The Hidden Face: The Korean Remake

Andres Baiz’s Spanish film, The Hidden Face, is starting to generate as many international remakes as Oirol Paulo’s The Invisible Guest. At least many of the subsequent Hidden Faces have tried to put their own spin on the dark psychological themes. That is particularly true of the new Korean remake. The love triangle relationship-dynamics get especially torturous in Kim Dae-woo’s The Hidden Face, which releases this Tuesday on digital.

Seong-jin might direct the orchestra, but his fiancée, cellist Soo-yeon, calls the shots, along with her mother, the executive director, Hye-yeon. Everyday brings new emasculations, until Soo-yeon impulsively flies off to Europe. At least that is what she told him in the video she left behind.

Weirdly, there has been no sign of her since then—no calls, no credit card usage. Despite her imperiousness, Hye-yeon starts to worry. Nevertheless, she agrees Seong-jin should find a temp replacement for her. Conveniently, Soo-yeon also left behind a recommendation for Mi-joo. Years ago, they both studied cello together in the very same house Soo-yeon just bought, to live with Seong-jin. At the time, Mi-joo and her were quite close.

It turns out she and Seong-jin are also quite compatible. They both share a fondness for the melancholy of Schubert (much like Martin Landau in Crimes and Misdemeanors). Pretty soon, Seong-jin commences something like an affair with Mi-joo, even though he still presumes Soo-yeon abandoned him. Instead, Mi-joo locked her in the secret bunker behind the walls, where she can see everything through the one-way mirrors, but she cannot be heard through the thick glass and steel.

The game-playing in this Hidden Face is even more morally bent than it sounds. Frankly, it is a sign of progress that the film has not provoked boycott-fury from the various professionally outraged alphabet groups for the way it depicts certain sexual identities. Happily, we can all just relax and enjoy its perverse, twisted soul. This is indeed a twisty and twisted film, but it will definitely surprise viewers, perhaps even those who have seen the previous Hidden Faces.

Cho Yeo-jeong and Park Ji-hyun are both incredibly fierce, but in vastly different hot-and-cold kind of ways, as Soo-yeon and Mi-joo. It is unusually to see to so distinctly different femme fatales in the same film, but they are what makes Kim’s Hidden Face crackle with tension. Poor Song Seung-Heon hardly stands a chance of standing out from their shadows as drippy Seong-jin. However, Park Ji-young steals almost every scene as Soo-yeon’s flamboyantly catty mother.

Without a doubt, screenwriters Roh Deuk and Hong Eun-mi serve up a dark and sometimes disturbing vision of human nature—but who would ask for anything less from a Korean thriller? Frankly, it might be time to stop remaking Hidden Face, because it will be hard to outdo the depths of darkness in Kim’s take. Highly recommended for fans of devilishly warped psychological thrillers, Hidden Face releases this Tuesday (9/16) on digital VOD.