The new
Korean movie from Ji-woon Kim, director of “A Tale
of Two Sisters,” “A Bittersweet Life”
is another one of those modern Asian action movies that
use violence not just for entertainment (although it serves
that function too), but as an arena for the characters to
exorcise their inner turmoil, letting us see into their
state of mind. It contains lots of fight scenes, but unlike
most modern Hollywood action movies, the fighting is there
almost as an artistic expression. Between the fighting,
an involving story develops that is more intriguing than
many would expect.
The
main character is Seon-woo (Byung-hun Lee), an ‘enforcer’
for President Kang (Jeong-cheol Kim), a rich, dangerous
hotel owner. If Kang needs people taken care of, Seon-woo
will deal with it. One day, President Kang mentions to Seon-woo
that he is seeing a much younger woman, and that he suspects
she is cheating on him. If Seon-woo finds out this is the
case, he is to kill both the girl and her other lover.
Seon-woo
goes to meet his boss’s mistress, and begins to fall
for her; this is revealed not through Seon-woo’s face,
which remains expressionless, but through the sensuous close-ups
of the girl, as seen from Seon-woo’s point of view.
He finds out soon enough that President Kang’s suspicions
were correct, and she is having a relationship with another
man. He goes into her house to kill them, but… well,
you can probably guess what happens. Seon-woo comes from
such a closed world that he thinks that she might fall for
him if he decides not to kill her, not realising that this
isn’t quite the same thing as saving her life.
I will
reveal no more about the plot, other than to say the movie
ends up as a revenge story; I wouldn’t dream of saying
between whom or why. The action and the violence get more
intense as the story develops, leading to a stunning climax
which is a sort of battle ground in which East meets western.
The
first third of the movie, in which a relationship of sorts
develops slowly and subtly between the girl and Seon-woo,
is not what you might expect in this type of movie; there
is a scene where he just sits and watches her play the cello;
no action, no dialogue. You suspect that Seon-woo hasn’t
ordinarily got much time for women in his line of work.
What
I found most interesting about the character was the fact
that his hard, nasty side, effective and even chilling,
is really just a front: an act, to protect himself. When
he is alone, he occasionally mumbles to himself. There is
a scene where he is just driving, and you can see the edge
of a smile on his face. He has probably never known a life
without evil and violence, but at such moments, you suspect
that he is basically a normal guy.
Like
many recent movies of this genre, it’s stylishly made
and contains a good deal of dark humour. My favourite moment
in the entire movie came when one character shows another
how to strip a gun. Both guns are stripped, and one tells
the other that they should put them together and to see
who is fastest. Just then, one gets a phone call, telling
him the other is not who he thinks he is. The man knows
what the other just heard on the phone. Both look at their
guns, lying in pieces, and they realise – just as
the audience does – that they are going to have to
put the guns back together, and the one who does first will
have the upper hand in the situation. It’s a moment
that mixes tension, violence and humour in a way that would
not be out of place in a Tarantino movie. Like the whole
movie, it’s a juggling act. “A Bittersweet Life”
contains philosophy and genuine emotion within the context
of a violent and superbly entertaining action movie.
Adam
Whyte
Stylish
and full of attitude, this elegant revenge thriller has
worms itself under our skin with vivid characters and jolting
emotions. It's ultimately rather indulgent, but filmmaker
Kim Ji-woon has enough skill to make it work.
Sun-woo
(Lee Byung-hun) is a loyal employee of mob boss Kang (Kim
Young-chul) who, when he goes on a business trip, asks Sun-woo
to watch over his young girlfriend (Shin) and "take
care of things" if he discovers she's having an affair.
She is, and the coolly efficient Sun-woo has a moment of
conscience, letting the guy leave if he promises never to
return. But this decision seems to unleash the powers of
hell against him--namely a vindictive rival gang and Sun-woo's
ambitious colleague (Kim Roi-ha).
As the
film gets increasingly violent and intense, the director
maintains a dry, sardonic tone that makes the gruesome bloodletting
almost comical. The character inter-reactions are sharply
witty and timed to perfection, and the fight scenes show
true inventiveness that never undermines the realism (unlike
most Hollywood studio fight choreography). It's all so believable
that we find ourselves drawn into Sun-woo's absurd situation.
Performances
are equally realistic, layering world-weariness with tenacious
arrogance. These people are so sure of themselves that they'd
rather fight to the death than admit they might be wrong.
And even when they should lie down and die of their injuries,
they keep going. Kim uses everything he can think of (hair,
costumes, glasses, sheer attitude) to make sure we know
exactly who each character is from scene to scene. Even
when he springs a mystery man (Moon) on us near the finale,
we know this is someone from outside the gang world.
This
is thrillingly entertaining cinema--gripping, ingenious,
moving. When Sun-woo's world implodes due to a moment of
emotional empathy, we find ourselves locked with him as
the situation escalates beyond all sense of reason. Kim
takes a few unnecessary sideroads in the final act, so the
film feels overlong and a bit muddled at the very end. But
as Sun-woo's quest for vengeance (or justice) inevitably
leads to a surreal apocalypse, he beautifully pushes home
the central theme of suppressed, unreachable dreams.