Emergency Declaration: Airborne Virus

What do you look for in disaster movies? A single, superhuman savior? A diabolical villain who doesn't get killed 'til the very end? A populace rallying to support the surviving victims desperately trying to survive? Han Jae-rim's heartstopping Emergency Declaration has none of these components. Who cares? From its opening scenes, this one's a nail-biter. Credit Im Si-wan as a terrorist with a high creep factor. Once you've seen him stitch poison capsules into his body in the airport bathroom, you know this guy's major trouble! Credit Lee Byung-hun as a divorced dad trying to remove the stigma from eczema. How fortunate this man's got a history as a heroic pilot. Credit Song Kang-ho as a detective who'll go to any extreme to bring his wife home to safety. When isn't this actor great?

Oh yes. Everyone's in top form in this movie which also defies expectations by creating a believable narrative in which collective self-sacrifice feels noble but not far-fetched. Running at 2 hours and 21 minutes, Emergency Declaration isn't a slow-burn but more like a brush fire that keeps getting bigger and bigger and scarier. Block out some time to watch it. You're not going to want to hit the pause button.

The King: A Royal Pain in the Ear

If I were in a generous frame of mind, I would say that Han Jae-rim's The King was fashioned in the spirit of Citizen Kane with its prolonged opening monologue or was nodding to early Korean films like Crossroads of Youth, which — though silent — were often screened with a byeonsa (a live storyteller) who supplied narration and dialogue in real-time. But to elevate Han's movie with such associations would be dishonest because The King ultimately comes across as an inexplicably recorded film treatment that's been provided with high-glam accompanying visuals. At least 80 percent of the time, we're forced to listen to lead character, corrupt attorney Park Tae-Soo (Jo In-sung), as he jabbers on and on about his career while Kim Woo-hyung's luxe cinematography attempts to make up for the lack of dialogue via gorgeous images. There's not a scene that isn't gloriously shot, even when the action gets downright nasty. (You may be forgiven for closing your eyes when the rabid dogs eat men alive.)

I'm not sure Han is entirely to blame for the film's failure though. What's also missing is a riveting performance at its center. Whereas Han's earlier (and much better) The Show Must Go On was grounded by the eternally impeccable Song Kang-ho as a mobster consumed by work, The King has at its center a cypher: one well-dressed but underdeveloped lawyer who registers more as lost than conflicted. He's neither as intriguing as his nemesis — and boss — Han-Kang Sik (Jung Woo-sung) nor as inherently likable and dynamic as his sidekick and lackey Doo-il (Ryu Jun-Yeol). And since neither of these guys talk nearly as much as Tae-soo, we're constantly resenting a soundtrack monolopolized by an anti-hero who turns into antimatter right before our very eyes.

The Show Must Go On: A Thug's Life

The Show Must Go On is definitive proof that Song Kang-ho is one of the greatest actors of his generation. It's a fantastic mob movie that, because of Song, plumbs unusual depths, too. What makes Song such a genius performer? Well, this may sound like a funny place to start but I don't believe there's another actor who can play sleepy (or mine it for its comic possibilities) as well as Song can. And there's something about all the correlatives that go with sleepiness -- overworked, overanxious, overburdened, overwhelmed -- that strike me as emblematic of our times. In The Show Must Go On, Song's putting that somnolent skillset to good use as an overextended mobster who is so sleep-deprived that he conks out repeatedly -- including at the driver's wheel of his car in the midst of a noisy rush hour.

Not one to rest on his laurels, Song's also a master of drunkenness, too, which when you think about it, is simply a gateway to sleep. But look at the variety of intoxications that Song can do: He's funny drunk, nasty drunk, sloppy drunk, violent drunk and, in one awfully humiliating interaction between his character and his character's daughter (Kim So-eun) -- who has him arrested for disorderly conduct -- contritely drunk. Song can make reprehensibly sloppy behavior consistently sympathetic. Naturally, Song can do much more than drowsiness and drunkenness. But whatever he does, this actor always feels like he's doing it right on the spot. Maybe that's why his drunken and drowsy scenes are so impressive. Both states give way to irrational behavior that's abnormal but still firmly rooted in who we intrinsically are. If you think that Song can only do showy stuff then re-watch his married mobster here when he turns on the charm for his wife (Park Ji-yeong), a woman who's got wise to his ways and wants out. Who else can mix lightness and desperation so effectively? How in the world did he do that? What'll he dream up next? I'm always ready to see.