I Saw The Devil
I SAW THE DEVIL
Written by Park Hoon-Jung
Directed by Kim Jee-Woon
Starring Lee Byung-Hun, Choi Min-Sik, Jeon Gook-Hwan
Image source: Cine-International
Korean directors these days are consumed with darkness, it seems. Whether it's more of a national curiosity or just unfailing stomachs, the most internationally successful products from the country/countries are messed-up movies. (Unless they're Gangnam Style.) At no point does South Korean prodigy Kim Jee-Woon's video nasty I Saw The Devil fail to remind us of this trend, nor this director's unswerving gaze, nor the depths of depravity into which these performers are willing to plunge. Ultimately, it's hard to emerge from this very extreme film feeling much other than an unpleasant feeling in the pit of one's stomach, though it is well-paced and tightly shot.
When the pregnant wife of secret agent Kim Soo-Hyeon (Lee Byung-Hun) is butchered by sadistic serial killer Jang Kyung-Chul (Choi Min-Sik), he takes a leave of absence from his badge and dives into a headlong pursuit of the murderer, determined to exact on him every ounce of pain that his wife felt before her demise.
As far as revenge flicks go, it's a simple premise elevated by the quiet complicity of Soo-Hyeon's father-in-law (Jeon Gook-Hwan) and the character arc of the protagonist, which sees him descending into the same kind of mortifying behaviour by which his nemesis is distinguished. It is also separated from its peers by the bizarre decisions made by Soo-Hyeon early in the film, when his target is all but trussed in front of him. Soo-Hyeon wants more than to simply catch and kill his prey, and the line between hunter and hunted all but disappears as the narrative progresses.
In the vein of the classic Oldboy (in which Choi Min-Sik starred), this is unrelenting, violent cinema though it lacks something of the poetry in motion that favours the latter. It wouldn't be surprising to find that some of the blood on Choi's face is his own - these actors are vicious, believable combatants, and Choi's ease with a blade in hand is both remarkable and terrifying. The malice he brings to the part is as sharp-edged as his tools, and makes him utterly antipathetic. As for Lee Byung-Hun, he is a man possessed - so driving is his point of focus that he flies far off the moral radar and makes some monumentally stupid mistakes, but he is otherwise a compelling protagonist.
There are occasions when the extremity of the film becomes self-parody, like when a forensics officer holding a human head in a box trips and spills the load in front of the victim's husband. At such moments one gets the distinct feeling that the makeup crew (and possibly the screenwriter) were high-fiving and laughing during what should be a somber moment. This detracts from the greater atmosphere of dread that defines the film.
It's also interesting to note that, while the dead wife acts as a catalyst for Soo-Hyeon's solo manhunt, this is without question a film charting the clash of two men. Women are merely objects in this pursuit, potential victims and "bitches" that don't and can't understand someone like Kyung-Chul. Not one of them is a character with agency, and all of the film's most predatory acts are enacted on their bodies. In one particularly harrowing scene, when Kyung-Chul forces a girl to fellate him, Soo-Hyeon's entrance makes almost nothing of the act. He doesn't condone it, but he doesn't prevent it, and he certainly doesn't treat the victim with anything resembling sympathy in the fallout. It is strange to see talented contemporary filmmakers trapped in such modes of representation, and whether or not this is symptomatic of a greater cultural issue is not a question that I am qualified to answer.
Do not expect laughs from I Saw The Devil, and don't expect redemption. This is not a film where the hero rebuilds himself after a tragedy. The morality meter has slipped from greyscale into black, black, black, and there is no level to which these men won't descend to satisfy their ends. This is a harrowing journey into the madness of revenge and the villainy of truly evil men. It is imperfect, but effective, and it will guarantee a night of distinct discomfort.
Thanks for an excellent review! I sat through this film last night, and wouldn't have done if it wasn't for your post.
ReplyDeleteThere was one thing which I was wondering about as I watched the film. It is quite possible I was reading too much into Kim Jee-Woon's direction, but I found that his objectification of women in this film was deliberate, self conscious and meaningful.
From the beginning of the film the camera mirrors Choi Min-Sik's contemplative and predatory consideration of the female form. We have uncomfortably long and lingering shots of the killer's victims. In the beginning the killer's contemplation was almost disinterested, dispassionate. We have the sense of a man who no longer takes passion in his work somehow. As the film progresses, and the hunt exacerbates, Choi Min-Sik becomes more excited, and more sexual in his aggression. Strangely the concentration of the camera moves away from his victims to long shots of his face. Now the audience is forced to watch the killer's excitement, rather than the object of it.
In fact, both the male leads seem to forget the object of their passion or love (women), and it becomes the object of their hate that drives them (each other). The camera mirrors this. The protagonist moves from loving fiancée, to being unable to see women as anything other than pieces in the game he his playing with his prey. As the film progresses the revenge becomes talked about more and more in terms of 'winning' and 'losing'.
There are several scenes where Kim Jee-Woon seems to bring this objectification to the fore. After the horrible opening, watching the killer dissect his female victim, we are taken to the police search team. When the corpse is found there are terrifying shots of EVERYONE rushing to see it, to pour over the female object, to film it and measure it and understand it. The falling of the policeman, and the accidental revealing of the head, underscores the absurd lack of tact, and the lack of sensitivity, that all of these figures (and by extension, I think, the audience) show to the body of this young woman.
Further, there is a particularly poignant line given to Choi Min-Sik in the opening half an hour or so. Leaning over his new victim, a school girl, he says something like 'I'm allowed to like you, right? Everyone agrees' (I think). For me, this is a completely self-aware line. The culture allows, and even encourages, the sexual objectification of the female form (particularly the Asian schoolgirl), but violently denigrates what the killer clearly sees as the logical progression of this sexual objectification.
I could go on. The scene in the clinic where the killer forces the nurse to undress for the camera. The killer's friend who, it is strongly hinted, LITERALLY consumes the female form. All of these things and more suggested to me that Kim Jee-Woon was not trapped in these misogynistic representations, but was actually exploring the directorial techniques, and the audience participation, which goes into making these representations.