ScreenFish

where faith and film are intertwined

Korea

Hunt: Spies Divided

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Hunt is the directorial debut of actor Lee Jung-jae, the star of Netflix’s #1 show Squid Game. The film sees Lee take a stab at being a jack of all trades as the star, director, writer, and producer of this spy-action-thriller. Set in early 1980s Korea, the film reveals a country that is locked into conflict on all sides. The presidential government is trying to repress the student protesters and people’s groups trying take it down from within its own borders while also dealing with impending threats of assassination and attack North Korean forces across the border. The people under the most pressure in the constantly lapsing conflict? The KCIA who employ of our two main characters Park Pyung-ho (Lee Jung-jae) Kim Jung-do (Jung Woo-sung). The opening scene introduces us to them as the KCIA foils shooters attempting an assassination of the Korean president on American soil. This is where we see the KCIA also has conflict in its ranks as the operation to take out the shooters reveals the starting tensions between the KCIA’s foreign and domestic units which are led by our two leads Pyung-ho and Jung-do. As the films goes on, Pyung-ho and Jung-do keep folding each other into a labyrinth of mistrust. A mistrust planted from the looming threat of a North Korean mole in their ranks. A mole who the director of the KCIA sees fit that the foreign and domestic units find by interrogating their peers, leading to an inevitable vendetta.

Hunt isn’t satisfied in simply pitting two colleagues against one another as Lee along with his co-writer Jo Seung-hee elevate the action-thriller by layering the secrets and lies. This allows Lee to explore multiple facets of the complicated South Korean government and its internal conflict. A division that may have presented the North’s chance to take more power over the weakened southern democracy. Lee is one of many Korean directors who’ve taken the conflicts of Korean past and coated it in genre to entertain audience while educating them about Korean conflict. In this case, he uses the twists and turns of a mystery spy thriller to keep the audience confused and guessing about where the films going by disguising his characters motivations to orchestrate how convoluted a domestic espionage situation like this really becomes. To add an emotional layer to his leads he weaves more characters and background information into the spy story and tries to reveal the moral complications of domestic security. Pyung-ho took on the responsibility to take care of the daughter of his late KCIA partner, a responsibility that becomes evermore complicated with her involvement in student protests the government he works for and mysterious past. Jung-do made connections in the military with characters who are revealed to be involved in the expanding the web of deceit Lee weaves in his ambitious screenplay.

Lee has clearly studied his filmmaking influences well. He can bring inspiration to the standard professional action flick with the help of his veteran Korean craftsmen. His use of long takes and swinging camera movement becomes invocative of Children of Men, a film Lee surely studied before heading to production on his filmmaking debut. The film’s editing done by Korean veteran Kim Sang-bum whose edited notable films from Park Chan-wook like Oldboy and The Handmaiden is purposefully crafted to the story and action. At 131 minutes though, the film can only create so much feeling out of its thrilling actions sequences and the story isn’t enough to carry the emotional weight Lee seems to be going for. He shows he can bring inspiration to his material an get the best out of his actors including himself. The first scene alone showcases the direction and action at its heights with well coordinated gun play, editing and intense emotions from Lee and Jung create an effective hook. But with how much maneuvering and set up the story does with its ensemble of characters it can be hard to follow the emotional throughline especially when we’re following two leads. There is an intelligent attempt to set up Pyung-ho’s emotional world with the inclusion of a sudo daughter character who is slotted into the story well but the connection between these two isn’t given enough screentime because of the impending need to inform the audience about the evolving spy plot. Lee shows he has room to grow as a director as some of the choices will come off as unfitting at some points in the film. Some of the visual effects are very transparent and the use of music in some parts seems to not fit the tone of the scene.

Hunt knows its strengths lie in the intrigue of political espionage and the violence that erupts because of it. However, in the maze of guns and deception, the hearts of the characters are lost. For the most part, this isn’t a big deal but Lee commits a fair amount of runtime to try to get us to feel something. This film doesn’t commit to the simplicity action films like The Raid: Redemption havetaken where they don’t even try to characterize the people in their dangerous scenario, nor does it use the emotions to motivate its action like in this year’s Top Gun Maverick. The result is a film that tries to balance both and doesn’t really succeed. Lee admirably takes time to focus in on how the struggle to find the truth takes a heavy toll on the emotional core of its leading men but ends up loosing it in the process. In other words, Hunt needed less lies and more love but I appreciate that Lee tried to include both in the first place.

Hunt is now playing in theatres.

Emergency Declaration – Fear of flying

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I can understand the fear of flying. An airplane is cramped, filled with strangers, under the control of someone you don’t know, and if something goes wrong there are very few good outcomes. In a world with pandemics all of this takes on new levels of worry. All of that (and more) comes into play in Han Jae-rim’s tense airplane thriller, Emergency Declaration. You’ll want to keep your seatbelt fastened, because there will be turbulence.

I don’t want to put many spoilers here, because like the plane flight, this film is filled with ups and downs, and twists and turns. But here are some of the elements that Han mixes together: a social media video with someone threating to do something on a flight, a police officer whose wife is flying to Hawaii, someone getting sick and dying suddenly on the flight, a former pilot (with a history of catastrophe) on the plane with his young daughter, more sickness on the plane, on the ground officials in Korea and elsewhere trying to deal with what’s happening in the air over the Pacific.

The film moves back and forth between the interior of the plane and the dynamics of impending tragedy among the passengers and crew, and those on the ground who are trying to track down the cause and possible solution. As time goes on there seem to be fewer and fewer good possible outcomes. In time, officials in many countries—as well as the passengers on the plane—must make some very difficult moral decisions.

Although Han wrote and was preparing to film prior to the arrival of COVID-19, Emergency Declaration certainly speaks to what the world has gone through the last few year. Not just because it involves a mysterious illness that rapidly spread through the plane, but because of the fear, panic, and ethical dilemmas that evolve throughout the story. We see the way information and misinformation quickly spread and change the narrative of what is happening.

The events on the plane provide the adrenaline for viewers. We can understand all the emotions that the passengers and crew are having to deal with—which increase as the flight wears on and the sense of doom builds.

For me, the events on the ground are more interesting, because although emotions are high here as well, the real challenges on the ground are ethical and political. Questions arise as to whether or not the passengers can be saved—or should be saved. There are questions of who or what must be sacrificed. How do we make such decisions? Must everyone be saved? Is there a greater good that should take precedence? And of course, the clock is ticking because the plane has only so much fuel.

This is a film that we can watch just for the thrill it brings, but it will probably also lead us to reflect on just how much the world resembles what we see on the screen. And we can consider our own responses as passengers on this flight—and also as those looking up from the ground and trying to figure out what to do.

Emergency Declaration is in select theaters.

Photos courtesy of Well Go USA Entertainment.

Slamdance 2022 – First roundup

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Welcome to Slamdance Film Festival.

Slamdance is a festival that bills itself as “by filmmakers, for filmmakers”. It focuses on emerging talent. The festival was started in 1995 by a group of filmmakers whose films weren’t accepted into the Sundance Film Festival. I usually think of Slamdance as Sundance’s pesky younger sibling—perhaps not as accomplished, but working hard to prove they’re worthy of attention. This year’s festival is all virtual running from January 27 to February 6. It is a true bargain at $10 for a festival pass that allows you to watch as many features, docs, and shorts as you can fit in. Here’s some that I’ve seen so far.

Hannah Ha Ha, from directors Jordan Tetewsky and Joshua Pikovsky, takes us into the life of a young woman who is coasting along in life. She lives in a small town with her aging father. She does a little dog walking, teaches guitar, volunteers at a community farm. When her older brother comes for a visit, he begins to push her to get a real job. Her brother’s perspective is “Most people your age are making strides in their careers”. But another friend asks, “What do you need a real job for?” Her brother thinks she is wasting time. But is getting a fast food job just a bigger waste of time? This is an examination of ennui. Hannah has no real impetus to change, or to find meaning in her life as it is. Hannah Ha Ha is playing in the Narrative Feature section.

Is there a way to prove the existence (or non-existence) of God? In Manuel Arija’s Untrainocencia, a bizarre pair are locked into an isolation capsule as part of an experiment by a strange religious organization to try to find the answer. Orión and Adán are not anything like we’d expect. One is described as “with faith, but without hope”; the other is “with hope, but without faith”. Day by day, they enact strange rituals seeking to reach the divine. There is a ridiculousness about their efforts that is entertaining—at least for a while. It may also lead us to question our own liturgical rituals and if they are in some way as outlandish as what we are watching. When Orión discovers Adán’s secret, things begin to fall apart. Or maybe they were doomed from the start. The concept of the film appealed to me, but it never quite got beyond the visual humor to tap into more interesting aspects of the question. Ultrainocencia is also part of the Narrative Feature section.

In Goodafternoon Sweetdream, directed by Bang Seung Hyeon, we see a series of  “dreams” that are made up of conversations between Ye Won, whose father has recently died, and her friends. We aren’t sure if they are actual dreams or if they just represent an aspect of her grief. Each section is a single static camera shot. It is very talky and low key. There is no real through narrative. As such, the film really doesn’t seem to go much of anywhere. Goodafternoon Sweetdream is part of the Narrative Feature section.

A film from the Breakout section, Killing the Eunuch Khan, directed by Abed Abest, was described as “A serial killer uses his victims to kill more victims.” I wouldn’t describe it that way. But it is the most visually interesting film from my Slamdance sampling so far. There are deaths, to be sure, but it is not so much about plot as it is about the interesting shots that have been designed for the film, including a trickle of blood that eventually becomes a torrential river. There is very little dialogue throughout the film. We just watch it play out, fascinated by what we see.

Justin Zuckerman’s Yelling Fire in an Empty Theater follows a young woman who has just moved from Florida to New York City. In the opening scene, set in an airport, she’s told, “I don’t know what you think New York is going to be like, but I have to tell you, it won’t be.” Moving to New York is often an exciting time for young people, but as we meet her roommate in her toxic relationship, and as Lisa really doesn’t seem to be growing, we see that such a move may not be for everyone. Perhaps the theme is best expressed as “New York may be strange, but it is not boring—maybe.” Yelling Fire in an Empty Theater is part of the Narrative Feature section.

House of Hummingbird – The Trials of 8th Grade

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“It takes some time to learn to like yourself.”

Bora Kim’s semi-autobiographical coming-of-age drama House of Hummingbird takes us inside the struggle of a middle school girl as she keeps looking for something in her life that will bring emotional nurture and fulfilment.

Eighth grader Eun-hee (Ji-hu Park) is seen by many of her classmates as a bit slow and doomed to a life serving them. What joy she finds is in drawing comics. Her older brother is abusive. Her older sister a bad role model. Her mother struggles with chronic pain. Her father is demanding. There is little nurture to be found at home. Even when Eun-hee finds a lump under her ear, she must deal with the doctors herself. She makes an occasional friend, both male and female, and even has some tentative romantic experiences. But her friends seem to go off with others, leaving her alone.

Her life brightens when she meets Yong-ji (Sae-Byeok Kim), her new Chinese tutor. Yong-ji is young and pretty. And she smokes! But what really makes Yong-ji special is that she notices Eun-hee. She is willing to talk with her and listen to her. She treats her as a real person. These interactions give Eun-hee a glimpse of what she may become. Yong-ji gives Eun-hee bits of insight that could help her as she struggles to find her place in life.

The film is set in 1994, and from time to time key news stories mark the passing of time. First the beginning of the World Cup, then the death of North Korean leader Kim Il-Sung, and eventually the catastrophic collapse of the Seongsu Bridge that left 32 people dead—and is a pivotal point in the film. There is a sense that Korea as a whole is going through transitions, just as Eun-hee is facing constant change in her life.

Eun-hee is at an interesting coming-of-age point. There is something about the uncertainty and insecurities of eighth grade that makes it especially conducive to such examinations. One might compare the 2018 American film Eighth Grade. Although the American film was told with much more comedy, both films reflect the difficulty of that age. Eun-hee captures a bit of that difficulty when she ponders “When will my life start to shine?”

Such feelings are not limited to fourteen year-olds. Coming-of-age films, such as House of Hummingbird, aren’t just about looking at how difficult growing up can be; they offer us a chance to reflect on our own issues of facing a world that is filled with abuse, abandonment, and grief. Perhaps the key to happiness is, as with hummingbirds, constantly searching for the sweetness that may come our way.

House of Hummingbird is available on Virtual Cinema through local theaters.

Photos courtesy of Well Go USA

Parasite: Class Struggle

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The intersection of the haves and have-nots is the world of Parasite, for which director Bong Joon-ho won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival this year. Set in South Korea, where I’m told the difference of economic divisions is very real, the story also taps into a more universal understanding of the disdain and resentments inherent in class structure.

The film is the story of two families, the Kims and the Parks. The Kim family is from the lowest part of society, as we see in their living in a basement apartment where they have to crawl up next to their toilet to get a phone signal. They get by doing piece work such as folding pizza boxes for a few cents each. When college age son Ki-woo is recommended by a friend to take over the job as English tutor for the Parks’ daughter, he is astounded by the opulence of their home high on a hill. Quickly, he begins a series of cons that bring other family members into the Parks’ employ (although their relationship is secret). This involves lies about others that are working for the family to make way for new hiring.

There is a comic feel to the first half of the film as the Kims worm their way into the Parks’ lives. In a similar fashion as Shoplifters (which won the Palme d’Or last year), this family of grifters is somewhat endearing, even though we may be put off by their lack of morals.

The Parks, on the other hand, are a bit cold. They clearly care about their children, but don’t want to be bothered with the actual raising of them. For all their affluence, they lack any kind of human affection. They are a bit suspicious of some of the Kims because they don’t smell right. They smell of the underclass, which the Parks want nothing to do with.

The second half of the film slowly turns more toward tragedy when the Parks leave on a trip and the Kims inhabit the house. Soon they discover some secrets about the house, and the former servants that begins to lead this story to a violent confrontation that Quentin Tarantino would probably enjoy.

The dichotomy of the two families gives us a chance to consider the role class plays in life. To be sure the differences vary from one society to another, but they still exist everywhere. Is it an inevitability that such divisions will lead to some sort of violent confrontation? Even though in the film the violence arises out of a kind of comedy of errors, it still seems to be the only way that the class struggle will finally be addressed. The title of the film suggests that the class struggle is about those who live off others. But which class is living off which?

It is interesting that Bong brings the audience (who are probably more closely related to the Parks) into the film on the side of the Kims. It is the Kims with whom we emotionally identify. It is a trick that film uses to help us see the plight of others, but it also serves to suggest that perhaps we should be judged for the same shortcomings we see in the Park family. As with all good films, we discover that it is not a story about other people; it is about us.

Parasite is available on Blu-ray and digital now.

Photos courtesy Neon CJ Entertainment

Rampant: Land of the Living Dead

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Directed by Kim Sung-Hoon, Rampant is an unexpectedly fascinating mashup of genres as classical Asian cinema meets horror film. After all, a period piece about a Korean prince who returns home amidst political turmoil hardly screams zombie apocalypse. Somewhat surprisingly, however, Rampant proves itself to be a fun and engaging film that breathes fresh life into the genre.

Set in ancient South Korea, Rampant tells the story of Prince Ganglim (Hyun Bin), the heir to the throne of the Joseon region. Returning home as a result of his brother’s death, Ganglim soon discovers that a darkness looms over his home province as murderous creatures known as Night Demons have overrun the country. With the nightmarish monsters plaguing the country and the minister of military Kim Ja-joon (Jang Dong-gun) plotting to overthrow the dynasty, Prince Ganglim realizes that he must fight in order to save his home country.

While the film contains plenty of the gore and violence that one would expect from the zombie genre, the heart of the film lies in the journey of Prince Ganglim and his relationship with the throne. Returning home due to the death of his brother, Ganglim has no interest in taking the seat of power from his father when the time comes. A womanizer with a proficiency to curse, Ganglim hardly lives his life in a manner that reveals the image of a King (nor is he interested in doing so). Though respectful of the culture of the time, he strangely seems like a man out of time, more interested in his own freedom than continuing the family legacy of leadership. To Ganglim, leadership represents power, control and maintaining the status quo – three words that he finds utterly repulsive. The Joseon region is in dire need of change, though he does not believe he is the one to bring it to fruition given his values and interests.

With this in mind, Ganglim’s journey speaks to his understanding of the nature of leadership. Though he views the throne through the eyes of power, the people of the Joseon region view it as a position of servanthood. (“Without the people, there is no king,” Ganglim is reminded.) As Ganglim begins to realize that the nature of leadership stems from one’s desire to seek the best for those under their care, he also begins to recognize that genuine change may be possible. (Incidentally, Ganglim’s views are diametrically opposed to the Minister of War Kim, Ja-joon. Although he also believes a new world must be created, his tactics reveal his belief that change comes not from altering the systems of power but simply placing himself in the role instead.) Here, Ganglim must realize that true leadership comes when royalty humble themselves and take the very nature of a servant. As he does, he opens his heart to become more than the selfish regime that came before.In the end, Rampant serves its audience well. By balancing the gore and intensity of the zombie genre with the classical battle for power of other Asian period pieces, the film creates space for something new while honouring tradition. Still, the true heart of the film lies in one hero’s journey to rebirth as a true leader.

Rampant is available on demand on February 26th, 2019

 

Sunday at AFI Fest

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When I arrived at Hollywood and Highland on Sunday morning, there were some people on the street organizing a march about sexual assault and harassment in the entertainment industry. News in recent weeks has been full of stories about the issue and social media filled up with “me too” comments. It is indeed a serious subject that needs to be addressed. I hope bringing this out into the open will facilitate healing and changes in a culture that allows such behavior.

One of the films that I’ve been looking forward to at AFI Fest was M*A*S*H, part of the Robert Altman retrospective at the festival. I first saw the film when it was released in 1970 while I was in college. Most people are familiar with the TV series, but the film is a darker comedy than the TV series was. Set in the Korean War, the film is really a commentary on the Vietnam War that was underway when the film came out. The film is satire that has an irreverent take on all institutions, especially the military and religion. The wonderful ensemble cast included Donald Sutherland, Tom Skerritt, Elliott Gould, Rene Auberjonois, Sally Kellerman, Robert Duvall, and Gary Burghoff (the only actor to also be in the TV series). Of note, given the protests going on outside, is the objectification of women in the film. That, too, was a part of the zeitgeist. In some ways we may have grown past that, but in other ways, it is still a work in progress. I may have to put together a TBT review of this to consider how it plays today versus when it came out.

Since I was already in Korea for that film, I stayed for Park Hoon-Jung’s V.I.P. (Midnight section). This is a very dark and often disturbing film about a serial killer who has murdered young women in both North and South Korea and in Hong Kong. The killer is the scion of a North Korean official and may have information about hidden bank accounts. A no-holds barred police detective, a by-the-book Korean federal agent, a North Korean defector, and the CIA battle amongst themselves over how to treat the case. When the programmer introduced the film, she said “It really resonated with me, because I want to kill people every day.” That reflects the corrosive effect of anger and hatred on all of those involved in the story.

Fits & Starts (American Independent) is the feature directing debut for Lara Terruso. The comedy focuses on two married writers. David is struggling with his career, but his wife Jennifer’s career is skyrocketing. When Jennifer’s publisher invites them to a salon at his home, their journey turns very strange. They eventually become separated en route, with David making it to the party looking for his wife, while she is stranded some ways behind. They discover things about themselves, but more importantly about their relationship that will allow them to grow closer than they have been of late.

 

The Handmaiden – A Delightfully Twisted Tale

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 The Handmaiden takes us on a twisting road of deceptions, double- (even triple-) crosses in a crime drama that straddles worlds. Inspired by a novel set in Victorian England, the story has been transferred to the colonial period in Korea, a time that is tied to the traditions of the past and the emergence of modernity. The house in which most of the story takes place is a blend of both Japanese and English styles. The characters come from the aristocratic world and the world of the streets. The film uses both Japanese and Korean (with different colored subtitles so we know which language is being spoken).

Sookie (Kim Tae-ri) is a young woman chosen to be the new handmaiden for Lady Hideko (Kim Min-hee), a beautiful young heiress who has lived most of her life in Korea as the ward of her uncle, Master Kouzuki (Cho Jin-woong). When Sookie arrives she is in awe of the opulence of the home. But things are not as they seem. There are limits to where Sookie is allowed to go. The basement is especially off limits. There is a kind of dark feeling to this house despite the richness of the surroundings.

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The twists begin when we learn that Sookie is not really a servant, but a thief who has been recruited by The Count (Ha Jung-woo), a slick conman posing as nobility, to befriend Lady Kideko and help The Count woo her. The plan is for The Count and Lady Kideko to elope, claim Lady Kideko’s wealth in Japan, then have her committed and steal her money. But as the story unfolds there are far more twists, with secrets coming to light all along the way—including a love story. The less said about the surprises, the better. After all, that’s what makes this kind of movie so enjoyable—the way we keep feeling off-balance until the end.

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As with most crime films, The Handmaiden touches lightly on some of the darker side of life: crime, physical and emotional abuse, soft porn and the lasciviousness that feeds on it. But it does so in a way that avoids explicit portrayals. This is a story that spends a lot of time on the sinful nature of people, yet there is a small bit of the virtuousness of love that offers redemption from the depravity. That too is a way the film tries to balance very different worlds that clash in the story—by providing the chance for love to defeat all the plots of those who seek to do harm.

Photos courtesy of Amazon Studios/Magnolia Pictures