Pluto (명왕성)

Pluto (명왕성) – ★★★★☆

Pluto (명왕성)

Pluto (명왕성)

The Korean education system is infamous for it’s grueling and oppressive culture, and the stress imposed on youngsters has often been the subject of film. Typically such themes appear in the form of teenage horrors, such as the successful Whispering Corridors series, whereby the pressures of constant examinations and competition from other students prove too much to bear for their very souls.

With Pluto (명왕성), director Shin Su-won (신수원) takes a dramatic-thriller approach to the topic and the result is fantastic. Employing the technical prowess and artistic sensibilities that earned her the Canal Plus prize for her short Circle Line (순환선) at Cannes, director Shin deftly explores the weighty subject matter with skill. Even more impressive is that Pluto manages to straddle both the independent aesthetic realm as well as more mainstream territory, a remarkable achievement given that it’s only her second feature film. While some critics have lamented the inclusion of more generic features, it is a wise move on director Shin’s part as it solidifies her name through the industry as a talent to watch.

At a highly prestigious high school that produces some of the most elite students in Korea, top student Yun-jin (Seong Joon (성준) is found murdered in a nearby forest. Immediately suspected is frosty roommate Joon (David Lee (이다윗), yet with a sound alibi his release is assured. Yet Joon knows much more about the circumstances surrounding Yun-jin’s death than he reveals, and gathers the most elite student group at school together to discover the killer.

The elite students run the school, forging a secret society

The elite students run the school, forging a secret society

Pluto begins with all the hallmarks of a highly competent independent thriller, as Yun-jin is stalked in the woods until he meets his untimely demise in suitably shocking fashion. Yet from such humble beginnings director Shin skillfully intertwines such low-budget aesthetics with thriller conventions, as prime suspect Joon is immediately questioned by detectives; however his intelligence proves too great for the officers to cope with, and with zero evidence, he is released. Both realms are consolidated incredibly well through the use of the non-linear narrative as Joon – sporting rebellious blue hair – in the present holds suspects captive as time counts down, while flashbacks to Joon’s admission to the school convey the character driven foundations.

The method is wonderfully effective in articulating the intense pressures enforced on students, whilst simultaneously providing each member of the school motive for Yun-jin’s murder. Director Shin approaches the topic with keen insight – perhaps unsurprising given her history as a teacher – as she emphasises how parental wealth, greedy tutors, and corrupt school officials are all accountable in the creation of highly intelligent yet morally questionable youths. And their actions are certainly unconscionable, as awful acts of cruelty are performed within the elite secret society of top tier students, ranging from sexual assault, bullying, bludgeoning animals and vandalism that ultimately result in suicide and murder.

Acts of vandalism are overlooked by officials in the bid to produce the best candidates

Acts of vandalism are overlooked by officials in the bid to produce the best candidates

Yet as ‘evil’ as their deeds are, director Shin fully develops each elite student as a victim in their own right. The lack of parental guidance and the encouraged desire to win at any cost pushes them into psychological instability. Their wildly spinning moral compass is, director Shin conveys, the result of a fundamentally corrupt education and class system that is doomed to repeat itself. The narrative wonderfully explores what happens when someone dares to challenge such a system through Joon, as he attempts to breach a social and educational class supposedly beyond his reach. Joon’s creativity and alternative perspective on life is brilliantly realised through his discussion on Pluto’s demotion, a theory that superbly encapsulates the very essence of the story – the belief that the sun/exam results are the center of the universe/life is not only flawed but wholly arrogant.

Lee David (이다윗) is highly competent in his performance as Joon. The novice actor does well in conveying an initially hopeful and interesting young man whose jealousy and desire leads him on a darker path. As his originality and creativity are quashed for the sake of exam results, the transformation into amorality is wholly believable.

Yet despite so many positive accomplishments, the final act was lamented by some critics for its use of generic conventions. This is an understandable criticism although one that is somewhat nitpicking. What director Shin has achieved with Pluto is remarkable, as she has taken a film with a keen social message and made it mainstream; a two-for-one in promoting debate on a serious Korean issue as well as solidifying her reputation as director of talent.

The intense stress and competition becomes to much to bear for Joon

The intense stress and competition becomes to much to bear for Joon

Verdict:

Pluto is an excellent exploration of the intense Korean education system, and the highly intelligent yet morally questionable youth that it creates. It’s a stunning feature film from director Shin Su-won, whose keen eye for symbolism and character study is articulated throughout. One of the great strengths of the film is the manner in which director Shin combines both the independent aesthetic with the mainstream thriller, simultaneously promoting debate on an important social issue as well as cementing herself as a quality director. Thoroughly recommended.

★★★★☆

International Women's Film Festival in Seoul (서울국제여성영화제) Reviews
The students begin their road trip full of optimism

Sunshine Boys (1999, 면회) – ★★★☆☆

Sunshine Boys (1999, 면회)

Sunshine Boys (1999, 면회)

Debuting at the 2012 Busan International Film Festival, and invited to the 2013 Rotterdam International Film Festival for its international premiere, independent drama Sunshine Boys (1999, 면회) has already garnered noteworthy attention and acclaim. Helmed by director Kim Tae-gon (김태곤), the story follows Sang-won (Shim Hee-seop (심희섭) and Seung-joon (Ahn Jae-hong (안재홍) as they embark on a road trip to visit pal Min-wook (Kim Chang-hwan (김창환), who is currently serving  mandatory military service in Busan. As the three reunite for the first time since high school, they discover that events have changed them into quite different people than they remember. Learning about each other once more, the friends meet pretty tea house worker Mi-yeon (Kim Kkobbi (김꽃비) and the night unfolds in a different way than they planned.

The students begin their road trip full of optimism

The students begin their road trip full of optimism

Director Kim Tae-gon, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Jeon Go-woon, employs a social-realist aesthetic throughout the film that makes the encounters full of genuine tension and irony-fueled exchanges. The awkwardness between Sang-won and Seung-joon as they drive together is a mixture of comical and poignant as they attempt to rediscover each other, yet can only use their past as a basis. Similarly when Min-wook is reprimanded by a superior officer only slightly older than him, the results are uncomfortable yet humorous in the attempt to assert dominate masculinity amongst young men. Throughout, the director also employs filters that drain the color from the images, creating a bleak atmosphere that connotes the stage in which the threesome find themselves; victims of the Asian financial crisis of the late ’90s, all three friends are attempting to cope with their current situations that stand in stark contrast to the bright future promised from their days in high school.

Sang-won, Min-wook and Seung-joon learn about each other once again

Sang-won, Min-wook and Seung-joon learn about each other once again

As the emphasis is squarely placed on realism, it takes quite some time for the narrative to get moving, and for much of the opening Sunshine Boys is filled with awkward character moments rather than impetus. A catalyst does however arrive in the form of a letter from Min-wook’s girlfriend Esther stating her desire to break up, and who has charged Seung-joon with its delivery. Initially outraged, Sang-won and Seung-joon continually debate on whether they should hand over the letter and much of the story revolves around their indecision. Yet the film is very much Sang-won’s story as a shy and moderately gloomy university student who is forever changed by the events of the trip. The sullen young man hints at his problems without stating them outright, resulting in an often unemotional central protagonist but one that is easily relatable.

The real test for Sang-won arrives in the form of pretty tea house worker Mi-yeon, who invites him and his pals for a drink at her workplace. Director Kim Tae-gon does a great job of making the establishment foreboding with great use of lighting, isolating the tea house as disreputable, emphasizing the naivety of the young men who enter despite the warning signs. As they drink alcohol the protagonists loosen and they start to reveal more about their issues, granting greater insight into their insecurities and motivations. Yet it is Mi-yeon,wonderfully performed by Kim Kkobbi, that steals the limelight within Sunshine Boys as it is her character that provides compulsion for all involved with her suggestive smiles, probing questions and provocative body language. Mi-yeon is an intriguing character who is simultaneously innocent yet worldly-wise, attractive yet dangerous, and it is largely due to her that the film is so compelling.

The three friends meet pretty tea house worker Mi-yeon

The three friends meet pretty tea house worker Mi-yeon

Verdict:

Sunshine Boys is a highly interesting independent drama about three friends attempting to discover each other once again, after their lives have taken unexpected courses. Director Kim Tae-gon does a great job in featuring awkward, ironic moments in the lives of young men, which are granted extra potency with the application of social-realist aesthetics and drained color palette. The story does however take a very long time in establishing itself and as such the general sense of impetus suffers. Yet the wonderfully understated performance by Kim Kkobbi as Mi-yeon puts Sunshine Boys back on track, making the film an interesting journey of maturation.

★★★☆☆

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The cruelty and injustice of life becomes too much to endure for the friends

King of Pigs (돼지의 왕) – ★★★★☆

King of Pigs (돼지의 왕)

King of Pigs (돼지의 왕)

‘Mature animations’ have, rather unfortunately, rarely been a staple in ‘Western’ cinematic culture. ‘Mature’ has often been mistaken for ‘sexualised’ due to marketing ploys attempting to introduce the concept. Yet in ‘Eastern’ cinema mature animations have proved popular for exploring a variety of adult and socio-political themes, ideological explorations which would often require a vast budget in the live-action arena.

Through his independent feature King of Pigs (돼지의 왕), writer/director Yeon Sang-ho (연상호) has produced an exceptionally powerful social critique of Korean culture. While the limited budget is at times visible and the acting occasionally over-zealous, King of Pigs is a stark and violent examination of patriarchal and hierarchical society, as well as the role of capitalism and corruption in defining one’s existence.

As a struggling writer, Jeong Jong-seok (Yang Ik-joon (양익준) is continually frustrated in his attempts at becoming a published author. Bullied by his boss for daring to give an opinion over a piece of writing, Jong-seok has a violent encounter with his wife as a result. Storming outside to clear his head, Jong-seok receives a call from a childhood friend he hasn’t spoken to in several years, Hwang Kyeong-min (Oh Jeong-se (오정세). Meeting for dinner, the two old friends reminisce about their youth and the difficulties of living and studying in an all boys’ middle school. Yet the conversation takes a darker tone when the topic of their old mutual friend Kim Cheol (Kim Hye-na (김혜나) arises, and secrets long buried are finally revealed.

After 15 years of no contact, Kyeong-min (right) calls Jong-seok for a reunion

After 15 years of no contact, Kyeong-min (right) calls Jong-seok for a reunion

King of Pigs is an incredibly gritty, violent examination of the childhood years experienced by contemporary middle aged men, and pulls no punches in emphasizing the Confucian and capitalist value systems as the route of all evil in Korean society. The narrative is one of the most powerful expressions of ‘Han’ cinema in recent years as the social injustice and inequality depicted provide the protagonists with palpable angst and rage, which director Yeon Sang-ho exploits by increasing tension to such an uncomfortable degree that violence is not only a prerequisite but a virtual demand. When it does transpire, the action is beautifully cathartic as the fluid animation and camera movement weaves amongst the kicks and punches as they impact the transgressors, as much a commentary on audience desire as it is on bullying. King of Pigs is a success largely due to such well-structured sequences and the shockingly compelling narrative as it jumps between Jong-seok and Kyeong-min’s childhood years and their adult lives. While the former certainly takes precedence the consequences are conveyed in the present, adding layers of depth as the protagonists’ formative years unfold. Indeed, it is remarkable just how many social discourses are contained within the film. While bullying is rife within all cultures, the tactics employed within this particular school are not only predicated on physicality but also in wealth, age, gender, social relationships and parental influence making King of Pigs a distinctly Korean affair as the hierarchy self-perpetuates due to its Confucian heritage. As Jong-seok, Kyeong-min and Chul have precious little of the necessary attributes they are cast to the lowest ranks of the school pecking order, and the resentment that evolves and festers is startling to behold. Yet the narrative is also concerned with the private lives of the three friends, which allows the conveyance of such concepts on a societal scale as they witness misogyny, crime and corruption as the people around them seek power only to abuse it. As frustration and resentment engulf the trio, they wish desperately to alter their role as merely a ‘pig’ in the hierarchy yet are tragically aware that such a role defines them for life.

The continuous bullying forces Chul (left) to take a stand against the aggressors

The continuous bullying forces Chul (left) to take a stand against the aggressors

However, while the narrative of King of Pigs is strong and highly symbolic, it is not without problems. While it feels an unfair point to criticize, the limited budget does occasionally appear through the animation as characters move robotically  in certain scenes, particularly in sequences where a large number of people enter the frame. This is in stark contrast to the fluidity of action scenes and the difference is quite jarring and somewhat distracting.

The vocal talents of the cast are generally very competent and sincere, particularly by the actors voicing the protagonists as children. Kim Hye-na stands out in this regard as poverty-stricken delinquent Kim Cheol, who performs the array of poignant moments and aggressive events well. As adults the vocal talents have less significant screen time, yet Breathless director Yang Ik-joon conveys the tragic frustrations of Jong-seok especially well. There are moments however when the acting becomes over-zealous, notably with Oh Jeong-se as Kyeong-min who is at times is rather hysterical. Luckily the supporting cast and the strength of the narrative make sure that such moments are short-lived, as the film deftly focuses on the characterization of all the protagonists in both time periods.

The cruelty and injustice of life becomes too much to endure for the friends

The cruelty and injustice of life becomes too much to endure for the friends

Verdict:

King of Pigs is a bold, unflinching animation that portrays an incredible examination of a variety of social discourses in Korean culture. Writer/director Yeon Sang-ho has crafted a well-structured and gripping narrative with incredible depth, where the stylized violence is not only naturalized but, through the build of tension, desired. While budget limitations and over-zealous acting occasionally appear, King of Pigs is a riveting film not only in terms of the animation genre but, due to the uncompromising concept of ‘Han’ throughout, a compelling entry into Korean cinema.

★★★★☆

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