March 31, 2013
March 27, 2013
It's also stylishly executed. Spirit-world POVs show a world robbed of subtlety and detail; well-choreographed crowd scenes are shot from above a la Busby Berkley; even the artwork in the collage-filled diary which Hyo-shin keeps and Min-ah devours is lovely to look at. (The film snagged a cinematography award at Slamdance for a reason.)
Art house accomplishments aside, Memento Mori freaks because Kim Gyu-ri's such a fidgety, tormented, slack-jawed mess. You'll be torn between finding her acting horrendous and completely appropriate. How would you act if you'd found a magic journal with a secret transformation pill, an envelope of powdered poison, and a hidden mirror that led to your soul being snatched away by the memoirist. Of course, you'd be a total wreck. I suspect the movie's two writer-directors Kim Tae-yong and Min Kyu-dong were constantly giving their little leading lady conflicting instructions/feedback to keep her perpetually disoriented. Nicely done!
March 25, 2013
The American Dream doesn't always happen in America. Sometimes, it happens in North Korea. In one of the more bizarre examples of truth being stranger than fiction, Crossing the Line tells the real story of PFC James Dresnok, a soldier who defected from the United States military to North Korea in the 1960s. He wasn't the only one to do so either. One of four soldiers who ditched Uncle Sam for Kim Il Sung, Dresnok truly lived out a weird rags-to-riches fantasy, a man who grewing up an orphan then ended up a movie star, albeit one typecast as "white-faced devil" for the duration of his big screen career.
As for his co-stars and fellow defectors -- Pvt. Larry Allen Abshier, Specialist Jerry Wayne Parrish, and Sgt. Charles Robert Jenkins -- they too became tools/trumpets of the country's propaganda machine (which included a magazine entitled Fortune's Favorites that featured the foursome having a good old time across the border). Whether they all came to revere their adopted homeland as much as Dresnok is anyone's guess. Parrish and Abshier died before Crossing the Line was released and Jenkins' condemnation of the fascist government may have been a pre-condition to being granted citizenship by Japan where he fled to join his Japanese wife, who claims herself to have been abducted to become his bride.
What is clear is that Dresnok has brought an immigrant's traditional values with him, wishing nothing better than to see his children get a better education than he did and taking pride in having carved out a decent living for himself. There's something sweet about that, even if the way it's done seem utterly preposterous. But would you expect anything less than pure craziness from a documentary narrated by Hollywood kook Christian Slater. Crossing the Line is actually the third in a series of North Korean documentaries which include The Game of Their Lives (about the World Cup team that went to the quarterfinals in 1966) and A State of Mind (about two girl gymnasts). Based on Crossing the Line, I'd see either.
March 9, 2013
I also suspect that the above trade school also offers workshops in screenwriting. Classes last an hour but at the end of that 60 minutes, each student has a finished screenplay in his or her hands. (Revisions are highly discouraged.) And from the looks of The Korean Connection, one workshop's star pupil Yu Dong-hun has kept his tale simple with plenty of stage directions that begin "Start fighting here." What happens between those fights is that young gangster Tiger (Han Yong-cheol) must find a way to redeem himself after being part of a crime that led to the death of his girlfriend's brother. Drowning in drink, he's approached by two patriots who need his assistance to retrieve some government papers. Such a daring act will rehabilitate his reputation and save the nation. A lot of karate chops are required to get there though.
To its credit, The Korean Connection focuses on fighting, not talking. Tiger and his best buddy, who sports an argyle sweater vest and long bushy sideburns, fight bad guys in bars, in basements, and on bridges. You never doubt that they'll overthrow deranged mobster Yamamoto but it's fun to see them kick and punch their way to a shared goal. Considering the ingenious scene on the bridge in which Tiger walks then fights a crowd then walks then fights more of the crowd, it's hard to give this movie less than a B. Grading standards aren't that strict at this Jersey City university. Nor should they be.
March 2, 2013
Where does The Berlin File go wrong? Part of the problem may be that the star lineup is so lopsided. Despite its bilingual dreams, the only familiar faces (to someone who knows both Korean and American cinema) are the Korean ones. So while you've got Ha Jung-woo (The Chaser), Jun Gianna (My Sassy Girl) and Han Suk-kyu (Green Fish) on one side, the Europeans and Americans populating this Berlin are all no-namers. Personally, I think the addition of a Skeet Ulrich or a Joe Morton would've gone a long way to generate international appeal.
Especially when you consider the stilted delivery of the English dialogue by most of the Koreans here. Lines are uttered like memorized sounds, not words never mind sentences. And let's face it: A convoluted plot about terrorism needs to be said with conviction. With the exception of Ryu Seung-beom (who appears to be relishing his role as a villain after years of playing comic cutie), the other Korean actors only appear at ease when speaking their native tongue. (That might be a problem for that aforementioned trailer!)
That said, I respect The Berlin File's aim. How crazy is it that despite Korea being a powerhouse in world cinema for a decade, it still has yet to garner a single Oscar nomination for best foreign film. What needs to happen to generate that level of respect? Kim Ki-duk's Pieta snagged the top prize at Venice in 2012. Let's hope American laurels lie ahead.