WHAT WE CAN LEARN FROM PARK CHAN-WOOK AND THE ULTIMATE QUESTION OF LIFE, THE UNIVERSE, AND EVERYTHING

There's been some really amazing material coming out of Korea in the last ten years. Bong Joon-ho has created fantastic and engaging mysteries with his wonderful MOTHER and one of the best crime dramas (and, hell, period pieces) I've ever seen in MEMORIES OF MURDER. Kim Jee-woon has left his mark in certain genres (his take on revenge films are at once cringe inducing and hilarious in I SAW THE DEVIL). Even with only two films under Na Hong-jin's belt (both thrillers, the so-gripping-it's-scary THE CHASER and the good, but uneven--at least in the American edit--THE YELLOW SEA), he’s made sure that he's someone to look out for.

The look of a devious mastermind

But, still, there is one Korean director that is without question the best, and that's Park Chan-wook. He is the only Korean director that has a voice that's loud enough to yell auteur. And, okay, sure. Even though I'm only able to see relatively little Korean films, I still feel comfortable saying that. His extremely dark comedy, his intimate relationship with blood, odd transitions, outrageously original characters, his fascination with colors, and his surrealistic imagery are hard not to notice from film to film. We've coined the phrase Kubrickian and Malickian, and now I believe we should make a new one: Wookian (and it's just as fun to say it as the other two).

Funny, dream-like gore aside, there's something more important that’s on Chan-wook’s mind throughout his filmography: the ultimate question. What's our purpose? What are we here for? What are we meant to do and be? What the hell's the whole point, anyway? These questions are prevalent in all his filmography, but my focus will be on the first film of the Vengeance Trilogy, SYMPATHY FOR MR. VENGEANCE, and his 2006 film, I'M A CYBORG, BUT THAT'S OK. Just like the super computer Deep Thought, Wook does have an answer to the ultimate question for us. Interestingly, though, it's not 42, but it might as well be.

In SYMPATHY FOR MR. VENGEANCE, Ryu, a deaf, dumb, and poor man, has a sister who has become critically ill to the point of needing another kidney. Being a good brother, he takes a job at a factory working double shifts to afford the procedure, all while his sister, who is now just a name on a waiting list, is thriving on the floor in pain. For the time being they'll just have to wait and hope. What else can they do? This won't pass for Ryu, though, as impatience breeds fear, and he plans to get shit done. So, with the help of his girlfriend Cha, a protesting anarchist, they kidnap the five-or-so-year-old daughter of one of the major executives at the factory for ransom.

It's understandable what Ryu is going through. We all have someone in our lives that we would absolutely do anything for. So we sympathize. But there's a problem. Ryu has made it so that his sister's well-being is his sole purpose for living. His sister is his whole life. Saving his sister is what he's meant for.

Ryu's purpose is obviously artificial, but he goes on believing even though all the signs are telling him that everything he does is pointless. Bad things get worse and when things go wrong, they go wrong. He pays 10,000,000 won and his own kidney to some seedy black marketers in exchange for a kidney for his sister, but they trick him. They steal his kidney, his money, and even his clothes. When he returns home, the doctor's have good news! They've found a donor for his sister! And how quick! That will just be 10,000,000 won, please. More pointlessness: Even though his intentions were pure, and he never meant to harm the girl he kidnapped, his deafness (something he can't even help) is the thing that perpetuates her drowning. But most of all, the thing that truly defines Ryu's actions as pointless, is his sister's suicide. Everything he's done to protect his sister is ultimately, tragically without point.

Ryu's sister's suicide is the most important part of the film. We see a man who has created his own purpose have that purpose stripped away from him. "My life has no meaning," Ryu signs. So what now? What do you do when you have no purpose anymore? How do you respond?

Muuurrrrrderrrrr

Anarchy. Complete and total anarchy. Ryu takes the "kill all those responsible" approach, a sentiment that the kidnapped girl's father, Park, has also adopted. In fact, Park is consumed with revenge so much that he quits his job and sells his house for full-time revenging. But in the meantime, all the film shows are acts of destruction and terrorism. There's blood. There's piss. There's shit. The human body is torn down and we see all that we really are. Just meat and bone put in motion. We are nothing special. There is no real purpose to our lives. We have no meaning. Anarchy literally has the final say in this revenge plot because that's what life is to Park Chan-wook.

You see the same thing, in the rest of the Vengeance Trilogy with less than stellar results. In OLDBOY: Oh Dae-su believes his purpose is to find the truth of his imprisonment, and Lee Woo-jin's only purpose is to enact revenge on Oh Dae-su. In the end, when Woo-jin gets his revenge, he says, "Now what will I live for?" and shoots himself in the head, and Dae-su is left frantically trying to erase his memory. In LADY VENGEANCE: Lee Geum-ja performs a plan thirteen years in the making to atone for her sins. When she completes the plan, the man who "made [her] a sinner" finally dead and buried, she still feels empty and unsatisfied, the last shot being her crying into a white cake. All of these characters are hit in the face (or more, stabbed in the face—Korean directors love their knives) with the pointlessness of their actions, and it always ends in a death of some fashion.

Sure, it's easy to see Park Chan-wook's world-view as unnecessarily pessimistic...but you’re just looking at it the wrong way. In comes I'M A CYBORG, BUT THAT'S OK, Chan-wook's most playful and sweet (“sweet!?”) film. 

Young-goon's battery life

Young-goon believes that she’s a cyborg and she’s put into a mental hospital after she slits her wrists and sticks electrical wires in them so she can “recharge”. She mostly spends her time refusing to eat (cyborgs can’t eat real food) and talking to the appliances around her (you know, since they understand her). While her mental state is questionable, there’s some honest existential angst going on. She sees the vending machine and understands that its purpose is to provide snacks and coffee. She sees a lamp and understands that its purpose is to provide light so she can see. But what about Young-goon? What is her purpose? Once again, Park Chan-wook is making it clear how he views human life: mechanic and purposeless.

In fact, every patient—patients that can only be described as Wookian (okay, you can actually describe them using more adjectives, but I vow to make Wookian a thing) — is like a machine. You always hear the phrase, “Oh, I’m just wired a certain way.” Same thing goes for the characters in CYBORG. There’s a man who is so humble that he walks backwards to meet anyone and apologizes for any inconvenience even if it’s not his doing. There’s a compulsive liar, a woman obsessed with the quality of her skin, and the kleptomaniac, anti-social, psychopath (in the mildest, clinical form of the word) Il-sun, who not only steals physical objects from the patients, but parts of their personality as well. These people are always going to be this way. They can’t help it. It’s just the way they’re wired. But, since all of these people were built this way, their unique characteristics must mean something, right?

Well, no. But Young-goon or Il-sun or anyone else don’t particularly see their lives as empty either. And neither does the film. In fact, CYBORG treats life as a happy, fulfilling occasion. I mean, watch this video of Il-sun yodeling and try not to smile.

There’s so much liveliness (and some weirdness odd enough even for Chan-wook’s standards) in this video that you can’t argue that the film sees life as anything other than something magical, something wonderful. So why the hell is Park Chan-wook so damn fickle about the whole thing? Why is he full of nihilistic despair at one point, and gleeful playfulness the next?

The answer is sympathy.

There are no consequences in a pointless world. There’s no reason for you to show sympathy or compassion for others, and all the reason for you to just think about yourself. You feel an emptiness that you need filled. A pain you need mended.  So what’s stopping you from murdering the person who did you wrong? What’s stopping you from kidnapping a kid? What’s stopping you from torturing others for information?

Nothing, unfortunately. But will you be fulfilled, satisfied, happy? Absolutely not. While the characters in SYMPATHY and the rest of the Vengeance Trilogy are all about tearing people down, CYBORG’s characters are all about bringing people up. Helping them out. Showing sympathy and compassion.

Remember Il-sun’s ability to steal people’s characteristics? He can also steal emotions. So when Young-goon is unable to “kill the white-uns” (don’t worry, it isn’t a race thing), she asks him to steal away her sympathy (one of the seven Cyborg Deadly Sins) and he obliges. Now the psychopath has sympathy for others, especially for Young-goon, whose health is rapidly deteriorating due to malnourishment. So Il-sun hatches a plan, getting everyone in the hospital to help out, to convince Young-goon (without undermining her mental illness, mind you) to eat just one bite of rice.

And the scene where it finally happens…is just so great and heartwarming. The joy that everyone feels at that moment is outrageously contagious and it’s the most emotionally cathartic moment in any Park Chan-wook film. And instead of the film leaving you feeling somewhat empty (try watching OLDBOY without feeling like something has been taken away from you), CYBORG leaves on a refreshingly warm note. Young-goon has forgotten her purpose and is just being. Il-sun is finally able to get past his traumas and feel alive. All the other patients are happy that they've helped a friend. It’s a moment where everyone is, in a sense, recharged.

I am in love with this poster

There’s no getting past it for Park Chan-wook. Life is a meaningless affair. But that’s okay. It’s entirely okay. You can still live a happy, fulfilling life. The key is sympathy, compassion, kindness. Where all of these are, joy and happiness will follow, and that’s all that we really need. I commend Chan-wook for advocating such positive qualities in a world where they don’t matter. In the end, that's what I admire most.

Jeff, Who Lives at Home Review

It seems harder and harder these days to find a film that is so optimistic and lacking in so much cynicism, that it when one comes along, you are able to ignore (or more, just not care about) its flaws and focus all on its merits. THE MUPPETS, also starring Jason Segal (who seems to live optimism in almost all of his roles), was one such film last year. I did feel like the film's emotional seesaw had a bully at the other end who, when you're at the peak of your jump, leaves the seesaw, making you crash down on the ground, bruising your ass. But because of its high highs, sheer joy, and good vibes, I was able to forgive the film's uneven structure. JEFF, WHO LIVES AT HOME, falls along the same lines as THE MUPPETS. While it is a flawed picture, its love for its characters and its glass half-full philosophy make it hard to condone its blunders as its optimism starts to seep into you.

JEFF, WHO LIVES AT HOME portrays a normal, dysfunctional family. Jeff, played by the always chummy Jason Segel, is a stoner (one that seems to be like an actual person and not some lazy caricature) who believes in signs: A wrong phone call can lead to hours of contemplation (What did that call mean? Should I be looking for something?) and a shared dream is more than a coincidence. He has a destiny, but he just doesn't know what it is. His brother, Pat (Ed Helms), who, complete with a sleazy goatee, is kind of a jerk. He selfishly makes decisions without thinking of the effect it might have on others and constantly belittles the people who are important to him. Their mom, Sharon (Susan Sarandon), is just doing her best with what she has and is investigating a case of a secret admirer at her cubicle job.

You don't go see a Duplass Brothers film for the filmmaking. You come for the characters and their journey. Fortunately, this is a film that loves its characters, and fortunately (almost) every one of them are extremely likable. In Jeff, Jason Segel once again creates an innocence and childlike wonder and awe that you will want to hug for hours. He is a taller Winnie the Pooh with a sweat shirt and gym shorts. Pat's douchebagery, while unpleasant at times, comes from a deeply, relatable, human place, and as we notice his internal struggles, he becomes immensely open for empathy. It's Sharon and her arc, though, that will make your heart truly swell. The way her low self-esteem is boosted into youthful curiosity and joy as she chats online with her secret admirer is absolutely contagious, and her story, while still having moments that could induce eye rolls in its almost fairy-tale like situations, works beautifully. Unfortunately, not all of the character's are likable, as Pat's wife, played by Judy Greer, is only there to move Pat's character arc forward, and doesn't come off as real and relatable as the others. For the most part, she speaks in only cliches, but maybe her blandness is a joke.

It's also hard not to be moved by what JEFF, WHO LIVES AT HOME is saying. Nothing really important seems to be happening throughout the film. The catalyst of everything that takes place is just a trip to buy wood glue for goodness sake. But once the finale comes along, you realize that everything you have seen before holds such significance that you can't help but feel like you just witnessed the creation of the universe. I've always hated the phrase "everything happens for a reason" (a mantra Jeff seems to live by) because it's too simplistic, lazy, and leads to unneeded complacency, and JEFF, WHO LIVES AT HOME may seem like it's agreeing with Jeff's philosophy, but actually it's making its own.

There doesn't need to be a reason for anything, but still, everything around you is important. Everything is filled with significance and meaning. Everything leads to everything else. You can't live without the things that make your life what it is. The greatest day in the history of the world is today because today is what the history of the world has been reaching for. Your destiny is now.

I Watched Melancholia and Now I'm Going to Write About It (And Probably Myself A Little Too Much)

I watched Lars von Trier's ANTICHRIST in 2010 and afterwards was left feeling violated, depressed, shaken, hurt, afraid--all of those icky feelings. It wasn't because of the graphic material (although, it was a rough viewing). It had more to do with my own personal chemistry.

So please forgive me if I delayed watching von Trier's new film about (again) depression until now. I was scared that it would do the same thing that ANTICHRIST did to me. I'm happy to say that my bravery (I deserve a medal) paid off. MELANCHOLIA speaks about depression in such a wonderful, beautiful, and strong way that it may make people who can't grasp what it's like to suffer it actually understand it.


MELANCHOLIA is split into two parts: Justine and Claire. Sisters. Justine is the depressed one, who's part  is probably one of more frustrating hours of film in years. It's Justine's wedding reception and she's doing her best to be happy. She smiles (a weird smile; they don't come naturally), she dances, and she kisses her husband whenever she thinks she's supposed to, but her sadness keeps seeping in and surrounding her. Soon the reception becomes a depressed person's nightmare and everyone is blaming her for her sadness. Claire gets frustrated and scolds her. Claire's husband maliciously makes her feel guilty for her sadness. Her husband tries to understand and make her feel better, but in the end, won't commit. No one really grasps what's going on with Justine, and because of that, are unable to help her.

Claire's part involves the titular planet, Melancholia, which will eventually crash into the world, but we also see how much a trooper Claire can be. We watch her as she tirelessly takes care of Justine at her lowest, bathing her, making her favorite meal, and getting her out of the house for some horseback riding. When Melancholia gets closer and closer to Earth however, there is a reversal in the sisters. Justine becomes calm while Claire starts to experience severe anxiety and sadness, clinging to her husband to reassure her that the planet is just a fly-by. She becomes the ill one who needs to be taken care of.

It's hard to describe my condition to people because I feel obligated to be specific. I don't just want to say I have depression because there are different kinds. My kind is called dysthymia and I'm not entirely sure how to  even pronounce it. Before I can describe what that is, though, I have to give context. When most people think of a depression disorder, they think of major depressive disorder (MDD). The distinctions between the two come in the form of the elapsed time and (for lack of a better word) quality (ouch) of the depression. MDD consists of severe symptoms (including low self-esteem, high self-hatred, fatigue, overeating or not eating at all, unable to take pleasure in anything, etc.) that last for about two weeks. Dysthymia's symptoms are less severe, a more low-grade MDD, but lasts for at least two years and can last for several, several more and (my favorite part) may have episodes of MDD sneak its awful head in there. 

It's incredibly difficult to articulate MDD or dysthymia or any other depression in a convincing way to anyone and have them understand what it's like to suffer through it all. I remember having a two hour long conversation with a friend who had told me that I was "just giving up on happiness" explaining to him about the dopamine and the serotonin and the reuptake inhibitors, and while, eventually, he did learn about depression in a new way, he still didn't understand it. Lars von Trier does in MELANCHOLIA what I couldn't, and uses clever techniques (showing the planets collide at the start of the film for one, and the incredible sound design for two) to bring the feelings of hopelessness and despair onto the audience, making them feel what Justine and Claire feel. This apocalyptic realm is Justine's home, and has been for quite awhile, and everyone is invited to experience it. In the end, maybe that's the only way to understand depression.

Lars von Trier has said (maybe jokingly; who knows with that guy) that this film has a happy ending. I actually agree with him. The film looks beautiful even with destruction on the horizon and the images, filled with gold and blue, give hope to a hopelessness situation. There is a positive to all of this. Through Melancholia, there is a cleansing and fearlessness emerges.

I now realize that ANTICHRIST is my Melancholia.

BIG FAN is One of the Best Movies About Unrequited Love

There are many points in BIG FAN where you take the place of Paul Aufiero's family members and ask him (not to the TV, come on), "What's wrong with you? Are you crazy? Don't you know that you're being delusional?"  Maybe Paul knows exactly what's wrong with him and how delusional he is. Maybe he doesn't. But that's not the point. The point is he doesn't really care.

It's frustrating how complacent Paul is with his life. He lives with his mom who constantly (and rightfully) scolds him for his lack of motivation, always mentioning his brother and sister who have what they need, including a spouse. He works at a parking garage being mocked by some of its leaving visitors as he listens to sports radio, and declines offers to work a better job with better pay. His rich, lawyer brother and his plastic wife hold no respect for him. But Paul has the New York Giants, and that's all right.


Actually it's the best thing ever. Paul loves the Giants. They're his whole world. He's unable to afford tickets, but he watches the games outside the stadium with a small TV hooked up to his car. He spends his work time writing scripts that he recites word for word (even the "ha ha ha!"s) to a very late night sports talk radio. He has a poster of the Giant's best player, Quantrell Bishop, above his bed so it will be the last thing he see when he falls to sleep. He owns a plethora of Giants memorabilia, from books to beanies to cartridges. He seems to be like any other die-hard fanatic.

But everything changes when Paul and his friend spot Bishop travelling the streets, making a shady stop along the way. They follow Bishop to a strip club and after finding the courage to get up and speak with him, Paul mentions they've been following him for quite some time. From there, a (not-so-sober) Bishop starts to freak and pummel Paul into a three-day coma. The rest of the film is about Paul's internal struggle. Should he press charges and get Bishop arrested or not? The Giants without Bishop would mean the team would suffer, but justice would be served. The Giants with Bishop would mean several wins in their record, but leave Paul with severe concussion symptoms and nothing to show for it.

BIG FAN isn't just about sports fanaticism. It's also about unrequited love. The Giants aren't going to love Paul back. He gets no apology from the team about what Bishop did for obvious reasons. The only way that they could love Paul back is by winning the Super Bowl, but that's never a guarantee. Instead he just lives for the moment when the team does love him back. He is consumed with so much hope that he doesn't care about anything else, including his own well-being.

I wish I had seen this film when I was stuck in a terrible, long-lasting, unrequited relationship. Many of my friends warned me about the whole thing, saying things like, "This is unhealthy, Paul" and I would feel ashamed when I didn't listen and had to confront their disappointed, but sympathetic faces when I told them I was still going to try for her. Why the hell did I keep going at it when it was obvious she wasn't having any of it? When I knew I would just end up hurt again? Maybe I just didn't care. I am more like him than I first realized, and BIG FAN makes it clear that all of us are like Paul in some way.

It's easy to brush Paul as a crazy fanatic, but mostly everyone does the same thing when put in Paul's place. How many times have you seen someone (or yourself) pining after someone you know will never feel the same way about you? You know for a fact that it won't happen, but you hold on to the hope anyway, and you're unable to move on to someone else because of it. Some might become obsessed with the thought of the other person. Your friends might try to get through to you ("Don't you get it? They'll never love you back! Get over it!"), but they never succeed because we all know we're being irrational. We just don't care.

Now here are some people crying over sports: