Review: Memories of Murder (dir. Bong Joon-ho, 2003)

Bong Joon-ho's Memories of Murder (2003) deals with a gruesome subject matter: the rapes and murders of 10 young women in a small Korean town in the late 1980's, a crime rendered more unfathomable for the fact that the killer never was caught. The true-life spree that paralyzed an isolated countryside village inspired a stage play in the mid-90's, which Bong eventually adapted into his film version.

In his film Bong concentrates on the detectives at the heart of the case, who struggle with the elusive nature of the killer and his bizarre, disturbing tactics. Thrown for a loop by seemingly suspicious characters in the village, including a mentally challenged village idiot-type and a family man with a fetish for porn, the main detective (played by Song Kang-ho) transfers his growing frustrations onto these innocent folk, often coercing them into confessions for crimes they didn't commit, or sending his sidekick to drop-kick them into submission. He's a cop who acts on gut and instinct first, and worries about tying the loose ends together later, if at all.

It's not until a detective from Seoul (whose smooth style and detached persona contrasts with the provincial detectives he's teamed up with) is dispatched to the case that some real clues start emerging: the killer's soft hands, his penchant for striking in the rain, his preying on girls who wear red. The Seoul cop (played by Kim Sang-kyung) mostly distances himself from the crass interrogation and buffoonery exhibited by his parters: he does his own thing, conducts his own research such as visting a local school where some schoolgirls hold potential clues, and thinks, thinks, thinks. His quiet determination is contained, but his frustrations are palpable in the drawn puffs of his cigarrette.

As the murders continue and the body count rises, the main village detective (Song's character) knows he's no longer in (his own) Kansas: dealing with some village thug or pea-brained criminal whom he can manipulate and brutalize into confession. There's a sadistic killer on the loose who can only be caught with clinical precision and forensic science, if even those prove reliable. After one particularly gruesome discovery of yet another body, he turns to Seoul man and quietly asks, "Do you see this kind of thing in Seoul?" or something to that extent, as if pleading with him to proffer that such psychotics can exist. "Never", his partner stammers.

Bong draws on the times of the era, including the occasional air raid sirens that wail through the village, or the clashes between the military and its villagers, to provide some context. The rice paddies and deep fields provide some gorgeous scenery, and the well-timed, drums-heavy soundtrack mimics the rush of adrenaline the cops feel as they intimate the killer has struck once again.

It's the end that may not bring real satisfaction, or closure. We all know how events played out in real life, so I don't think I'm giving away anything by revealing that the detectives are unsuccessful in their attempts to nab the killer. Bong illustrates the breaking point of each detective like only a skilled professional can. At the end of their rope, physically and mentally spent from their investigation, they throw their weight behind a single piece of DNA evidence which must be sent to America to be analyzed (since the technology didn't exist in Korea then). With their prime suspect, a myterious, baby-faced man whose radio call-in requests oddly coincide with the night of each murder, identified, questioned, and all but accused, it's this single sheet of paper from the United States that can deliver not only the final answer to the investigation, but their sanity as well.

Bong's portrayal of two men who must plumb the depths of their souls and turn the world as they know it inside out to solve one of Korea's most notorious serial crime sprees is riveting. By the end you feel the film has become more than just about the hunt for a killer. It's these grown men--defeated, overwhelmed and unable to even recogize themselves any longer--who have become the victims.

SFIAAFF 2007

Nine of us DC’ers traveled to the West Coast last weekend to attend the 25th annual San Francisco International Asian American Film Festival.

The festival this year offered a bounty (100+ films) of narrative features, shorts programs, documentaries, panel discussions and of course, the opportunity to meet the industry’s latest directors and actors, as well as up-and-coming and emerging voices in Asian American cinema.

Luckily there were enough of us in our group to catch simultaneous screenings over the course of the weekend although that sometimes meant seeing three, even four films in a row. By the end of the day, high on film, we stumbled out of the theater and into the night, but even then, our nights would be long from over.

Most screenings were followed by Q&A sessions with the film’s cast and crew. The brutal tale of Asian gang life, Baby, drew nearly 20 cast members from Los Angeles, who stood in the front of the theater at movie's end to sustained applause.

Justin Lin’s opening night film, Finishing the Game, a hilarious mockumentary set in the 1970’s about the casting search for the perfect “Bruce Lee”, brought out the likes of actors such as Sung Kang, Roger Fan, Dustin Nguyen, and former rapper MC Hammer on stage at the historic, ornate Castro Theater.

The shorts programs, broken down by various themes, produced some excellent pieces and meditations on the state of our current society, including the tensions brewing as a result of the war in Iraq, or the lives of street mural painters in India.

The SF festival attracts many of the who's who in Asian American cinema today, and this year was no exception. Filmmaker Eric Byler was on hand to introduce his latest work, Tre, an absorbing character drama set in the foothills of the Santa Monica mountains which also just picked up this year’s Special Jury Award. Quirky documentarian Grace Lee ventured into L.A.'s zombie subculture in her newest film American Zombie.

Gene Rhee’s Trouble with Romance weaved together both lighthearted and intimate vignettes involving love’s lost and lonely over the course of a night in a Los Angeles hotel.

Other films that we watched included Na Kamalei: Men of Hula (winner of the Audience Doc Favorite), Shanghai Kiss, The American Pastime (Audience Narrative Favorite winner), Owl and the Sparrow, and the highly-touted Asian-Canadian film, the minimalist indie flick In Between Days.

Our screeners also praised the Hong Sang-soo retrospective, which showcased all works of the contemporary Korean filmmaker (Virgin Stripped Bare By Her Bachelors, Woman is the Future of Man) known for his dissection of relationships between the sexes.

For many of us it was a rather sleepless four nights, due to the substantial after-partying and subsequent 4 am diner visits that wrapped each day. The lavish opening night reception was held at the spacious Asian Art Museum, spread out across multiple floors in the gallery’s high-ceilinged halls. The drink flowed generously, as promised, thanks to tailored drink stations set up around the museum. Who knew lychee and vodka would make such an incredible combination? And what would a trip to San Francisco be without its famous dim sum? Even the St. Patrick's Day Parade that snarled downtown traffic could not get in the way between us and our dim sum fix on Saturday morning.

It was easy to be a little--ok, fine, very--starstruck at the festival, what with the likes of Survivor winner Yul Kwon serving as MC during opening night, and Jacqueline Kim, of Charlotte Sometimes fame, sitting on the jury panel.

Back home now, and with the SF festival having just wrapped yesterday in San Jose, we’re extremely excited to be soon considering our own programming lineup for our festival now less than seventh months away.

We only hope we'll soon be bringing some of these works, and more, to a theater near you.

'Host' director Bong Joon-ho

March 1, Washington--For someone whose career is built around movies, it's no surprise Korean director Bong Joon-ho's first impression of the Lincoln Memorial evokes memories of Tim Burton.

"The size of it was impressive but at the same time it reminded me of the last scene of 'Planet of the Apes'," he said, referring to the movie's end when a monument to Ape General Thade has replaced Lincoln's throne.

Bong's first visit to Washington D.C. is full of these discovery moments, he says, as he strolls down Pennsylvania Avenue, for a prime view of the White House.

"It's a bit surreal having seen it so many times, but just in the backdrop of news," he says of the president’s residence, while pausing to snap a photo with his digital camera.

The 41-year-old director is in DC on this particular day as part of a multi-city U.S. tour to promote his latest film “The Host”, which became the number-one grossing film of all time in Korea following its release last summer.

The director is an unassuming guy in person, dressed casually in a dark-colored canvas jacket and black tennis shoes when we first meet. Of medium to average height, he wears glasses, and sports a wavy crop of hair.

Were it not for the shiny black SUV he had stepped out of at the corner of Pennsylvania and 17th, accompanied by several reps from his agency, and his translator, who is crucial to our exchange, he would appear to be any other tourist from Korea.

The Seoul native, who counts Jonathan Demme and Korean director Kim Ki Young as some of his favorite directors, knew he wanted to be a filmmaker since the end of junior high school. His first two films, the quirky but dark Barking Dogs Never Bite (2000), and Memories of a Murder (2003), a thriller based on a true story of a serial killer in 1980’s rural Korea, were both received with critical acclaim, the latter even picking up the Best Picture, Director and Actor prizes at Korea’s 2003 Grand Bell Awards.

The Host, a $12 million dollar production, is Bong’s first big-budget movie. Its central premise is of a monster from the Han River who terrorizes the people of Seoul, its special effects delivered by a company in San Francisco. The movie sold just under 13 million tickets upon its release, outstripping Korea’s best-selling movie up to that point, The King and the Clown.

In a Hollywood ending to the movie’s wave of popularity with audiences, Universal Studios has even bought the remakes to The Host.

The Yonsei grad describes this latest development as a “weird feeling”, and has some strong thoughts about the film industry.

“If you look at Hollywood, there’s no doubt it’s the leading industry in film, but they do lots of remakes of classics, of foreign movies. They’re hitting the limit with sequels so they’re going to prequels. I wonder, where are they going to go after that?”

I ask the big fan of Japanese manga and French cinema what the last good movie he saw in theaters was.

“Borat”, he says, deadpan, before breaking into a grin.

But maybe there’s some underlying truth there. After all, just as that movie about a fictional Kazakhstani journalist exposes some fundamental truths about everyday Americans, “The Host” has often been referred to as a very political film, with some critics even proclaiming it anti-American.

"It's within the tradition of monster sci-fi genre to have political commentary, a type of satire," he says. "In a way (the central characters) are fighting two monsters--the actual creature and the system that is ignoring them."

For ideas, he says he picks up inspiration for his films from snippets of conversation he overhears between people, or by witnessing their everyday behavior.

Maybe it’s the cues he finds in unexpected places that cause him to habitually saunter away when he’s finished answering a question during our interview, as I’m left scribbling away on my notepad. He has a habit of wandering, observing the action from a distance, as when he checks out other tourists, or aims his camera at the snipers keeping watch from the roof of the White House.

A directorial, or personal habit? Who knows. Or maybe he was just bored.

It’s clear anyhow that Bong doesn’t always need to be the center of attention, though his entourage wastes not a moment’s second whipping out umbrellas to cover our heads when the dark sky finally opens and the raindrops descend.

Is sudden fame something he’s embraced?

"Rather than being famous, I'm waiting for the cinematic awakening where I can write a script quickly, easily," he says, with a grin. "I'm waiting for that day."

His outlook of the future of Korean cinema is hopeful, but cautionary. “I hope it doesn’t go the way of the Hong Kong film industry—which had a huge renaissance and died away,” he said.

“I think we need to keep striving for the new—the new idea, new emotion, styles, new ways of telling the narrative,” he continues. “It’s risky, but domestic audiences need to support it by watching the unfamiliar or to say, ‘there’s something cool in this’.

The sky growing darker by the minute, Bong has to hurry back to his waiting car, which will deliver him to the airport, en route to Chicago, the next stop on his U.S. tour.

But not without these parting words does he take off: “We need to keep striving for the new, the inventive. If you’re not, you’ll find the industry in a crisis.”

And with that, his entourage all piled in, the vehicle zooms off, in the direction of the monuments of the nation’s capital, on this drizzly night.