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| 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?
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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