret of the Lost Island is much like the original – colourful and madcap, sporadically humorous, and tonally all over the place. Kim Seok-yoon steps back into the director’s chair bringing all the same strengths and weaknesses as before, resulting in halfhearted yet quite amiable Sunday matinee fare.

One of the great strengths of Detective K: Secret of the Virtuous Widow was the tongue-in-cheek nature of the comedy combined with an OTT pretentious hero who, more often than not, was a victim of slapstick situations of his own making. Detective K 2 delivers much the same, as investigator Kim and loyal sidekick Seo-pil are caught in farcical situations that end in silly humiliations. However as much of the original’s charm has dissipated, such encounters provoke titters rather than laughs. This is often due to a lack of gags and set pieces, but primarily a consequence of the relationship alteration between the lead duo. In the first instalment the pair frequently clashed, comedically employing misdirection as their friendship developed, yet in Detective K 2 they are close comrades and the chemistry has dulled as writers Kim Su-jin and Lee Nam-gyoo have characterised the duo as more serious, and sometimes downright mean, in nature. Actor Kim Myeong-min still hams it up as the arrogant sleuth as best he can despite given far less opportunity to do so, while his frankly horrible characterisation towards servant girl Da-hae makes him quite dislikable as well as detracting from his journey to solve the case. Meanwhile Oh Dal-soo tries desperately to make his character more relevant in a story that largely regards him as a prop.

Detective Kim and Seo-pil continue to find themselves in slapstick stiuations

Detective K 2, while competently helmed by returning director Kim Seok-yeon and featuring the same impressively zany and colourful interpretation of old Korea, contains tonal imbalances even more severe than the previous instalment. In the original the largely fun narrative gave way to a story about religious persecution which diluted the light-hearted appeal; in the sequel however the case involving counterfeit silver gives way to themes involving prostitution, child slavery and murder, and paedophilia. Such issues are not appropriate nor ripe material for a slapstick adventure like Detective K and naturally the film suffers for it.

Despite such concerns, Detective K 2 is generally a well-made and jovial jaunt through old Joseon. The film consistently features attractive set designs and amusing comedy set pieces, enough to consider it an enjoyable, if largely forgettable, viewing experience. That said, if director Kim Seok-yoon wishes to return and complete a successful final instalment for a Detective K trilogy, the tonal imbalances, characterisation, and a female role that requires the respective actress to do something other than look attractive, is an absolute necessity.

Giaseng Hisako has mysterious motivations

Verdict:

Comedy sequel Detective K: Secret of the Lost Island is a zany and cheerful jaunt through old Joseon, much like its predecessor only less so. While returning director Kim Seok-yoon helms the shenanigans competently, the film suffers greatly from mismanaged characterisation as well as employing weighty themes involving child murder, slavery and prostitution. Sporadically humorous, Detective K 2 is amiable, yet quite forgettable, matinee fare.

★★☆☆☆

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August 5, 2015December 28, 2015

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Gangnam Blues (강남 1970) – ★★☆☆☆

Gangnam Blues (강남 1970)

In the 1970s as Korea attempts to rebuild itself following the devastation of the war, the attention of the political and social elite turns to a new vital area of power – land. The countryside region known as Gangnam (literally ‘south of the river’) rapidly becomes the most desirable, with each faction preparing schemes and machinations in order to accumulate the most profit. Yet for such plans to achieve fruition first the democractic parties need to be quashed, and local ragmen and best friends Jong-dae (Lee Min-ho (이민호) and Yong-gi (Kim Rae-won (김래원) are hired to join mobsters in obstructing the movement. During the fight however the duo become separated yet three years later they meet again, as the leaders of rival gangs all vying for the lucrative land in Gangnam.

Yong-gi and Jong-dae are reunited three years later as friends and rivals

Boasting high production values throughout, director Yoo Ha’s Gangnam Blues is a well made gangster flick which explores the rise of the now-affluent district of Seoul with interest. Yet as much of the narrative developments occur in repetitive boardroom meetings tedium quickly sets in which, combined with the overly long running time, make the film a moderate slice of genre entertainment.

Alongside Once Upon A Time in High School (2004) and A Dirty Carnival (2006), Gangnam Blues is the final instalment of writer/director Yoo Ha’s ‘street trilogy’ and is arguably his most visually sophisticated film to date in a resume that also comprises A Frozen Flower and Howling. Director Yoo employs his locations and colours effectively to create a surprisingly vibrant crime drama, with the lush greens of the old Gangnam countryside impressively contrasted with the grey city environs and shadowy clandestine meeting rooms, while still managing to save the best for last with the film’s remarkably violent-yet-attractive final battle royale. The sets are also generally superbly realised, notably the country dry cleaning store in run by former crime boss Gi-soo, articulating the great deal of effort spent on generating high quality production values. While such stages are required as Korea’s landscapes have so vastly altered, however, ironically such settings do often convey a manufactured sensibility that lacks the gritty authenticity of the era and serves to pull audiences from the story.

For fans of Korea there is also enjoyment to be had in watching the rise of Seoul’s most famous district. The collusion between politicians, the social elite and crime syndicates in developing Gangnam for their own corrupt purposes is initially fascinating to experience, as morality and the distinctions between them are erased in their mutual pursuit of greed and power. The film is largely based on historical fact in this respect and frequently insinuates that today’s politicians, now sporting incredible wealth and status, were the greatest criminals of the era, a feature that is so on the nose that Gangnam Blues opens with a preface explaining it as a fictitious story and sparring director Yoo legal ramifications.

Politicians and gangsters collude as most developments occur in clandestine boardroom meetings

Politicians and gangsters collude as developments occur in clandestine boardroom meetings

Yet while the origins of Gangnam’s progress are interesting, so much of the narrative development occurs within boardroom meetings that repetition and tedium quickly arise. Indeed, there are so many conversations of cheating farmers out of land, plans for redevelopment and betraying allies that compulsion wanes and such a strong sense of déjà vu occurs it feels as if the film is on repeat. Coupled with an overabundance of characters on all sides vying for power as well as an overly long running time of 2 hours and 15 minutes, boredom frequently ensues.

To humanise the story amongst all the political machinations, poverty stricken ‘ragmen’ Jong-dae and Yong-gi give the story focus and heart, yet they are marginally successful in doing so. As the central protagonists they succeed in drawing attention but the characterisation is particularly weak making it difficult to fully invest in what they try to achieve. There are several attempts throughout the narrative to generate more intense emotional connections with them, such as scenes involving Jong-dae’s sister Seon-hye (Kpop’s AOA star Seol-hyun) as a victim of domestic abuse, the fleeting and redundant love interests both have, as well as a handful of unnecessary and gratuitous sexual sequences, yet they all fall flat and have little bearing on the story with most so easy to disregard they don’t even bother to receive any kind of resolution.

Gangnam Blues has largely been marketed as a vehicle for Lee Min-ho, who admirably tries to break out of his star mould and become an actor in his own right. There are glimmers that he is capable of doing so, but he typically falls back on his star image of appearing cooler and more attractive than the supporting cast. As such it’s particularly hard to buy into his status as a crime boss as he lacks the gravitas of his counterparts in the far superior New World and even Nameless Gangster. Kim Rae-won fares better as the ambitious Yong-gi, though marginally so and largely due to the more conflicting situations within which he finds himself.

Jong-dae and his crew prepare for the battle royale

Verdict:

Gangnam Blues is the concluding chapter in writer/director Yoo Ha’s ‘street trilogy’ and marks what is arguably his most visually sophisticated film to date. While he makes great use of colour and environments, and the story of Gangnam’s origins is an interesting one, the crime drama lacks compulsion becoming quite repetitive and tedious during the overly long running time, while Lee Min-ho lacks gravitas.

★★☆☆☆

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August 2, 2015September 4, 2015

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The Shameless (무뢰한) – ★★★☆☆

The Shameless (무뢰한)

When criminal lowlife Hwang is murdered by gang enforcer Park Joon-gil (Park Seong-woong (박성웅), hard-boiled detective Jeong Jae-gon (Kim Nam-gil (김남길) is tasked with locating the felon. The assignment proves problematic as Park is gifted at evading capture, yet his passionate relationship with brothel madam Kim Hye-kyeong (Jeon Do-yeon (전도연) could provide the detective an opportunity for the arrest. Going undercover to win her trust, Jae-gon contends with fending off corrupt cops and violent local gangsters all seeking Joon-gil for their own ends, while struggling to keep up his charade as he becomes increasingly attracted to Hye-kyeong. With his desire for her heightening, Jae-gon discovers his morality becoming progressively blurred.

In the squalid urban landscape, detective Jeong discovers a murder case

Premiering in Un Certain Regard at Cannes 2015, writer/director Oh Seung-wook’s noir thriller The Shameless begins as a visually stimulating and compelling crime thriller before descending into tepid drama at the halfway point. Gorgeously realised and featuring a great performance by the ever-reliable Jeon Do-yeon, The Shameless is ultimately let down by Kim Nam-gil’s uninspired lead and a bland final act.

Helmer/scribe Oh Seung-wook, responsible for penning acclaimed films Green Fish and Christmas in August, steps behind the camera for the first time since 2001’s Kilimanjaro and immediately appears as if he never should have left. The Shameless opens in wonderful style, as a long take follows detective Jeong as he traverses Seoul’s under-construction landscape in the pale blue hue of the dawn, wonderfully articulating the gritty nature of the narrative and the complex attributes of the capital itself. The dilapidated environs, complete with renovation on the horizon, are visually inspiring and set up the region as a wholly believable arena in which crime and corruption are rife.

The plot, too, begins in a satisfactory hardboiled fashion as Jae-gon is assigned to capture fugitive Seong-woong due to a gruesome murder. With both the police force and local gangsters claiming a stake in locating the perpetrator it’s not long before their mutual goals aline, with Jae-gon consistently questioning which side of the law he is now on. To complicate matters, Jae-gon’s increasing attraction to femme fatale Hye-kyeong stirs even greater trouble for them both.

Hostess bar madam and femme fatale Hye-kyeong poses a love interest

Hostess bar madam and femme fatale Hye-kyeong poses a conflict of interest

Yet while all the classic features of film noir are setup, The Shameless becomes difficult to invest in due to the narrative structure alongside Kim Nam-gil’s indistinct performance. The actor certainly gives it his best, but he simply doesn’t have the gravitas or presence to be the hardboiled cop the film requires, while the script’s venture into generic drama territory dismantles the tense noir elements within and ultimately leads to an unsatisfactory finale. Bizarrely, the disappointing climax occurs around the 1hr 40 minute mark with an additional 20 minutes seemingly tacked on as an epilogue of sorts, slavishly dedicated to wrapping up loose narrative tangents. It’s an unnecessary extension, resulting in an overly long running time with little payoff.

Such criticisms do not apply to Jeon Do-yeon however, who adds yet another compelling performance to her already outstanding resume. While she isn’t given a great deal to work with, her turn as strong, street-wise bar madam/prostitute Hye-kyeong is consistently charismatic, imbuing the antagonist with sophisticated canniness and just a hint of vulnerability. Due to the nature of the narrative structure, The Shameless eventually comes to rest on her shoulders and she carries the film much more convincingly than her co-star with her endearing performance.

Hye-kyeong and Jae-gon develop a dangerous relationship within the criminal underworld

Verdict:

The Shameless is a gritty noir crime story by helmer/scribe Oh Seung-wook, who brilliantly employs the urban landscapes of Seoul to construct a visually stimulating film. While the opening is effective in establishing a compelling thriller and the ever-reliable Jeon Do-yeon adds sophistication, the narrative slips into tepid drama and an overly long uninspired finale, making for a competent yet sterile noir tale.

★★★☆☆

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August 1, 2015August 10, 2015

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12 Deep Red Nights : Chapter One (십이야 : 깊고 붉은 열두 개의 밤) – ★★☆☆☆

12 Deep Red Nights: Chapter 1

Horror omnibus films are consistently prevalent in Korean cinema, particularly arising at film festivals where directors – who are typically between projects – use the medium to showcase and experiment with their respective aesthetics through the short story form.

Last year’s horror anthology MAD SAD BAD opened the 2014 Jeonju Int. Film Festival and featured three talented directors experimenting with 3D technology for addition frights. Horror Stories kicked off the 2012 Bucheon Int. Fantastic Film Festival, depicting three tales encapsulated within a larger framework, while sequel Horror Stories 2 appeared at BiFan the following year.

Yet while the format allows directors to experiment with their craft, it also inevitably results in comparisons regarding which tale is more effective, an unfortunate byproduct director Oh In-cheon smartly circumvents by helming all four stories within 12 Deep Red Nights: Chapter 1.

1st Night – Driver

Following his well-received feature debut Mourning Grave, director Oh’s 12 Deep Red Nights: Chapter 1 articulates four tales of woe in the dark recesses of Korea after dark which, while competently helmed, disappointingly lack flair and creativity. While disorientating scenes of the urban nightlife are effective, the omnibus seems to be more akin to a practice run for future endeavours as director Oh experiments with pacing and generating suspense, with actual scares in very short supply. That said, it’s interesting how horror is derived from commonplace features of life in the peninsula.

In 1st Night – Driver, a young socialite calls for a driving service to take her home and begs the driver to kill her, promising to bestow all her wealth as a reward. For foreign audiences the notion of this industry will undoubtedly be initially difficult to digest, yet once accepted as commonplace in Korea the tale becomes an intriguing one. Tension is generated well as the driver struggles with the morality of the situation, yet the climax is a letdown.

2nd Night – PM 11:55 sees a female office worker return to her apartment, unknowingly followed by a hooded figure. Tasked with completing a translation assignment before midnight, the woman achieves her goal with five minutes to spare. Yet as she unwinds, the hooded figure begins consistently ringing her door bell and refuses to leave, with the woman unable to contact the outside world for help. PM 11:55 sets up a sense of panic well, clearly inspired by real circumstances. However director Oh seems unsure how to end the story, which comes to an unsatisfying, abrupt end.

2nd Night 11:55

The next tale, 3rd Night – atmosFEAR (or literally Sounds of a Man) is the most impressive in terms of generating an increasingly heightened aura of suspense. An audio technician requires ambient sound for his latest project, and uses his equipment to record the sounds that occur at night. After capturing conversations of couples arguing, he traverses a countryside area for natural ambience. Yet upon hearing a girl’s scream, he follows his recording equipment to investigate the source. While the camerawork and props are employed to created palpable tension, the finale is easily the most disappointing of all the short stories.

Finally, 4th Night – Secret Night tells the tale of junior office worker Yeong-min who attempts to steal company secrets. This segment is the most narratively driven and complete tale within the film, exploring the fraught dynamic between senior and junior company staff in Korea alongside issues of blackmail. Yet while Secret Night is the most structured tale, it’s also the most bland and laborious due to the overly long running time and drawn out story.

4th Night – Secret Night

Verdict:

Depicting four tales of nightly horror, omnibus 12 Deep Red Nights: Chapter 1 is a competent yet uninspiring addition to director Oh In-cheon’s filmography. The anthology serves more akin to a practice run for future endeavours rather than an inventive take on the genre. While suspense is generated well throughout each story disappointment quickly follows, and is a mediocre effort by a usually solid director.

★★☆☆☆

Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival (제 19회 부천국제판타스틱영화제) Festival News Korean Film Festivals 2015 Reviews

July 30, 2015August 1, 2015

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A Blood Pledge (여고괴담5:동반자살) – ★★☆☆☆

A Blood Pledge (여고괴담 5: 동반자살)

In an all-girls Catholic high school, three best friends struggling with the anxieties in their young lives swear to a suicide pact, resolving to end their suffering together. Yet after their pledge, Soy (Son Eun-seo (손은서), Yoo-jin (Oh Yeon-seo (오연서) and Eun-yeong (Song Min-jeong (송민정) remain alive while a fourth girl, highly academic student Eun-joo (Jang Kyeong-ah (장경아) is found dead having jumped from the school roof. Rumours quickly begin to circulate as to the circumstances surrounding Eun-joo’s suicide, with suspicions regarding Soy’s involvement growing ever more intense. As Eun-joo’s younger sister Jeong-eun (Yoo Shin-ae (유신애) investigates, she appears as if possessed, striving for answers until the shocking truth is finally revealed.

Soy, Yoo-jin and Eun-yeong agree to a suicide pact to end their suffering

The fifth entry in the highly successful Whispering Corridors horror series, A Blood Pledge – AKA Suicide Pact – is certainly the most poorly conceived. Aside from some occasionally interesting moments regarding female high school relationships, the weak narrative, feeble directing and frankly horrible editing and special effects combine to produce an especially fruitless K-horror that lacks any scares.

Writer/director Lee Jong-yong attempts to craft a A Blood Pledge as a gothic horror mystery of sorts, employing religious iconography and non-linear timeline to generate the required chills. Unfortunately for the filmmaker, none of it works. Visually, A Blood Pledge is particularly lacking both aesthetically and in finesse as suspense is fleetingly generated, while the constant flashbacks add more confusion than tension due to their seemingly random insertion and absence of visual cues differentiating time periods. Thematically the narrative touches upon some key issues of Korean teenage life – volatile relationships, importance of grades in school hierarchy, the class divide – yet as they are typically only briefly alluded and with character development curiously absent, it’s tough to invest in Soy’s journey or find it remotely compelling.

Rumours surrounding Soy’s involvement in Eun-joo’s suicide quickly circulate

A Blood Pledge could make up for its shortcomings with some effective horror sequences, yet in this regard the film also fails. While the film aims for generic scares, there is little or no attempt to build the pre-requisite suspense that leads to them. When the vengeful spirit does indeed appear to exact revenge, the scenes are cringeworthy in their awfulness. Featuring laughable special effects or more generally a bloodied ghost in dark lighting, the horror sequences don’t just fail to induce chills but serve to draw the audience from the story. A scene involving an exploding head followed by a rapidly reversing car is the most notable offence, positively screaming budget constraints as well as poor conception.

The film also suffers from undeveloped narrative strands and illogical motivations. A subplot involving bad boy Gi-ho and his rich mother is never pursued despite its open-ended nature, while Eun-yeong’s relationship with her abusive father isn’t explored, amongst others. Notably, a pregnant student doesn’t want to proceed with an abortion yet would rather commit suicide instead. Fallacies such as these halt any potential depth that could have been ascribed to the narrative, resulting in a particularly underwhelming fifth entry into an otherwise successful horror franchise.

A vengeful ghost exacts revenge

Verdict:

A Blood Pledge is the fifth entry in the Whispering Corridors horror series by writer/director Lee Jong-yong, and is easily the weakest in the franchise. While aspects of female high school relationships are alluded to, the poor script, bland directing and cringeworthy scenes of horror alongside a confusing timeline structure make A Blood Pledge one for K-horror aficionados only.

★★☆☆☆

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July 27, 2015December 28, 2015

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The Chosen: Forbidden Cave (퇴마: 무녀굴) – ★☆☆☆☆

The Chosen: Forbidden Cave (퇴마: 무녀굴)

N.B. This review is based on the Bucheon Fantastic Film Festival 2015 edit, screened at the closing ceremony.

Psychologist Jin-myeong (Kim Seong-gyoon (김성균) is unique in his trade as one of the few professionals who considers supernatural phenomena when treating clients, performing exorcisms with apprentice Ji-gwang (Kim Hye-seong (김혜성) when the need arises. Due to his unorthodox methods Jin-myeong has earned a notable reputation, attracting the unwanted attention of documentary producer Hye-in (Cha Ye-ryeon (차예련). Yet they are forced to combine their efforts when a disturbing new case occurs, as art curator Geum-joo (Yoo Seon (유선) is at the mercy of a particularly vindictive spirit, the secrets of which originate from forgotten childhood memories and a ghostly cave.

Geun-joo’s possession proves an extremely difficult task for psychologist/exorcist Jin-myeong

With a solid premise but poor execution, director Kim Hwi’s horror/thriller The Chosen: Forbidden Cave is heavy on frustration and light on scares. As the closing film for BiFan’s 2015 edition, the festival’s claim of the film’s ability to ‘punch up the horror scene’ in the industry is unfortunately pure hyperbole as The Chosen is, aside from a few well-constructed set-pieces, a bland addition in dire need of a re-edit.

The Chosen: Forbidden Cave begins in intriguing fashion as Jin-myeong lectures on the importance of shamanism when considering diagnosis, with a handful of scares to sell the concept. Yet from there the narrative rapidly descends into chaos as characters and themes randomly arise and recede, with the audience expected to instinctively know their place within the story. Jin-myeong appears to have the ability of foresight through dreams yet it is never made clear while a subplot, possibly involving his wife and a botched exorcism, is never explained; his subordinate Ji-gwang just seemingly appears during consultations while his supernatural gifts – other than furiously shaking a plant during treatments – are not ascertained; documentary producer Hye-in’s history and motivations are not revealed; and most importantly, there is zero logic in the aimless actions of the vindictive spirit that inhabits Geum-joo. Frustration quickly sets in as characters and events occur randomly, with a re-edit, and much greater elaboration and development, sorely needed.

The search for answers to Geum-joo’s affliction takes the team into horrific territory

While the ghost that inhabits Geum-joo is aggravatingly indiscriminate, the haphazard nature allows director Kim to stage a variety of horror set pieces that are generally well-constructed. While they are cliche and form a story more akin to a series of horror sequences than a coherent whole, the macabre scenes serve to present the tropes expected from the genre. Problematically however, as there are so many sequences of this manner, the impact and effectiveness of the horror is lost as audiences become increasingly immune.

Furthermore, the use of the 1948 Jeju Massacre as the ultimate source of terror within The Chosen is in particularly bad taste. Not that the tragic event doesn’t lend itself well to the genre, but the manner in which the tragedy is employed and interpreted as antiquated and misandrist, in need of purging by contemporary patriarchy and Christianity, is borderline offensive.

Actor Kim Seong-gyoon fares the best as psychologist/exorcist Jin-myeong within The Chosen. His stoic turn as the broad-minded professional halts emotional investment in the journey yet provides a solid foundation from which the events revolve around. The rest of the cast do not prosper as well. Yoo Seon is generally required to run around screaming and crying, while Cha Ye-ryeon and Kim Hye-seong are present merely to appear attractive and little else.

Horrific truths await in the cave

Verdict:

Aside from a solid premise and the occasional well-constructed horror sequence, The Chosen: Forbidden Cave is a big misstep from director Kim Hwi. The events and characters within the film appear and recede indiscriminately throughout the haphazard narrative while any sort of development is a rarity. The Chosen is a frustratingly bland addition to the K-horror scene.

★☆☆☆☆

Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival (제 19회 부천국제판타스틱영화제) Festival News Korean Film Festivals 2015 Reviews

July 25, 2015September 26, 2015

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Sunshine (선샤인) – ★★☆☆☆

Sunshine (선샤인)

North Korean refugee Seol-ji (Dana (다나) was a propaganda poster artist for the Dear Leader prior to her escape. Now settled in a district in Seoul with friend Soon-yeong (Lee Mi-so (이미소), Seol-ji works delivering flowers for a fellow refugee and paints during her spare time. Her skill is such that ambitious documentary director Shin-woong (Kang Eun-taek (강은탁) begs to film her and reveal Seol-ji’s talent to the world, yet she is reluctant due to the ramifications for her family should her North Korean identity be discovered. Agreeing to cancel her face on camera, the duo work together to craft a documentary about art yet quickly learn that Seol-ji’s abilities become problematic when asked to construct something original.

Documentary director Shin-woong begs Seol-ji to be his muse

Sweet and amiable, writer/director Park Jin-soon’s Sunshine is a rare breed of romantic-drama that leaves audiences with a resonating sense of contentment after the credits have run, yet when probed is ultimately found to be lacking in substance.

Helmer/scribe Park Jin-soon is competent at his craft and Sunshine begins in a promisingly quirky and infectious fashion, as eccentric artist Seol-ji and her rather unorthodox lifestyle are introduced alongside documentary director/borderline stalker Shin-woong who’s so desperate to capture her work on film. Their dynamic is enjoyable as Seol-ji’s reluctance to be filmed and Shin-woong’s persistence to do so clash with predictably entertaining results, informing a hint of romance underpinning the proceedings, while the picturesque Jeju Island scenery ensures the film is an attractive one throughout.

On the condition of anonymity Seol-ji agrees to be the subject of the documentary, and from there Sunshine begins its decline into mediocrity, albeit a very genial one.

A burgeoning romance underpins the collaboration

As Sunshine continues in charmingly amicable fashion, a host of subplots are interweaved into the narrative yet none are prioritised, compelling or given resolution. The story gently trundles along as the hints of romance that develop between Seol-ji and Shin-woong are given a slight love triangle twist, as Seol-ji struggles to draw anything original, as Shin-woong has problems at work, and so forth. Yet while such issues are featured, exploration simply isn’t present making it difficult to invest in their respective trajectories. The most glaring area this arises is in Seol-ji’s status as a North Korean residing in Seoul. Scant scenes touch upon the issue but in no real depth, aside from some last minute sequences with best friend Soon-yeong.

Sunshine is an enjoyable viewing experience largely due to actress Dana’s charismatic turn as artist Seol-ji. Dana infuses the character with a disarming innocence and vulnerability alongside passion and integrity, making what could have easily been a bland story into an entertaining one.

Shin-woong notices something specia and hiddenl in Seol-ji’s work

Verdict:

Sunshine is an enjoyable romantic drama that leaves audiences content with its genial themes, yet scratching the surface reveals a real lack of substance. Writer/director Park Jin-soon has crafted an amiable and visually attractive story yet one that never explores the host of subplots within, notably regarding North Korean issues. However, Dana’s charismatic performance elevates Sunshine into an entertaining tale.

★★☆☆☆

Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival (제 19회 부천국제판타스틱영화제) Festival News Korean Film Festivals 2015 Reviews

July 17, 2015July 30, 2015

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Possessed (불신지옥) – ★★★☆☆

Possessed (불신지옥)

Living in Seoul is a tough existence for Hee-jin (Nam Sang-mi (남상미). Studying for exams during the day while moonlighting at night as a personal tutor and convenience store clerk, Hee-jin’s health is beginning to suffer from a combination of stress and exhaustion. Her usual routine is disturbed one night when younger sister So-jin (Sim Eun-kyeong (심은경) abruptly calls and leaves a mysterious message…however the next morning when Hee-jin’s mother (Kim Bo-yeon (김보연) informs her that So-jin is missing, she becomes worried and decides to return home to help with the search. Teaming with detective Tae-hwan (Ryoo Seung-ryong (류승룡), the duo begin to notice strange machinations and events occurring at the apartment complex, yet So-jin is still nowhere to be found.

Hee-jin feels something is terribly wrong in the apartment complex

An impressive addition to the K-horror canon, Possessed – as known as Living Death – is a pertinent example of eerily-effective and scarily-suspenseful storytelling on a tight budget. Director Lee Yong-joo’s debut is a potent mix of the horrors of religious fervour and taught claustrophobic locations that, while lacking in terms of character development and resolutions, is an accomplished chiller.

Proving that large budgets aren’t necessary to create unsettling tension and scares, director Lee instead relies on generating fear through the claustrophobic environs of a dilapidated apartment block to great effect throughout Possessed. The methods in which he produces moments of terror by exploiting the narrow confines of rooms and hallways, in conjunction with unnerving close-ups and chiaroscuro lighting, makes the film consistently disturbing and serves to make Hee-jin’s search for her missing sister all the more compelling. Thankfully, director Lee rarely employs cheap ‘jump’ scares to frighten his audience, generally taking his time to develop a sense of foreboding so that the sense of dread resonates throughout.

Hee-jin enlists the help of cynical detective Tae-hwan

Possessed is also memorable for its chief source of horror – religious fervour. As Hee-ji and obstinate detective Tae-hwan begin to search for So-jin, they uncover an array of eccentric residents within the apartment complex each with their own odd peculiarities and ties to the missing girl. The narrative potently examines how folk who have endured difficulties turn to religious ideologies with frightening levels of enthusiasm, and the clues uncovered reveal a number of potential suspects in the case that adds greatly to the suspense.

Yet the horror film is not without issues, particularly in regards to character development and resolution which are generally lacking. This is acutely the case with Hee-jin who, aside from the fact her younger sister is missing, has very little of her life revealed. Hints are laced though the film that she has supernatural gifts although such themes frustratingly go unresolved. Actress Nam Sang-mi however gives a great performance in the role and generates enough likeable charm that it’s impossible not to invest in her story. Other resolutions, such as the apparent ‘possession,’ present certain motifs such as the elegant crane yet answers are in short supply, while the film ironically ultimately ties up all loose ends far too neatly in order to adhere to a generically satisfactory finale.

Flashbacks shed light on So-jin’s mysterious disappearance

Verdict:

Possessed is an impressive K-horror by debut director Lee Yong-joo, who uses his tight budget highly effectively to craft a suspense-filled tale of intrigue about a missing girl. Employing claustrophobic environs and a story that examines the frightening religious fervour within communities, Possessed is – lack of character development and resolutions notwithstanding – a chilling delight.

★★★☆☆

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July 6, 2015July 30, 2015

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Northern Limit Line (연평해전) – ★☆☆☆☆

Northern Limit Line (연평해전)

Northern Limit Line is based on the true story of Second Battle of Yeonpyeong, a confrontation that occurred between North and South Korean forces on June 29th, 2002 in the disputed waters in the Yellow Sea.

In June 2002, South Koreans are united in World Cup fervour as the national team progresses further and further towards the final. Yet while the general public are rejoicing at the sporting event, the navy continue to patrol the maritime border near Yeonpyeong Island. Despite a few incidents involving North Korean fishermen, Captain Yoon Yeong-ha’s (Kim Moo-yeol (김무열) crew, comprised of Sergeant Han Sang-gook (Jin Goo (진구) and newbie medic Corporal Park Dong-hyeok (Lee Hyun-woo (이현우) amongst others, are in high spirits – until a boat from the North engages them in a surprise, brutal assault.

Camaraderie is strong as the crew celebrate South Korea’s World Cup achievements

An unadulterated exercise in propaganda, Northern Limit Line deserves recognition for its crowdfunded origins and helmer Kim Hak-soon’s dedication to bring it to the big screen, yet precious little else. Shoddily written, poorly directed, and featuring some of the worst editing in recent memory, the war thriller is a poor testament to those who lost their lives in the conflict, with the only saving grace arriving in the form of the emotionally charged documentary footage tacked on in the film’s dying moments. Conservative Koreans however are likely to find much to enjoy.

Northern Limit Line is clearly a passion project for writer/director Kim Hak-soon, who spent seven years developing the project as well as generating roughly a third of the $6 million budget through crowdfunding, an impressive feat to be sure. It’s bizarre then that during that time frame the script wasn’t cultivated into a coherent whole, one that details and examines the complex political situation of the era alongside a humanist angle facilitated by the inter-personal relationships between the crew. Instead, Kim has opted to remove any shred of context from the narrative, simplifying events to a base ‘good South Korean vs. evil North Korean’ rhetoric that embarrassingly evokes memories of ’80s cinema. The Northerners are consistently represented grimacing, scowling, or with facial scarring to emphasise their villainy, whilst their darkened uniforms and blackened boats signify their macabre intentions; the Southerns meanwhile typically joke and play pranks, are faithful to their loved ones, and live a generally idealistic life. Such visual cues, removed from political context and intricacies, results in Northern Limit Line conforming to a mere piece of propaganda, the likes of which were similarly present in 2014 box office hit The Admiral, and are becoming an increasingly disturbing cinematic trend.

Medic Dong-hyeok prepares to battle the grimacing North Korean navy

Scribe/helmer Kim has routinely stated that his desire to complete Northern Limit Line was due to lack of public awareness regarding the young men who lost their lives during the conflict. It’s a noble resolution, yet his endeavours ultimately fall short. Throughout the narrative the characterisation is more akin to a poor TV drama than film, as the lives of the officers are constructed employing melodramatic cliche after cliche specifically designed to force audiences to engage emotionally, yet the far-from-subtle manner utilised does just the opposite. Each member of the crew has threadbare development with resolutions consistently unanswered, however as they all feature occasional scenes caring for an impoverished loved one, audiences are expected to invest in their respective trajectories.

The myriad of superfluous protagonists compound this lack of engagement further, as random naval officers and civilians alike enter a scene, utter a few words of dialogue, and then exit without ever really stating their purpose. A female officer (performed by Cheon Min-hee (천민희) exemplifies this issue as she interacts with the central cast, yet adds no agency to the story other than to appear attractive.

The editing in Northern Limit Line is simply appalling. The film frequently jumps between the officers patrolling the Yellow Sea and the World Cup celebrations occurring in Seoul to confusing effect, and doesn’t have any baring on the story. If anything, director Kim seems to be implying that the Korean public are to blame for caring about a sporting event rather than the conflict that arises.

As Northern Limit Line enters the final act, the assault upon which the film is based arises. The battle is competently constructed and immersive, yet also overly long and disorientating due to the direction. Ironically it is after the battle scenes that the war film finds its saving grace – the real-life documentary footage of the fallen officers being laid to rest. It’s impossible not to be moved by such emotive scenes as the anguish expressed by bereaved families is palpable, while the interviews with survivors – which oddly appear during the end credits – are also deeply poignant tributes to their comrades.

The battle sequence reveals the horrors of warfare

Verdict:

Northern Limit Line is an unadulterated exercise in cinematic propaganda, one that construct a simplistic account of the terrible event by removing the complex political context of the era. Crudely written, poorly directed and horribly edited, the maritime war film’s only redeeming feature is the poignant real-life documentary footage that deeply touching. Northern Limit Line is one for hardcore nationalists only.

★☆☆☆☆