Black Korea

Wasn’t Bong Joon-ho described as the Korean Spielberg at one time? That sounds about right. But maybe with a little bit more of an edge (and more violence and sex). I’ve never liked Spielberg. For me his name has the connotation of technical proficiency, white suburban families, and an imagination reduced to narratives that play it safe. Recently someone asked me what my favorite Spielberg movie was and I said 1941¹.

     Bong is a similar case because even his best film, The Host (2006, Bong Joon-ho), doesn’t really do it for me. Yes, it’s visually inventive and wonderfully immersive in its own world. And yes, its characters have realistic qualities that make me care about their family, especially Song Kang-ho. But so what. Beyond pointing to strengths or weaknesses, the only reason I watch movies and write about them is because I’m in search of the best films—my favorites. And I doubt Bong or Spielberg will ever make a film that I fall in love with.

     Bong has been an interesting case to study. He belongs on my list of best directors of the twenty-first century, even if it’s at the bottom. And speaking of Korean directors, that list should also include Kim Ki-duk. I haven’t bothered googling the subject, but my preliminary efforts seem to result in:

·         Joseph Kahn

·         Charlie Kaufman

·         Michel Gondry

·         Apichatpong Weerasethakul

·         Steve McQueen

·         Carlos Reygadas

·         Kim Ki-duk

·         Bong Joon-ho

·         Jonas Åkerlund

     I’ve gotta be missing someone.

     Parasite (2019, Bong) is one of those movies that seem to have it all. It’s original. It has a message, which seems similar to what Us (2019, Jordan Peele) is trying to tell us, but executed in a more subtle and resonant way. And we get a family with a patriarch played by Song Kang-ho that drives the narrative, and compellingly provide a nuanced portrait that is both sublime and devastatingly earnest. Also it won the Palme d’Or this year.

     As much of an aversion as I have to films with a message, Parasite gets it right. Also I can’t recall the last time I found myself surrendering to a film dealing so prominently with cellphones, social media, and other technological features of the modern age I usually go to the movies to get away from. But what really hooked me into Parasite is its moral ambiguity, and depiction of lying as casual common practice and the rehearsed performances that arise out of a result of this.

     As a confessed auteur snob I was excited to see Bong return to making a Korean film, but also elated to discover how well Parasite fits in his body of work. Specifically, Parasite embodies Bong’s talent for defying audience expectations. And this isn’t just about plot points. It’s also the tone, which is probably what really sets his vision apart. Bong always parcels out bits of morality and circumstance that keep you reevaluating how you relate to his characters, what you would do in their place, and finally, where these new revelations mean the plot’s heading.

     Then in a more general way, there’s his rain trademark. At the very least I know rainstorms play a huge part in set pieces in Memories of Murder (2003, Bong) and The Host. But Parasite out does any of his previous efforts in this regard. I’ll just say the rainstorm in Parasite occurs right when Bong’s got you trapped in his web and then he hits you with an onslaught of provocative, genre storytelling that shapes the film into its final form. Aside from that there’s also a funny bit that involves a cellphone with a slo-mo camera, a homeless man urinating, a water bottle, and a bucket full of water. Yes, Parasite is probably one of the best movies I’ve seen this year.

     Bong is also an expert at foreshadowing as a narrative tool. Maybe foreshadowing isn’t the right word for what I’m trying to say here, but it’s more like when he plants a seed and then gets the most out of it he can while the story unfolds. In Parasite for example, consider the rich mother buying her son an Indian arrow. The first time KI-WOO (Choi Woo-sik) enters the Namgoong-designed house, we see the rubber suction cup-tipped arrow stuck high up in the wall as the housekeeper removes it. What at first seems insignificant is developed into gargantuan: the teepee, the headdresses, the motif of playing make-believe but I don’t want to spell it out here so as to avoid spoilers.

     In closing, Parasite is powerful, defies genre categorization, exceeds at clever, intricately plotted storytelling that produces a range of effects in the results of its unraveling; and finds director Bong at the height of his talents. And like The Host the title’s meaning is elusive even after you’ve seen the movie, but in a good way. As a devout fan of the importance of family in filmmaking, Parasite proves a miracle in the truths it embellishes and the ways it leaves you to understand your own definition of the word.

¹From a historic point of view I think 1941 (1979, Spielberg) is fun because it stands along with Apocalypse Now (1979, Francis Coppola) and Heaven’s Gate (1980, Michael Cimino) as these giant movies greenlit because of the status of their auteur directors and remain monuments of excessive budgets, length, and scope, yet still somehow work and don’t deserve the stigma that’s followed them. But also I think 1941 might be Spielberg’s only comedy? And I really do think it’s funny.