Gritty ‘Korean noir’ brings memories of brutality to Cannes
Seoul: Beyond the gleaming towers of modern high-tech Seoul, it is the dark past of South Korea’s years of dictatorship, violence and upheaval that have inspired the country’s staggering rise as a cinematic powerhouse.
No fewer than five South Korean movies are showing in the elite selection of this year’s Cannes film festival.
And Bong Joon-ho’s Netflix creature feature Okja is one of the early favourites for its top prize, the Palme d’Or.
But two of the other Korean films in competition are crime and action thrillers typical of the booming Korean noir genre.
Films about bloody crimes, gangsters and corruption, often with a political edge, have swept box offices and film awards, winning praise for gritty stories about the dark underbelly of society.
The Villainness portrays a female assassin trained as a killer at a young age by a crime ring.
She seeks a new life by working for the South Korean government with a licence to kill.
The Merciless has two former prison buddies trying to climb the ladder of the gangster world, where lying, cheating, backstabbing and violence are norms.
“South Korea has such a turbulent modern history ridden with violence and political, social upheavals... I think that may be why we are good at making thriller movies like this,” said Jung Byung-gil, director of The Villainness.
“With the military dictatorship that ruled for decades and widespread corruption... Reality is a fertile ground for so many interesting stories,” he said.
South Korea has gone through a stunning transformation in recent decades, going from a war-ravaged backwater poorer than Ethiopia after the 1950-53 Korean War to Asia’s fourth-largest economy.
Its political history is an equally hectic roller coaster. Before the democratisation of the 1990s, military rule from the 1960s to the 1980s saw tens of thousands killed or tortured—all against a backdrop of perennial tension with North Korea, now nuclear-armed.
At the same time its vibrant entertainment industry has taken Asia by storm, with its television dramas, movies, K-pop songs and stars enjoying loyal followings across the region and beyond.
Jung, 36, made his name with a series of action and thriller films, including Confession of Murder, loosely based on a series of murders of young women in rural Hwaseong in the 1980s.
The serial killer was never found, and his crimes also inspired Bong’s award-winning 2003 Memories of Murder, which highlighted the repressive social atmosphere under the army rule of the time.
The Villainess is packed with dramatic fight and killing scenes— Jung studied at a martial arts acting school—involving knives, swords, axes, rifles and handguns.
Despite South Korea’s rising stature in world cinema, its directors have limited resources, forcing them to be “more creative and more spontaneous”, Jung said.
“We don’t have huge investment or world-class technology like Hollywood. So we try to create scenes that feel more real, raw and alive than CGI-ridden US blockbusters,” he said.
The style first gained global traction with Oldboy, an emblematic mystery thriller by Park Chan-wook—a Cannes judge this year—which won the Cannes Grand Prix in 2004.
The movie, about a man seeking revenge after being imprisoned by a captor for 15 years, won rave reviews for its cut-throat, unrelenting scenes of violence and sombre, bleak cinematography.
Many other filmmakers followed suit with their own bloody thrillers.
Recent examples of the genre include 2015’s critically-acclaimed Inside Man, which detailed cosy and corrupt ties between the elites of Seoul’s business, political, media and criminal worlds.
The King—a recent swashbuckling political drama about corrupt, power-hungry prosecutors—features shamanistic rituals in which powerful political figures pray for the defeat of a presidential candidate.
After it was shot, the real-life corruption scandal that eventually brought down president Park Geun-hye emerged, centred on her secret confidante Choi Soon-sil—the daughter of her shady former mentor, a seven-times-married former shaman himself.
Park was removed from power in March and is now in custody, due to go on trial on Tuesday for corruption as well as abuse of power for ordering a secret “blacklist” of thousands of artists who voiced criticism of her or her policies.
“One day, someone may be able to make a movie about all the turbulent, painful dramas we went through these past years,” Bong, who was blacklisted himself, said.
“Many say South Korean movies are so intense, dynamic and brimming with explosive energy,” he added. “It may be because art mirrors reality.”