By Jennifer Flinn

If it's true that revenge is served cold, then the chilly stateside reception for Chan-wook Park's Revenge trilogy makes perfect sense. Except that it doesn't. Jennifer Flinn discusses why.

Chan-wook Park has finally completed his "Revenge" trilogy with the summer release in Korea of Sympathy for Lady Vengeance (Jinjeolhan Geumja-sshi – literal title “Gentle Miss Geumja”) and the first two installments, Oldboy and Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance (Boksuneun naui geot).  However, there's not much consensus on either side of the pond as to what his films mean, or even whether they're any good. They've inspired both admiration and admonishment, not to mention a hearty dose of squeamishness from audiences and critics alike. In short, Park might just have made the most controversial set of films ever to cross the Pacific.

It's not hard to understand why the films elicit such a variety of responses. Over the course of three films he's shown us radical politics, gangland violence, incest, drug use, more incest, kidnapping, prison sociology, electrocutions, severed body parts, violence against cephalopods, suicides, ghosts, and yes, more violence. And did we mention the violence? All of which is stylishly filmed with a flair for sly humor and social commentary. Some critics come away breathless with delight at the verve and style, finding in “Revenge” multiple layers of social commentary. Others are revolted by the brutality and carnage that they see less as essential, and more as mere dross on an empty and hollow set of works. Still others flat out can't stomach the much-commented on scene in Oldboy where Choi Min-shik's character eats a live octopus (Choi apologized to each of the four octopi he consumed in the course of filming that scene, if it makes you feel any better about it.)
 
Surely there's nothing wrong with critics having a wide variety of opinions, especially for a trilogy encompassing a wide range of moods and styles, but Park's films have inspired extreme reactions by supporters and detractors. Quentin Tarantino is a high-profile supporter of Park's, and was the key player in bringing Oldboy to acclaim and attention at the 2004 Cannes Film Festival, where it took the Grand Jury Prize. On the other hand, Oldboy was the subject of the notorious Rex Reed review in the New York Observer, where Reed not only tore into the movie itself by calling it “sewage in a cocktail shaker” and walking out during the finale, but also went on to include his evaluation of Korean culture: “What else can you expect from a nation weaned on kimchi, a mixture of raw garlic and cabbage buried underground until it rots, dug up from the grave and then served in earthenware pots sold at the Seoul airport as souvenirs?” 

His belated and grudging apology hardly mended any fences with his claims of understanding Korean culture (not to mention bringing up Reed's participation in Incheon, hardly a movie any sane person would brag about being in), but also highlighted a growing problem: are Park's films, and the films of other Asian directors, getting a fair shake in the states?

Certainly Park's films draw controversy in his native land. You need not be an American to blanch at the thought of seeing a small girl beaten to death or incestuous relationships. Korean critics as well as foreign ones wonder whether Park's films condemn the violence or are merely relishing the sadistic events. But things that are obvious to the native audience get lost either in translation or because critics aren't familiar with the social and political conditions shaping the movies they see. A recurring criticism of Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance is that Park never fully develops the political and economic realities that he introduces with the characters in the first half of the film, but it's less about them not being there and more about changing form. The second half of the film is easily just as politically and socially adroit as the first, but the signifiers become less obvious as the story picks up. 
Furthermore, while domestic and English-language films get judged on a variety of merits, few foreign-language film reviews get much further than the plot and style. There's little chance that a fantastic performance by an actor can lift the rating of a film, or that a clever dialogue will get any notice.  Unless an actor already has clout here, reviewers don't usually even bother commenting.  Song Kang-ho and Shin Ha-gyun (Sin Ha-kyun) were lauded for virtuoso performances in Mr. Vengeance in Korean reviews, but American reviews sometimes don't even mention who played what role. Lee Yeong-ae's acting in Sympathy for Lady Vengeance was the subject of rabid speculation before release and hot debate afterwards in Korea, but the chances are she'll just be a name in parenthesis in the plot overviews when the movie hits these shores.

Another factor is that while Asian cinema has made increasing inroads in America, its past hasn't quite let go. For the longest time, movies from Asia came in two forms:  chop-socky and cult flicks or sprawling, beautiful art films; take your pick between Jackie Chan or Kurosawa.  With increasing quality and production values for all genera, Korean films are now more competitive overseas and at home where they can reliably compete with and even edge out Hollywood fare. Park's revenge trilogy may be art house fare in the states, but in Korea he was known first for the mainstream blockbuster action/drama Joint Security Area and his films get wide theatrical release at home. Park and his works are sitting on the fence between mainstream and art cinema, but it's the western critics who are getting sore trying to figure out what to say about him.

Published: Thursday, October 20, 2005