Showing posts with label Chun Woo-hee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chun Woo-hee. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 31, 2016

The Wailing: Na Hong-jin Gets Demonic

Let’s be frank, we all had a lot more confidence in the Catholic Church’s double-secret exorcism department under the old school Benedict than the “I’m Okay, You’re Okay” Francis, but if you live in a tony Georgetown townhouse, the Church is still your best bet. However, in rural Korea, a cop with possessed daughter can opt for a shaman’s services instead. Unfortunately, the hotshot shaman is about to encounter an evil entity more powerful than any he previously vanquished. The battle between light and dark will be joined in Na Hong-jin’s The Wailing (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Ordinarily, Gokseoung is a peaceful beat for officer Jong-goo, but a rash of family members inexplicably killing family members has profoundly disturbed the small mountain community. Jong-goo’s constant nightmares also clearly seem to be a portent of something evil. Most of Gokseoung and some of his colleagues blame the apparent outbreak of insanity on the arrival of a mysterious Japanese drifter (and rumored sorcerer) living in a creepy cabin in the woods. Therefore, when his young daughter Hyo-jin starts exhibiting behavioral changes similar to Jong-goo’s recent suspects, he agrees to hire the hotshot shaman recommended to his mother-in-law.

Il-Gwang certainly has no lack of self-confidence, but the malevolent power radiating from the evil Japanese mystery man is of a much higher magnitude than he has ever faced. Despite the well-placed alarm of Yang Yi-sam, the deacon cousin of Jong-goo’s police mate, the local Catholic Church remains skeptical on the sidelines. However, the mysterious Moo-myeung, a literal woman in white, very much in the tradition of Wilkie Collins and Japanese yĆ«rei, becomes the wild card in the uncanny struggle.

Na established an international reputation for gritty, pedal-to-the-metal action in The Chaser and The Yellow Sea. Six years later, he proves he can do eerie atmosphere and mounting dread as good or better than anyone. On the other hand, consistent narrative logic is clearly not a priority. There is a huge twist that just make no sense whatsoever, considering what came before. You will know it when you see it. You can roll with it and retcon the revelation in your head as best you can or obsess over it and miss out on the soul-searing angst that comes with it (and wouldn’t it be a shame to miss out on fun like that?).

Regardless, anyone who has seen a fair sampling of Korean films knows Na is in business when they see Hwang Jung-min swagger on screen as Il-Gwang. Hwang has played his share of nice guys in films like The Himalayas, but this is the shark-like Hwang that electrifies The Wailing, just like he did in New World and The Veteran. It is a deliciously multifaceted performance, in ways that only become clear down the stretch.

Kwak Do-won, who has done some excellent big screen villainy in A Company Man and Tazza: the Hidden Card, effectively plays against type as the schlubby, out of his depth Jong-goo. Chun Woo-hee keeps us intrigued and off-balance as Moo-myeung, while young Kim Hwan-hee is terrific as the young possessed girl. However, nobody gets the better of Japanese character actor Jun Kunimura, who gives the film a feral, pagan edge that defies comparison.

Most horror films reflect the dark corners of the collective cultural psyche that produced them, but The Wailing is in a class by itself. It is so riddled with contradictory attitudes towards Shamanism, animism, and Catholicism, as well as old school anti-Japanese prejudices, the film practically represents national primal scream therapy. Fans already knew Na was a talented filmmaker, but they will still be surprised how deeply he gets under their skin. Highly recommended with all its inconsistent hobgoblins, The Wailing opens this Friday (6/3) in New York, at the IFC Center.

Sunday, June 29, 2014

NYAFF ’14: Han Gong-ju

If ever there was a film one would not want to be based on a true story, it would Lee Su-jin’s emotionally bracing feature debut. Yet, even if viewers do not know it is inspired by a notorious 2004 case viewers will immediately sense there is something terribly real behind it. Sadly, the crime is only the start of a process of victimization in Lee’s Han Gong-ju (trailer here), which screens tomorrow during the 2014 New York Asian Film Festival.

Han Gong-ju is smart and musically talented. She is the sort of student any school should be delighted to have, but her principal is pulling strings to transfer her out. She is effectively being expelled despite, as she rightly insists, having done nothing wrong. A former teacher accompanies her to Incheon, arranging for her to live temporarily with his mother. He keeps everyone in the dark regarding her recent past and Han is not about to talk about it.

Slowly, Han recommences with life, but she fiercely guards her privacy. Occasionally, she hears from her alcoholic single father, but his calls usually portend trouble. Nevertheless, she slowly develops a friendship with a classmate, Eun-hee, who is in awe of her singer-songwriter talents. Unfortunately, as Lee slowly reveals the ugly details of the initial crime (which is never very difficult to deduce), ominous signs suggest the dark past will intrude on the imperfect present.

Without question, the film serves as a blistering indictment of Korea’s less than progressive attitudes towards victims of sex crimes and the decidedly unjust legal mechanisms that allow the wealthy to literally buy their way out of convictions. However, it never feels like an issue paper or a Lifetime original movie, largely due to Chun Woo-hee’s subtle yet agonizingly devastating lead performance. Ironically, she is a twenty-something established movie star, playing a teenager (but Michael J. Fox did the same thing for nearly a decade as Alex Keaton and Marty McFly). Regardless, it is a harrowing portrayal of resiliency under extreme emotional distress.

Chun dominates and defines Han Gong-ju, but she has some nice support from Lee Young-ran as her host, Ms. Lee. It is a tricky role that suggests some parallels with Han, while emphasizing the extent of deep-seated societal prejudices. Jung In-sun’s relentlessly upbeat Eun-hee also has some effective moments serving a somewhat similar function for Han’s teenage generation. The rest of the ensemble is stuck with mostly anonymous and usually decidedly sinister character-types, but their screen time is limited and the audience will not really want to meet them anyway.

Han Gong-ju is a challenging film from start to finish, especially including a massively ambiguous ending that lets nobody off the hook. This is not popcorn entertainment, but Chun’s work is powerful stuff that puts recent tear-jerking YA novel adaptations to shame for their naked manipulation. In contrast, the honesty Lee and Chun bring to bear stings. Recommended for those who appreciate intimately personal dramas with a wider social significance, Han Gong-ju screens tomorrow (6/30) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of this year’s NYAFF, in advance of a week long run at MoMA starting the following day.