The Tribeca Files 1: When a DARK TOUCH Falls on Deaf Ears

The Violent Eye, in collusion with Unseen Films, will be bringing you looks at this year's Tribeca Film Festival. In its first bit of festival coverage, the 'Eye will focus on genre films in the realms of crime and suspense, as well as all those in the Midnight category. So it begins with DARK TOUCH. Follow the exploits of Violent Eye conduit to the flesh world Mondocurry on twitter.

At various points in DARK TOUCH, you may find yourself wondering how people in the film can be so blind to what’s happening? Do they not know how this works? Have they not been to the movies before?

But then, characters, or more specifically, adults that populate the provincial Irish hamlet where the story takes place don’t really notice or listen to much of anything. This seems a major point of Marina De Van‘s stylized riff on classic horror, taking the ‘little girl besieged by paranormal activity’ formula and souping it up with a shot of social commentary, if not entirely turning it inside out.

The little girl in question is Neve, wide eyed and wearing an expression of perpetual unease. Child actress Missy Keating does a wonderful job channeling a forlorn sense of knowing into her frail form. She moves slowly, as if on brittle legs, suggesting she is aged beyond her years.

After the turmoil of a messy opening scene, we get hints of some kind of trauma. And then, things go ballistic. The film sets itself apart by not beating around the bush with typical shadowy appearances and slamming doors. Instead, furniture flies about, explodes, or shoots across rooms to pin people down, while sharp ends make savage incisions on their targets. It’s the first of a few impressively wrought and very bloody transgressions.

This incident leaves Neve an orphan, so naturally, a couple once close to her parents take her in while awaiting a more permanent arrangement. Remember the adage, ‘it takes a village to raise a child.’ In effect it is the small town itself with its quaint 1 room schoolhouse that adopts her.

Naturally things begin to go awry, but not with the usual plodding about as in your typical house horror film. It’s quite apparent to everyone in the audience, even to Neve herself who, in a moment of self-awareness, declares, “I’m the one that does all this.” Yet, it is the adults of the film who don’t notice because they are too busy being…adults.

Seen as a typical revenge of the abused against the abuser story, I could see this lacking excitement. But (and perhaps this is some recent sociocultural studies classes doing the talking) DARK TOUCH seems preoccupied with a more encompassing notion of how adults act toward children, which doesn’t end with physical abuse. The act of control, of assuming knowledge of what’s best without actually listening, seems just as much an affront. De Van suggests, and none too subtly, how the children here are being socialized to carry this same pattern out from generation to generation. This is shown in a (hopefully) soon to be classic “birthday” scene that I found playfully macabre.  As well as scenes where Neve, assuming an antagonistic role, begins mimicking the ‘adults talk’ she has been hearing around her.

Cataloging the aspects of DARK TOUCH’s production that I liked could be done routinely enough. Sinister soundtrack. Claustrophobic spaces. Children bearing creepily threatening likenesses. Checks all around.

Rather, it is the points where DARK TOUCH seems to go ‘off the rails’, like the aforementioned interior explosions, that I am most interested in. There is definitely a point where logic falls by the wayside and events lose their connectivity. A more dreamlike sensibility takes over, perhaps giving in fully to Neve’s wrathful state of mind. Visually arresting scenes of destruction more than make up for any loose ends or lacking explanations. As an impressionistic lashing out against a certain cultural phenomenon, it makes quite an impact.

DARK TOUCH receives its world premiere at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival. It plays. Visit the festival website for more details.

Korean High Kick Boys Bare FISTS OF LEGEND

                                       

Having seen FISTS OF LEGEND, the new martial arts film from South Korean hit director Kang Woo-Suk (Public Enemy, Moss), I’ve had it on the brain. My thoughts have now turned to imagining it as a gala musical production. It has the makings of: A lengthy running time of Bollywood epic proportions, atypical of the average martial arts competition story. An interweaving of long dramatic interludes that takes us through key moments in the main characters’ teen years up to their adult lives.  All that’s needed is some catchy tunes and choreographed dance numbers.

Fear not fight film fans, balking at the idea as being too camp. That’s all in my mental wanderings. FISTS OF LEGEND exists right now a mostly sober martial arts film.  And, along with its numerous depictions of hand to hand combat, it absolutely stretches, pulls, and reshapes the traditional genre beyond the usual conventions.

The story is built around the premise of a reality-based tv show bearing the same name, which invites average citizens preceded by reputations of great fighting prowess to prove their ability in MMA competition.  Their incentives are the chance to achieve newfound glory and significant sums of money for each match won.   Three of the contestants, all living unique but troubled lives independent of one another, happen to share a past connection, one steeped in violent strife that none of the three is eager to return to. The story shifts between the tragedy-lined past and the contestants’ current situations, with the Fists of Legends program beckoning them in.

 Front and center in the cast is Hwang Jung-Min playing Lim Deok-Yu, a one time Olympic boxing hopeful who now runs the family noodle shop while

raising his adolescent daughter as a single parent. The opportunity to see HWANG in a major role is not one to pass up. My admiration of this star on the rise stems from seeing him play a weary, corrupt detective in The Unjust and a flashy but formidable expatriate gangster of Chinese decent in the recent New World. And that’s far from the whole of his acting accomplishments. Here he gets to show off a more nuanced performance range, capturing the good natured humbleness of someone content to be alive and accepting of his lot in life, yet haunted by his troubled past. Frustration and even rage are added to his emotional palate while trying to take care of his rebellious daughter and finding himself overwhelmed by her social problems at school.

Another bit of interesting casting finds Lim’s teenage counterpart played by Park Jung-min, a young actor who delivered a riveting debut performance in indie film Bleak Night. That movie was a stunning exploration of the culture of violence surrounding adolescent teens. Park portrayed a victim of bullying; yet here he is the most dominant fighter of the area schools, modest at first, but soon showing signs of bravado and later, rage when his ambitions to fight nationally run afoul of corrupt powers that be.

As an interesting tradeoff to the competitive matches that take place in qualifying rounds and, eventually, a tournament spectacle, we see a lot of violent interactions involving the characters in their high school days. Fights occur between rival school gangs and, eventually, between the main characters and local gangsters. At times these make for some of the more dynamic battle scenes, especially a nightclub brawl in which the high kick boys, fraught with frustration and recklessness, engage in a frenzied over the top battle with an army of thugs on their own turf that soon attracts police into the fray as well.

The mixed martial arts sequences are no slouch either. In fact, it’s a feat to marvel at considering Hwang and his colleagues’ lack of prior training, all coming from backgrounds of playing dramatic roles. Matches are fast-paced with lots of striking blows. There are kicks that comes crashing down on opponents’ heads to look out for, and a wrestling style throw in the final fight shot from an incredible angle. Also worth noting is the fact that Lim and his peers have their own unique fighting styles portrayed consistently throughout the film.

While the story is a sound one, a few aspects left me a bit cold.  There is a certain pale vagueness about the venue where matches take place. It seems almost as though it could be part of an underground fighting circuit, or maybe the set of a low budget television production…the latter is in fact what I believe it’s supposed to be. The colorlessness about it makes some of the earlier fights seem a little too distant.

The film’s unconventional inclusion of characters’ detailed backstories along with their current dealings, while a daring move, can also take away a bit from the total impact of its parts. It feels like a lot to keep track of at times. There are antagonists, inside and out of the ring, but they lack the intensity one comes to expect in a fight-centric story.

At the same time, it marks an interesting shift from the typical, and perhaps dated goals of such films, which focus on the main character trying to best an archrival. Here, more socially conscious themes of salvaging damaged friendships and taking care of family take precedence.

Yet, society is a prominent character in most of South Korea’s compelling films, and here as well, it serves as a worthy adversary to the protagonists. School bullying, the allure of organized crime on a disenchanted and misdirected generation, and corruption all contribute significantly to their struggles. The end goal, while not the bashing in of a hated rival, involves a different set of values, coming together of friends despite past differences, and strengthening of family bonds.

Another curious aspect of Fists’ is its inclusion of various nods to American culture. From the sprinkling of one-word English phrases throughout the fictional program’s production, to the variation on ‘Eye of the Tiger’ that scores the big tournament. And there is the name of one of the commentators, ‘Jason,’ perhaps meant to reference him as a former competitor with a Korean American background. The show’s female producer and self-professed creator of the show promotes it aggressively and tries to wrangle the protagonists into the competition. Her manner seems far from the traditional modest disposition expected of women in Korean society. I would be very curious to learn if her dialogue contains uncharacteristic qualities, and if this just happens to be, or if it is in fact a challenge to old fashioned cultural norms.

Are these traits a sign of affection for Western culture? Or, in light of the prominent South Korean directors making recent English language film directing debuts, is it a call for more cultural exchanges and collaboration? Another hint of this comes by way of its release details:  FISTS OF LEGEND opens this weekend in select US theaters, including here in New York and New Jersey, just a few days after its debut in its native South Korea.

Me on twitter = @mondocurry

Kitano Takeshi Takes the Lethal Gangster Lifestyle One Step Beyond: Outrage Beyond (アウトレイジ ビヨンド) review

                       
After flooring audiences with OUTRAGE a Yakuza film that walked a fine line between traditional gangster tale and modern, perhaps even critically aware, storytelling, Takeshi Kitano has returned to take things a step further with followup OUTRAGE: BEYOND. I had the good fortune to get an early look at this second chapter when it was included in a select but powerful Midnight Movie sidebar in this year’s New York Film Festival at Lincoln Center. Should the series extend to a third installment, which I highly anticipate being the case, this may very well be series’ ‘Empire (Strikes Back),’ a more somber, downbeat followup to its action-packed precursor.

But don’t be mistaken; the first OUTRAGE is nothing less than grim. It took viewers on a deliberately paced tour of shady deals, heated arguments, and acts of intimidation, all adhering to a code with an inner logic nearly impossible for outsiders to fully comprehend. The further the film progressed, acts of violence became more frequent and more brutal, particularly those carried out against Otomo (played by Kitano) and his gang, the Otomo group, whose prowess made them both a weapon and a target of the most powerful Sanno Kai Yakuza clan. As each member fell like dominoes, those waiting for a burst of retaliation would be left cold. The string of violence was presented in bleak business-like fashion, with one betrayal leading to another to another until a new regime would be left calling shots from the inner circle.

The violence here is also colder, more functional. There are less of the morbidly inventive, cringe inducing scenes of violence that pepper the first movie (though a few will brand themselves upon the brain, one of particular nastiness involving a batting range). But they are just as savage. This serves to breathe an even greater sense of realism and for that it is all the more ominous.   

Part 2 also arguably trims some of the fat found in the first movie. Take for instance, its segments where the Otomo group tricks and blackmails an African diplomat into doing their bidding and essentially being under their thumb. They may add some humor and may even be based on real life events. But for the most part, they distract from the rising tensions between the various players as they jockey for positions of power. There is nothing like that in ‘BEYOND. Instead it maintains a sustained note of dread and build up to the grisly fates that await much of the cast.  

Without a doubt, Keiichi Suzuki’s ice cold original soundtrack score drives home this sense of uneasiness. Used to even greater effect than in the first Outrage, it feels as though it could have been lifted from an ‘80s horror film. It will no doubt tickle the fancy of those who appreciated the retro leaning soundtracks of films like Drive and Beyond the Black Rainbow.   

If the first Outrage was an elegy on disloyalty, then Outrage: Beyond is a steely eyed vision of comeuppance, the wheel of karma turning to crush those who would discard honor to feed one’s own greedy ambitions. This could not have been made any clearer than in the film’s startlingly abrupt, head on conclusion. Characters, both new and familiar from the first film are faced with the seeds sown by their treachery, as all the while a new power structure is brought into the picture in the form of a rival criminal organization based in Osaka.

As before, Otomo stands out as an anomaly. Dirt in the eye of the established power structures, causing them to rub and scratch in irritation.  Unlike the first film, where this was caused by his over the top viciousness and flouting of typical mobster ambition, ‘BEYOND finds an Otomo that is weary of the game and unwilling to play the pawn-like role other powers that be have in mind for him. He is introduced into the sequel, having been believed to be dead after a vicious stabbing, being released from prison early. This arrangement is made by returning police officer specializing in organized crime Kataoka, whose plans for Otomo are no less manipulative or acidic than the criminal organizations rankled by the fact of his existence. He hopes that Otomo’s release will lead him to lash out against those forces that had led to his downfall, as well as those who are vying for control of the local crime syndicates. Otomo has other ideas on his mind, though.

The shifty cop Kataoka has a more prominent role than in the first OUTRAGE. He and other returning characters, as well as a few new ones have caricature-like personas that would fit perfectly into a Coen Brothers film. Standing out most, perhaps, are the Osaka-based crime boss Fuse’s two right hand men, Nishino and Nakata. The intensity of their pronounced speech as they bully about those that come before Fuse has an offbeat comedic element, something that is probably a hallmark of Kitano being at the helm of the production.

Also noteworthy is the stark absence of female roles in the film (the poster above gives an accurate sense of this). Even the first had very few women, and then they were placed in only the most cursory supporting roles. But I do not think I would be off in my estimation that female characters have less than a minute total onscreen time in ‘BEYOND. Here it is as if Kitano wants to increase the authenticity of his product. This Yakuza world is ruled and kept running by old, provincial men and, like it or not, that is exactly what we are getting with Kitano’s film. Or perhaps it is an insistence on distilling only the most essential components of this karmic tale. This stands in contrast to a vast collection of Yakuza tales directed by Takashi Miike, whose films include female characters as little more than victims and sexual objects, yet do little to evoke empathy or call for a critical look at the situation.

A standout feature of both OUTRAGE films, but especially ‘BEYOND, is that they in no way glamorize this violent lifestyle or make it seem cool. Not even a little. Those in power are calculating, lacking in empathy, and seem immobile, as if they’ve burrowed themselves into their powerful seats and are too set in their ways, or fearful of their downfall, to move. At the outset Kato (usurper of the Sanno Kai) and his number two, Ishihara (who betrayed the Otomo group in the first film) in control, the direct result of their double crossing transgressions in OUTRAGE’s conclusion. Any so-called honor or respect goes out the window as they are shown putting the older members of the group on notice: if they do not get with the times and learn the ways of the modern (re: economic) con, their days are numbered. It adds an interesting theme of generational conflict to the already blackened vision of a landscape where there is virtually no honor amongst thieves.

With this festival screening coming right around the same time as the film’s native Japanese release date, there is no telling its future quite yet. Let’s hope the success of the first film and fresh take on a classic genre will add some speed to OUTRAGE BEYOND’s path toward these shores.

A Man Rode Into Town 2: interview with JI Ha-Jean director of BLOODY FIGHT IN IRON ROCK VALLEY

During the summer, with images from the New York Asian Film Festival still seared into my brain, I hoped to learn more about one of the festival's less heralded yet highly impressionable films BLOODY FIGHT IN IRON ROCK VALLEY. Shot on a shoestring budget, it's a modern take on the classic Western with a main protagonist driven by revenge (reviewed here). I sought out an interview with the South Korean film's newcomer director JI Ha-Jean. He graciously answered my questions via email, giving thorough insight into his vision and the trials of making a low budget action film.

Q: I have come across many independent films from South Korea that are dramas or horror films, but not so many action. Bloody Fight In Iron Rock Valley is a very skillfully made action film. What drew you to making a feature in this genre?

JI Ha-Jean: Personally I love Western and Crime movies. I especially like the directors Sergio Leone and Jean-Pierre Melville, so I made my film with the idea of learning and practicing their cinematographic heritages in mind.

I decided to make this film after reading the book ‘Rebel without a Crew: Or How a 23-Year-Old Filmmaker With $7,000 Became a Hollywood Player’ by Robert Rodriguez. It’s like the bible of making action films with a micro budget. The reason I chose the Western genre especially is that it suits low budget filmmaking. Following the simple rule, which is ‘a mysterious man visits an isolated village and wipes out all the bad people,’ and shooting well crafted minimal action scenes, I expected the film to come out great even though it was made on a very low budget.

Q: Considering the minimal budget you had to shoot on, were there concessions or improvisations to your plans that you knew you would have to make before shooting started?

JH: The costumes were the hardest part. The extra pieces of clothing are very important for making this kind of movie, in which 17 people die, and most characters get injured or are intensely chased. However, we didn’t have a big enough budget for all the costumes, so most of the characters wore only one outfit until the end of shooting. So I tried to shoot the film in sequential order, but it was difficult. You might have noticed that, repeatedly, characters’ clothes are dirty and later changed to clean; torn and later they look like new. Also, I had to lower my expectations for the blood explosion scenes.  There was only one chance, so even though I was not fully satisfied with it, I had to say OK.

At last, we had to finish the shooting within 25 days, so we were always in a rush. We had to revise lots of scenes in order to shoot the action sequences. Especially for the scene where the character ‘AX’ is killed, it was a very complicated scene using wire action, but we finished it within 3 hours. We had to give up lots of details that were in the original plan.

However, with this restriction, the making of the film had a more frenetic vibe, so I think it is not too bad. 
Q: I’ve read that it took something like 2 months to shoot the movie -- incredibly fast! How did you make that happen?

JH: I will correct you here; it took just 1 month! It was very important for the staff and actors to get along with each other well in order to finish the film in such a short period. The shooting was done using hand-held filming techniques without any lights. We were always on stand-by. 100% of the sound was done in post synchronization. Actors were very well aware of each roll’s characteristics.

There was different theme music for each character, which we made before the shooting. We used it while shooting and it was very helpful for the actors to keep their emotions on the spot.

Also we had very few members on the staff. This was also helped to make things go fast. It’s also written about in Rodriguez’s book. The staff was made up of 7 people on site. We were always shorthanded, but they were professionals in their fields, which accelerated the process. Also, we knew very well know what we were going to do. We pursued what we could, and quickly decided to give up what was impossible at that moment.   

Q: The time and place that the movie is set does not seem clearly defined. It appears like it could be in the present, but not shown in exact detail. Is it meant to be open to interpretation? Did you have a particular time and place in mind?

JH: There is a particular time in the movie. The main character has been released from prison 12 years after 1998, so the background is in 2010.

However, in general I wanted the time to be not defined. In the films of Kurosawa Kiyoshi or Sergio Leone, the era is not clearly defined. So the story in their films has a universal context beyond the particular era.

Korea’s development has been very fast and highly compressed within the last 60 years after the Korean War. There has always been huge demolition and reconstruction in our history, so the tragic story inside ‘Bloody Fight in Iron-Rock Valley’ is quite common in our society. If the background of this movie was not the mining village in Gangwon province, it would have been difficult to blur the time. Because Korea is changing so fast, the old things are vanishing very quickly. However, the mining village of Gangwon province has stayed the same over decades. If we say it is the 1970s, people can still believe it. You could say another main character of this film is ‘space’, so it was very important to establish the atmosphere of the place.

Q: There is a very interesting use of space, for instance, the gang’s base. It seems like it was created using old machinery, other unusual props. How did you give the space the look you wanted?

JH: We didn’t have enough time or budget for designing the setting more. We had to use the location as it was, so we made a big effort while location hunting. The gang’s base is also shot at the location exactly as we found it. There are many abandoned buildings in Gangwon province. So we believed we would be able to find a great spot after checking places carefully.

After confirming the location, we revised the scenario to be suitable for it. I brought pictures of the places home and adapted the scenario and the characters’ moves to the place’s atmosphere.

Q: Several of the actors in the movie, I’m thinking particularly of LEE Moo-Saeng, YUN Sang-Wha, and CHOI Je-un have a very bold/striking look. How did you go about casting and selecting them for the role? Did they agree to work on the movie right away.


JH: I was very lucky with the casting. There are many great actors in the films of Sergio Leone, Howard Hawks and Sam Peckinpah. In their movies, the actor’s face is the characters itself. I especially like Walter Brennan, Charles Bronson, and Warren Oates.

For the ideas, I tried to find the answers within the actors’ faces. For instance, LEE Moo-saeng, his face is very bold, has a striking appearance and his eyes express quite a gloomy feeling. When I shot extreme close-ups of his eyes, I could see a sad man with a big hurt memory. However, he also looks very strong and restrained.

YUN Sang-hwa looks very violent, but also exhausted from the wrinkles on his face. In the movie, there is only one time his hat is taken off, and that is where he looks the shabbiest. Also, he shows different aspects of his look in the flashback scenes.

CHOI Je-un is a sassy girl working in the gambling house. But she is also a sweet girl, going to her father’s temple every day. Ms. CHOI has a proper look in that aspect. Also she knows how to handle guns very well.

The western genre is very rare in Korean cinema, so most of the actors were intrigued by that. I also persuaded them with my convictions to make a great western film. It helped them to get on board the project.

Q: The movie is notable for action sequences and use of different weapons (a torch, nail gun, shotgun, etc.) Were there any particular influences on directing the action/violence in the movie? Any interesting stories/challenges about doing scenes with that type of equipment?

JH: There are particular muggers who carry out orders of others in Korea. They use those kinds of tools to control people. One day, there was an event that influenced the story of this movie: a mugger blasted fire into a woman’s mouth and damaged her throat.

Korea strictly prohibits guns. This movie is a western, but if the characters were fighting with guns, it would turn into a 100% fantasy movie. No possibility at all. I wanted to have some plausibility in the film, so I decided to work with the tools that these muggers usually use.

I shot double the number of nail-gun scenes that end up appearing in the film. But it made the main character seem too violent, so I deleted half of them.

The last fight between Chul-ki and Ghost Face (Gyee-myeon) is the most important part of the film, so I tried to make the rest of action scenes less violent.

Also, when Chul-ki killed the AX, the fact that he is killed by the amulet which he was always attached to was more important than the manner of killing itself.

I incorporated the back stories into every action scene. Making the audience think of Chul-ki’s sadness was more important than the action itself.

We used a real ax in the film. We couldn’t make the fake ax, so we used a real one, which is very heavy and sharp.

When we shot the scene in which AX tries to kill Chul-ki lying down on the ground using an ax, it could have been a major accident. Mr. LEE refused to shoot the scene anymore because it was too dangerous. He felt threatened.

So the action choreographer make-up director and Mr. LEE tried to make a fake ax midway through shooting. It was made of PVC pipes and Styrofoam, but it looked really good, just like a real one. It looked so real that I was so surprised and felt guilty for the actors because I couldn’t think of making one at the beginning.

As a result, we could make a strong scene using that model. Thanks to their passion and affection for the film, we could get great results.   

Q: The movie tells a very straightforward revenge story, but you also incorporated issues of corruption and greed into it - a developer trying to force people out of their land to build something more profitable. How did you decide to make this part of the story? Was it an issue of particular importance to you?

JH: I think I already gave you the answer to this above. Korea has developed very rapidly, so people these days are living in more prosperous and convenient times. On the other hand, people in this society just keep going without consideration for others who are isolated and ignored.

This movie is fictional, but it also points out some of the problems in this society.
Just 4 years ago, 6 laborers were burned to death during a fight with policemen in Seoul. The labors wanted to keep living in their area, so they fought with the policemen who tried to remove them. However, it caused too much harm. This was a very violent event, but a new building was constructed on the spot where it happened. And people seemed to have forgotten the event very fast.

Gangwon province has such a beautiful landscape and great natural resources underground, so similar things easily happen. The people who have lived there are kicked out, and developing facilities are occupying those places.

I started developing this film with the idea that among these many victims, there might be a personal story about one individual who tries to get revenge. This movie is for entertainment, of course, but I thought that it could gain the sympathy of the audience as long as it is based in reality.

Also, it addresses the eternal theme of the ‘revisionist western’.

Q: The ending has a somewhat serial-like feeling to it? Do you have interest in developing a sequel? If not, what type of project are you interested in taking on next?

JH: You’ve got the idea correctly, but I don’t have a plan for a sequel. When the main character ‘Chul-ki’ disappeared at the end, I hoped he wouldn’t get into any more trouble afterwards.

However, I have a plan for a bigger western movie in the future. The time of the film would be further in the past. The background would be the era when the train railroad was constructed for the first time in Korea. The ‘Mr. No Name’ will appear again and he will fight with a harsher enemy.

The project I am currently working on is a horror film. I will bring forth a great horror film with lots of blood, mixed with action and adventure. Please don’t miss it!


            

A Man Rode Into Town 1: BLOODY FIGHT IN IRON ROCK VALLEY (South Korea) Review

 For some New Yorkers a few months back,a mysterious loner rode into town amidst the circle of covered wagons that is the New York Asian Film Festival, bearing a heavy burden and carrying thoughts of revenge on the brain. It came in the form of new Korean director JI Ha-Jean’s minimalist and modern Western film venture, Bloody Fight in Iron Rock Valley. While the dust cloud its screenings kicked up was a modest one, the film made a huge impression on me by cutting out all of the excess and in effect distilling a very tight and engaging sequence of violence and leaving the rest up to audience’s imagination.

The film finds the archetypal loner, released from a lengthy prison sentence, in pursuit of a murderous gang of thugs. Their actions are brutal, but little more than those of Chul-ki, who manages to learn about their whereabouts after interrogating an isolated member of the gang.

As Chul-ki rides a motorcycle across a barren landscape on a course determined to end in violent confrontation with those that have wronged him under still cloudy circumstances, the gang, led by a cooly menacing gangster going by the name of Ghost Face, is engaged in a corrupt plot to move a monk off of his sacred land.  With this twist, Chul-ki’s path toward vengeance intersects with a more altruistic one of helping the family, particularly the monk’s headstrong daughter, resist the oppression of these local warlords. However, little changes in his steely expression.
     
The successful coming together of masterfully conceived elements on a quite obviously low budget is a marvel (I was so impressed that I reached out to director JI Ha-Jean to share about how he made it happen, the details of which will follow soon in an interview with him). There is the setting, first of all, which has enough hints to reveal that it happens somewhere in modern times, but is otherwise hazy. The town where most of the action takes place, which seems to be nestled in a mountainous region, contains natural beauty, yet at the same time has a grey tinge of industrial failure. The wardrobe of mostly modern day and casual attire might strike an odd chord at first, but after a bit, it just blends right in with the relative timelessness of the movie. A gently rolling soundtrack of a repetitive bass melody is unobtrusive, but keeps us propelled forward toward the rising action. Fights themselves are riveting, for both their skillful execution and also the use of an interesting array of weaponry, which includes an axe and a nail gun. Yet for the most part, the mood is one of being dangerously on the edge while awaiting the explosive consequences of confrontations long built up.  Indeed BLOODY FIGHT...is an exercise in tightly wound coiled spring suspense and its ability to maintain that tension throughout is impressive. This is helped, in no small part, by a cast of characters with a knack for emoting with a little more than an expression. Leading the way is LEE Moo-saeng, whose eyes portend an impending doom.

BLOODY FIGHT IN IRON ROCK VALLEY has not been released in the US yet, nor am I aware of any impending plans this to happen. Seekers of smartly made action films, however, should keep an eye out for both the movie and its very promising director.

Please check back within these pages soon for an interview with director JI Ha-Jean!

Sympathy For A Wannabe Gangster: Nameless Gangster review

1990: A roundish, eager to please looking man who is well into middle age sits behind the bars of a prison cell. A shrewd looking district attorney, unimpressed with his pleasantries, demands a statement of all of his wrongdoings over the course of the past decade. Rewind to 1982, this same man, though more diminished in appearance, patrols the local harbor as a customs officer. He and his cohorts make a regular practice of skimming profits, taking bribes and other pocket lining elicit activity until one evening, during an inspection, he and a colleague come upon a huge quantity of coke. Sensing that they are in over their heads but unable to turn away the huge potential financial rewards, they seek counsel with the neighborhood gangster to put the drugs in more capable hands while at the same time ensuring they receive a cut of the action.

We go on to see the events before, after, and between these two points, that relate to this often harrowing trip from one to the other. The escapades of the not quite nameless gangster, Choi (so named directly after the leading actor portraying him, Choi Min-sik, an act of tribute on the part of the director), might have ended right after the drug sale if not for a cursory connection between the customs officer and the gangster by way of their shared family name and a particularly Korean concept of showing honor to those of the same ancestral clan.

So Choi Ik-Hyun, the elder customs officer and Choi Hyung-Bae, the younger gang leader form an awkward connection dancing around the tangles of traditional ancestral hierarchy and the more practical rules of respect for those above the law. Their relationship takes center stage as it weathers the storm of rival gangs, international prominence, political turmoil and police crackdowns. Ik-Hyun is too shrewd to pass up the opportunity to make a fortune and too proud to abandon his involvement when things become dangerous. Hyung-Bae also comes to like having the older Choi around; he sees in him both an approving paternal figure and at the same time someone in awe of his prowess.

As time progresses, the balance of power shifts in some ways. Ik-Hyun’s penchant for making and maintaining high level contacts, or greasing palms if you will proves to be an asset to Hyung-Bae’s organization. Especially during this time when maintaining one’s freedom in the face of guilt has as much to do, if not more, with having the right connections as an airtight defense. Soon Ik-Hyun fashions himself a powerful player, instructing Hyung-Bae on proper etiquette among highly influential officials. While not without its perks, it’s an uneasy fit for the more traditional gangster and an odd play for power continues to pervade their tenuous relationship.

Despite his rise in the ranks, Ik-Hyun is never a true gangster no matter how hard he tries. Early on Choi puffs out his chest at the local casino with a karate instructor soon to be younger brother-in-law in tow for security, another character who gets way more than he bargained for. Yet, he is genuinely surprised, hurt even, when the a rival gang’s leader laugh off his proposal for a more equitable arrangement with the casino owner. A stubborn idealism on Ik-Hyun’s part even finds him dealing with that same rival gang leader later on, feeling that he’s earned the right to do business as he sees fit. The trouble it lands him in with Hyun-Bae finds the disheartened gangster empty of bravado, instead seeking pity for his misstep.  

Choi Min-Sik’s masterful multifaceted performance captures our attention throughout these proceedings. Before the film is over he will cower, boast, negotiate, and grovel. There is also the split between his gang activity and family life. Brief snippets appear throughout, in which he welcomes his younger sister's suitor to the family and nags his son to keep up his studies. Few actors can pull off such a seamless transition from one mood to another.

Besides Choi Min-Sik, at least two other individuals involved in the movie should receive strong praise. One is director Yun Jong-Bin who, with only a few feature productions under his belt, took on this rather epic project. Not only are there many plot intricacies to keep track of, but also a historical context that demands careful attention. Yun depicts signifiers of the time with the same aplomb that Fincher brought to Zodiak. Music, for instance, is cleverly used to mark the timeframe of the story with the government crackdown of the ‘90s set to a suspenseful score (think the moody beat driven sounds of movies like The Yellow Sea and The Unjust), and ‘80s Korean fuzzed out rock and early pop punctuate the gangsters’ rise to prominence. Bridging the two modes is a cover (by Chang Kiha and the Faces) of a psychedelic pop tune, I Heard a Rumor, with organs even more swirling and fuzzed out than on the original.

The other is Ha Jung-Woo who plays Hyung-Bae. He is an actor that has building an impressive resume of his own, playing complex emotionally challenged characters. See his work in such films as Time, My Dear Enemy, and The Yellow Sea for an idea of his impressive range. Here he gives a great turn as a stone faced gang leader with subtle cracks in his facade that indicate his weakness for Ik-Hyun. His scenes with Choi Min-Sik show off an electrifying chemistry, especially during a frantic final confrontation.   

On a few points, Nameless Gangster reminds me of aspects of The Wire. Considering that show’s reputation as a highly realistic crime drama, that comes as a compliment. First is the interesting resemblance between Ik-Hyun and Season 2’s Frank Sobotka, himself a dock worker, who finds himself in a position where crime pays too much to turn down. Both think of their families as they head down channels that bring them closer and closer into conflict with the law. More pointedly is the split between a new and old type of gangster. Both dramas focus on traditional gangsters, like a Hyun-Bae or Avon Barksdale, who grow disinterested, threatened even when the business end of their game comes to take a more dominant role in the enterprises they have established.

When the movie reaches its conclusion, we come to a distant present day, in a scene that speaks of the passing of time from one generation to the next. It does feel very much like coming to the end of a hard travelled journey. One that has spanned years, political change, and personal trauma.

Doom Minus A Bit Of The Gloom in Korean Scifi Omnibus DOOMSDAY BOOK (review)

The easiest way for me to sum up The Doomsday Book would be as follows:  two world end disaster comedies book ending a somber meditation on our awkwardly progressing relationship with artificial intelligence.  Made up of three films, the first and last by Im Pil-Seong, and the middle by the maverick genre contortionist Kim Jee-woon, it offers a rare venture by Korean cinema into the realm of science fiction, with visions of the future that are alarming,thought provoking, and some would argue not too far off.  

The first story, Brave New World, takes a stab at the zombie genre. Here zombie epidemic is linked to gross mass consumption, disposal and the spread of germs and contamination that come about as a result, making it a far more tangible threat than other more fantastical versions have shown.  There is great attention to creating visuals that are both comic and stomach churning, as scenes of overflowing trash containers, a cattle slaughter house, Korean bbq dining, and even facesucking kiss causes many of the senses to bristle.

The film starts out with a joke-y sitcom vibe before shifting towards more panic stricken epidemic mode, as the rabidly violent infected citizens begin to twitch into undeadly activity, including the main character, a scientist who’s been left at home to babysit the family apartment.  But tongue remains planted in cheek throughout making this story an entry into the realm of zomedy.  There is cutting satire, characteristic of Korean films, especially when a live news broadcast of politicians and assorted experts weighing in on the crisis is shown. Even in the absence of infected attackers, nobody keeps their head, as the show devolves into screaming, propagandizing, and Russian folk songs.  

There are rousing scenes of destruction and human carnage, much of it shown in the club district Hung Dae, with still uninfected drunken revelers being hard to distinguish from those that have transformed.  While this and the satire make things fairly entertaining, there is some loss of engagement when the spectacle of society’s demise replaces any human drama.  We’re left with some exciting visuals, and a hint of deeper meaning, but little else before shifting to the next story.

The middle piece, The “Heavenly Creature” is the most philosophical of the three and the only one that I feel fans of ‘hard’ science fiction will find legit.  It is a minimally told exploration of the idea of artificial intelligence surpassing its intended function of unquestioningly carrying out humankind’s commands.  Readers of PLUTO, Urasawa Naoki’s excellent manga re-envisioning of the Tezuka classic ATOM, will appreciate this for delving into similar territory, looking at opposing reactions to an evolution of consciousness within one of our own creations. There are those that are open minded  and sympathetic while others are fearful and suspect of malintentions.  

This story takes places at the earliest stages of such kind of potential robot revolution.  Here, though, the sympathetic side is represented by a group of Buddhist monks who believe they may have found the embodiment of Buddha within one of their monastery’s worker droids.  After a technician called to the scene is baffled by the robot’s complexity of responses to a routine battery of tests, the opposition enters the picture in the form of the robot production company’s wheelchair bound CEO and a team of armed soldiers.      

What follows is a growingly intense conversation between the executive, the monks, the robot, and technician, who finds himself in the pivotal point between the job he is familiar with and a developing empathy for the creations he has been working throughout his career. The question remains: should this abnormally functioning robot be classified as transcendent or defective?   

Aside from the monastery, the story’s only other setting is a cold, cubicle-like apartment complex where the technician lives and experiences an instance of humans’ growing inhumanity, as a young and unmannered woman demands he repair a robotic pet only to callously dispose of it when dissatisfied with the results.  Within this simple story an impressive number of themes abound: the aforementioned question of how to respond if our technology achieves equal intellectual footing, human’s growing attachment to and immersion amidst non-sentient robotic companionship, and the notion of spirituality being an exclusively human quality. On this last point, the film quietly raises an astounding ‘what if’...: What if an android could flawlessly embody and deliver religious sentiment the same if not better than an ordained priest or minister could? It is striking the way the modest tenets of Buddhism match with robot’s minimal expression and appearance.  

The confrontation also calls to mind paranoid notions of large corporate entities controlling government and military complexes, to an end that seems more of a risk to our freedoms than that posed by artificial life forms. Indeed this minimalistic venture from the very talented Jee-woon provides much to think about.   

For the third and final piece of this trilogy, scientific explanation is out the window. So too are any philosophical ponderings. Once again, this is a humorously rendered tale with catastrophic results directed by Im Pil-Seong. This story plays for bigger laughs than the first, putting earth as the destination for a giant, hurtling something (best left as a surprise), which was unwittingly ordered by a girl killing time on the internet. The televised response to the ensuing end of the world is hilarious, pitting infomercials for rapidly conceived of and very faulty products delivered with rampant enthusiasm versus newscasts run by a dull and listless anchor. This broadcast devolves, like in the first story, but this time it falls into a more universally understood soap opera that plays out among the self-absorbed broadcasters. This film is less about the public falling into a panic and more about the charming persistence of the Korean family unit, but this story really doesn’t sufficient time to develop this theme to any great effect.

While there are many good ideas throughout this trilogy, a few things don’t sit well with me. The fact that the first and third parts are so similar in theme and structure, yet the middle piece is so different might have came about effectively, but to me it made everything feel like it dragged on longer than it should. Had there been some effort to cleverly transition from one story to the next, I might have felt a stronger reason for them all to be packaged together.  I might’ve forgiven the disparity more if Jee-Woon’s piece was more interesting. While effective, I found it did not reach the level of awe I associate with just about every feature film I’ve seen him direct.

A different setup would have given the collection some symmetry. If it was three completely different visions, each piece might stand more powerfully on its own. Instead, the Jee-woon directed middle piece made me feel more like I was being taken out of the mode of the first two stories. Alternately, three cohesive stories that all shared a common thread would have been successful as well. I’m reminded of an independent science fiction triptych from 2003, Greg Pak’s Robot Stories. Shot on a very modest budget, each story (all of them directed and written by Pak) stood on its own as unique, but shared similar themes and aesthetics with one another. It gelled together without seeming so disjointed. For Doomsday Book, then, could Im not have put together 3 stories of flashy apocalypse scenarios? Might Jee-Woon’s far more “The Heavenly Creature” have better fit another assemblage of short films, or perhaps stood on its own? Reports hold that the final piece was completed to make up for another director’s short film that could not come to be, and was collaborated on by both Im and Jee-Woon. However, while it does have something of a tacked on feel, it really doesn’t bear much of Jee-Woon’s mark either.   

A part of me laments that such great ideas were not worked into something that was molded into a more cohesive whole, one that could have made the same heavy impact as other films that have born Jee-Woon’s name. Still, there are few trips to the cinema that offer zombies and spiritual robots, outlandish visions of world destruction and serious contemplation, in one sitting. This makes Doomsday Book at the very least worth skimming through.