Castaway on the Moon

Twenty whole minutes into Castaway on the Moon, you’d actually believe it to be a parody-take on the lonely, estrangement of a single character perfected like never before in the Tom Hanks starrer, Cast Away and also in the recently directed Moon. I loved both these movies myself, feeling immersed in the most desolate loneliness that a modern world could throw on you, having to handle your survival solely on your own terms, and will power, existing solely for the reason of survival, et cetera. But that’s where Castaway on the Moon stops being desperate and mournful to the point of shoving you into that box of face-tissues. Because our hero Mr. Kim here has somehow managed to get himself into a very similar, lonely situation such as Hanks’, except the fact that “lonely” ain’t exactly what you think it means here..
In fact, he finds himself a castaway, on an island, bang in the middle of a river running through the very heart of the bustling city of Seoul, right beneath a huge, congested bridge, in full view of all the skyscrapers around! No one seems to acknowledge the fact that the island exists, even if some do, they don’t consider it habitable. There’s no satellite signal here, his mobile dies, he’s too scared to kill himself by hanging, he can’t swim ashore for he’s incapable of such a task; and even if he does survive and get ashore, he’s got a lifetime of debts that would surely finish him off for good, which is why in he tries (and fails in) committing suicide in the first place, by jumping off the bridge before landing into this predicament, one that is very much his own fault. Unable to get help (and unwilling to die), he desperately starts surviving and adapting to a pseudo-bohemian lifestyle of his own, which not long afterwards, starts to appeal to his liking. In fact, he decides against leaving the island forever, living as a social recluse, and finding sustaining means of survival on his own.
All is well, until Kim finds a message waiting for him one morning, one that would change his life all over again.
Across the river, our man is being watched by a wholly different kind of social recluse. Min is a young lady, who is a complete shut-in, acutely withdrawn from society, within her apartment in a high-rise building yet still living a peaceful and contended life, just like our island hero. She lives with her parents, yet texts on her mobile to communicate with them, she hasn’t come into visual contact with another human being for years, she eats simple food and keeps a strict exercise regiment, she has her own syntax for life and sleeps in bubble-wrap blankets inside her closet. Min’s world is limited to the virtual one on her computer. In fact, she’s actually a local, virtual celebrity online. Her only view into the real world is through a small window, through which she peers out during a airborne-attack military drill every once in six months using her zoom-lens camera. And it’s in this fashion that she spots a lonely islander trying to hang himself from a tree, in vain. This brings about a total turn of events in her life, one that transforms her from a ghoul into a enhanced, hi-tech version of Amélie Poulain, eager to help and in need of love, resulting in surely one of the most memorable characters you’ve ever watched, even amidst the mecca of brilliant quirkiness that Korean cinema has turned into.
Our two protagonists don’t even come into sight of one another and share barely ten words (that too, written) during the entire two hours, yet share myriad emotions otherwise impossible to film, and even more impossible to comprehend if otherwise filmed. Mr. Kim, the islander’s character reminds me a lot about Robert Maitland, a character in a very similar situation from J. G. Ballard’s novel Concrete Island, who finds himself stranded on a fenced-off wasteland in the middle of a London motorway intersection, unable to escape due to bizarre reasons. Similarly, Min’s character seems loosely based on a reclusive “Hikkomoro” in  Joon-Ho Bong’s short film, Shaking Tokyo, that featured in the anthology of short films Tokyo!, though I believe the latter could’ve been inspired by the former too.
When the only two characters in a love story have absolutely no means of physical (or even visual) contact, each living in their respective hermit-states, with no means of communication, no form of acknowledgment for the other’s presence, and with the girl genuinely under the absurd impression that the guy is an estranged extraterrestrial, it is literally a cinematographer’s worst nightmare come true. It could have probably been easier to film a dreamy song in some exotic locale, hero and heroine prancing around each other and singing incoherent lyrics flawlessly.. wholeheartedly declaring their love to the skies and the scenery and extras around. But no, what we see here is both surreal while still real, hilarious while still heartbreaking beneath everything. There’s one touching moment when Min literally nudges our man along, giving him hope amidst lonely despair by simply sliding her little finger across her zoom-lens. Yet another scene blatantly parodies the castaway moment when the guy creates fire. The whole cinema hall was in splits for a full minute..
Though our Kim and Min might seem like freaks of nature to a more traditional, conservative and social audience oblivious to Korean films, they’re actually not so bizarre when compared to the characters you’d often see in several other films from the country. Somehow, Koreans manage to pull it off and make weird seem fashionable while still appearing graceful and elegant.
Lee Hae-jun is not as well known as other great Korean directors like Park-Chan Wook, Joon-Ho Bong and Kim-Ki Duk, basking in the breakthrough-era of Korean cinema, post 1997, but he certainly shows plenty of promise, considering the fact he’s scripted the movie himself.
As for the young actors, simply taking up such bizarre roles alone shows plenty of courage. But Jae-yeong Jeong’s portrayal of a modern-day, twisted version of Robinson Crusoe should in no way warrant critics to exalt it beyond Tom Hank’s role of Chuck Noland in Cast Away. Mr. Hanks is a terrific actor and far too respected more for his performances than for the millions he makes out of them. And the fact remains that he’s proved his worth in dozens of roles, in more ways than you can perceive his skill.
Castaway on the Moon was screened here in Chennai as part of a Korean film festival co-organized by the Indo Cine Appreciation Foundation, the one that organizes the annual Chennai International Film Festival, every December. I’m not really sure if this one’s available on DVD. But if you find a way to access it, and want to spend a light-hearted rainy afternoon, sipping hot beverage while cocooned in layers of blankets,  preferably cuddled with yours lovingly,  here are your two precious hours, gift-wrapped in painted Korean hanji.

By Fazil (at PassionForCinema.com)
To read the original article, click here 

This post is an entry to the Reel-Life Bloggers contest organized by wogma.com and reviewgang.com

The Chaser

This film is so Korean. The way it is shot and the way the story is told doesn't conform to the way many Americans think genre clues should be presented and adhered to. At it's heart, The Chaser is a crime drama about a serial killer and the guy who's chasing him, but it evolves from many different angles. It's a comedy of errors in the way the police and politicians are portrayed; a melodrama with its inclusion of the precocious little girl who belongs to the woman serving as the film's primary "chase" and investigative point; a psychological thriller in the way the serial killer messes with the minds of the police; a mildly gory film in the way the bad guy uses a hammer and chisel; a bit of a tragedy in the way it ends. The only thing missing from this film is romance. Thank god they didn't make one of the missing girls a love interest of the pimp—he's only after the money they owe him. That's where the brilliance of the chase begins.

There's a fight scene early on where our protagonist, an ex-detective gone bad turned pimp, is beating the crap out of some guy he thinks has kidnapped and sold some of his girls. A long uphill foot chase precedes the brawl so both combatants are extremely winded when the fighting begins—punches don't land and there's a girly incompetence to the whole thing, which is to say, it's realistic. After finally landing a few punches that subdue his opponent momentarily, the pimp gets up and starts kicking him in disgust. He's very angry, still a bit winded and out of control. One of his kicks only grazes its target causing him to lose his balance and fall on his butt, and because of momentum he begins to roll and his feet fly up in the air. It seems funny, but it's not. You have to sneak in your chuckle as he gets up and continues kicking the guy. When he's finally pummeled his adversary into unconsciousness, he uses his foot to roll him onto his side so he can get to the wallet in his back pocket and ID him. He attempts to sit on him, not to keep him down, but because he's bone tired from all the fighting. He doesn't land squarely and ends up rolling on his butt again. It seems funny but it's not.

After the fight scene both men are brought to the police station for questioning. Because the pimp is an ex-detective with a reputation, the cops initially sympathize with the other guy, thinking the pimp over-reacted—not to mention the causal fender-bender that brought the two men together in the first place. The pimp doesn't know that the other guy just took a hammer and chisel to the head of the girl he is trying to get back, he thinks she's just freshly been sold, making his sense of urgency misplaced, where it remains throughout most of the film. It's kind of awkward for the police to find much urgency in one pimp accusing another of stealing one of his girls. The bad guy insists he didn't sell the girl and then mumbles under his breathe "I killed her", and confesses in great detail how he killed her and several other girls. The pimp screams at the cops, "Can't you see he's just pretending to be crazy now?"

And so it goes. We know there's been killing going on and we know who's been doing it from very early on in the film but it manages to remain suspenseful throughout. The Chaser is a gripping thriller from the beginning until a few minutes from the end. The two main characters are portrayed with impeccable nuance. It's Yun-seok Kim's performance as the bewildered pimp that takes this film to great heights. There are so many things that don't go the way he wants them to, like people hanging up on him when he's talking to them on the phone, a little girl who startles him and asks too many smart questions, the cops can't do anything right; and every time, his subdued response of confused disbelief made me laugh. He brings a Kang-ho Song-ish melancholy humor to the film, (I can't think of an American actor to compare him to), while Jung-woo Ha as the impotent serial killer is so normal and unmoved it's creepy.

There are a handful of groan out loud plot moves in The Chaser, but so what. There are also more than a handful of plot moves this film doesn't do, moves that most people will be guessing it will do, that it more than makes up for it. This is a film I know I'll watch again just for the performance of it. The plot won't matter. It's that good.

More reviews at sitenoise-atthemovies.blogspot.com

Salinui chueok (Memories of Murder)

Beginning in the fall of 1986 and continuing for the next four years South Korea was haunted by the nation's first recorded serial killer. Preying upon women in a remote rural community the killer was both vicious and meticulous, strangling his victims with their own undergarments and leaving nothing of any use to the police investigating the crimes. The killer was never caught.

I do not envy any director trying to make a true crime film, particularly not one so high profile and so recent that the crimes still live on in the public consciousness. Stray too far in one direction and you devolve into saccharine sentimentality, go the other direction and you risk crass exploitation. Director Bong Joon-Ho avoided both of these traps by charting an altogether different route: he has made a film that is not about the killer or the crimes or the victims but one that is purely about the police officers charged with the case and the devastating emotional toll it took on their lives. In charting his unusual route Bong has created a bleak masterpiece, one that took home a stack of film awards in its native land but which has been largely neglected on these shores until now.

The film begins with the first body discovered, a woman strangled with her own stockings, raped, tightly bound, and hidden in a drainage culvert. The detective in charge of the case is Park Du-Man (Song Kang-Ho) and it is immediately clear that he is out of his depth, that the entire local police force, in fact, are out of their depth. The crime scene is chaos, crowded by reporters and locals trampling over potentially vital evidence. Park himself is not what you'd call a systematic investigator, scoffing at the scientific approach and trusting in his supposedly unerring eye at picking out criminals just by looking at them. He relies on swagger and bravado and the brute force of his uneducated assisting officer Jo Yong-Gu.

Serving as a foil to Park and Jo is Seo Tae-Yun (Kim Sang-Kyung) a detective from Seoul who has volunteered to assist with the investigation. Seo is the polar opposite of Park - methodical and rational - and it takes mere moments for the two to clash, clashes that lead to the two of them overlooking some key pieces of evidence.

As the film progresses and the body count continues to rise you can feel a sense of desperation slowly settle over the department. Under educated, under manned and woefully under equipped the local force is simply not up to the task. As the realisation that they will not find the evidence they so badly need begins to set in Park and Jo resort to planting evidence to bring in suspects Park picks out with his 'keen eye', suspects they then set out to extract coached confessions from. The process inevitably leads to public humiliation. Soon even Seo begins to lose his faith in reason and just as things bottom out they finally catch a break and settle on a prime suspect, one who truly appears likely to be their man. But can they make it stick? What sets Memories of Murder apart from the crowd are the rich performances from its leads and the sure hand of Bong Joon-Ho. Bong knows exactly what he wants to do with this film and he steers the ship with a firm hand. He has a keen eye for imagery but he consistently avoids the cheap resolve, the quick hit, in favour of a slowly building mood and the film is all the stronger because of it. Song and Kim are both stellar in their roles, giving their characters much needed depth. You can feel their frustration and helplessness continually growing and when the final crushing blow is delivered you can feel their utter despair at being abandoned by a system that they have given their lives to. Bong isn't just asking how this could happen, how someone could be as evil as this killer, but how could a government allow this to happen? How could the police not be given the tools and manpower they so obviously needed to protect the people? The DVD release has been given the standard Palm treatment. The transfer is strong and presented in anamorphic widescreen. The film is presented with both the original Korean language track in 2.0 stereo and an English dub in both 2.0 and 5.1. The English subtitles are solid, clearly translated and easy to read. The disc also includes a reel of cast and crew interviews discussing their characters and the creation of the film as well as an extensive reel of deleted scenes.

Memories of Murder is a minor masterpiece, a film that moved Bong immediately onto Korea's A-list of directing talent. It is richly detailed, beautifully performed and disturbing in precisely the way that people need to be disturbed in from time to time. Don't miss it.

Trailer: