Thursday, November 7, 2019

Parasite: Class Disparity Has Never Been More Entertaining


Gisaengchung (2019)

Let’s start this movie by calling myself out for being a film geek poser: I’m not that familiar with the works of Bong Joon-Ho. I’ve loved everything of his that I’ve seen so far, but he didn’t really catch my interest until he started making movies in English. Those films being Snowpiercer, a close-quarters sci-fi brawler that uses a perpetually moving train circling an apocalyptic world as a metaphor for class warfare, and Okja, a charming little tale about a girl trying to rescue her genetically modified pig friend from being paraded around and slaughtered by the movie’s version of Monsanto. This knack for multi-layered satire of capitalism and class disparity is present and accounted for in Parasite, Bong’s first Korean film in ten years. Only now the setting is far less fantastical, its scale much smaller, and Bong’s writing and technical prowess has been folded, hammered and sharpened into katana blade precision.

Our story follows the Kims, an incredibly poor and unemployed family who stumbles upon the job opportunity of a lifetime. Ki-woo (Choi Woo-Jik) is called upon by a friend to take his place as an English tutor for the wealthy Park family, fooling their stay-at-home trophy wife matriarch Yeon-Kyo (Jo Yeo-Jeong) into thinking his credentials are legitimate. (Although that wasn’t so tough since she’s not the brightest bulb in the lamp.) Soon enough he gets his sister Ki-Jung (Park So-Dam) to bluff her way into a job as an art tutor for her eccentric son (Jung Hyun-Jun), then they get the Park’s driver and maid fired so their mom and dad (Jang Hae-Jin and Song Kang-Ho) can take their place, with the Park family completely oblivious to the fact that their new staff are all related.

That premise opens itself up to plenty of possibilities. Is this a comedy? Is it a psychological thriller? A horror film, perhaps? Well, Bong Joon-Ho being the kind of director he is, decided to opt for all three. For the first third, we get laughs from this down on their luck family conning a bunch of gullible one-percenters into giving them jobs. The way the Kims integrate themselves into the Park’s lives is framed like a heist movie, cutting between them practicing their great scheme by forging documents, rehearsing lines and window-shopping for cars, and the ensuing execution by exploiting some other weaknesses, mainly Yeon-Kyo’s naivete and her breadwinner husband’s (Lee Sun-Kyun) general absence. There’s even a scene where they try to sneak out of the house undetected that feels something out of Mission: Impossible. While they may not have formal education or training, they’re not lazy or stupid. Quite the opposite, in fact. They have to be smart and cunning in order to survive. Of course, the prize of the big grift isn’t money or glory, it’s simple secure employment, something they’re all desperate for in a saturated market.

When I say they’re desperate, I do mean desperate, because the Kim clan is about as poor as they can be without being outright homeless. When we first meet them, they’re cramped together their low-level basement apartment, squeezing into the corner of the bathroom to get free wi-fi, folding up pizza boxes for cash, and leaving the windows open when an exterminator comes by so they can get free fumigation. The Park residence, meanwhile, is a swanky modern home on top of a hill with glass walls that give a view to their walled-off backyard. Much like the titular setting of The Lighthouse, the house is like a character itself: a safeguard for the privileged Parks with its own history, personality, and secrets waiting to be discovered, where they can safely watch the rain fall while everyone below them struggles to keep their own homes from flooding. The film takes great lengths to emphasize that wealth hasn’t turned the Parks into vicious highfaluting sociopaths, but rather complacent and thoughtless. They’re nice, but only because they can afford to be. But much like how the Kims try to leech off the Parks, we get brief glimpses that show just how much the Parks need them around to function.

And then things get weird.

Without giving away too much, we learn halfway through that the Kims are not the first to come up with this idea, and in pulling it off have screwed over some of their fellow have-nots. While the Kims have the house to themselves while the Parks are away on vacation and have a rare moment where they’re allowed to let their guard down, complications arise when their old housekeeper (Lee Jeong-Eun) re-enters the picture and reveals secrets about the house that even the Parks aren’t savvy to. It’s at this point where the movie takes a more sinister turn and the Kim’s charade is threatened. Some of the claims that this suddenly becomes a horror movie halfway through are a bit exaggerated. It’s more accurate to call it a Hitchcockian thriller, with plenty of moving parts, planting and payoff, and a tense buildup to an explosive ending. Carrying on a well-worn tradition in Korean cinema, the movie’s use of violence is sparing, but leaves an indelible impact when it’s finally executed. I wouldn’t say it’s as gory or over-the-top as, say, the finale to Once Upon A Time in Hollywood, but considering how pristine and clean-cut everything has been up to that point, it might as well be.

Bottom line, Parasite is a phenomenal, funny, sinister, twisted, unpredictable piece of pure cinema. It’s expertly written, shot and choreographed, keeps up a lively pace that assures there’s never a dull moment, constantly keeps the audience on its toes, and provides plenty of commentary on class warfare and what happens when one loses empathy without painting either side as repulsive monsters. Easily one of the best movies of the year, and possibly the best of Bong Joon-Ho’s entire career.

9/10

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