Deja Vu: Flashback to What?

At some point during Ko Kyung-min's frightful fright flick Deja Vu, I stopped trying to figure out what was going on. I stop being worried whether the Elvis impersonator Do-sik (Jo Han-sun) was a multiple personality for real estate developer Choi Hyun-suk (Jung Kyung-ho), whether the camera-blurry-equals-hallucinations experienced by Ji-min (Nam Gyu-ri) were caused by her medication or helped by it, and even whether the missing Je-yi (Jeong Eun-Seong) was a dead deer or a dead girl. Free of those concerns, I wasn't particularly scared by office irregularities like flickering lights or an inexplicably activated copy machine; nor was I especially curious when an apartment's walls were smeared with blood. Who cares if a leading character has recently been knifed or not?! Deja Vu is a horror movie that creates a certain distancing effect that allows you to observe camera angles, sound choices, and plot points disinterestedly. Nothing matters. I suppose there's something terrifying about that.

And now for some questions: Can taking a psychotropic pills simulate symptoms in the fiancee akin to those experienced by the patient? Are all Korean professions tainted by bribes involving fat fistfuls of bills? Does every policeman (Lee Cheon-hee) secretly want to be a vigilante and have unlimited funds that would allow him to rent an extra apartment and trick it out with all sorts of surveillance equipment? Would anyone wearing high heels jump up and down on a hard drive as a way to destroy it? I agree that hit-and-run drivers should be punished but did any of the producers believe that this movie would do that particular cause justice? I'm awaiting some answers here.

A Better Tomorrow: The Beauty of Not Being Original

Art movements have their renaissances, theaters have their revivals, neighborhoods have their rebirths. But movies, movies have their remakes. As re-creations go, this is certainly the least glamorous of terms. And after watching Song Hae-sung's A Better Tomorrow, the Korean remake of John Woo's landmark film of the same name, it got me to wondering: Why do movie remakes -- also called rehashes -- get immediately stigmatized? It certainly isn't as if we generally leave most movies, commenting "How original!" Isn't it enough to come away from a movie saying, "How excellent!" That's how I felt after watching Song's A Better Tomorrow. But then I'd never seen the original.

But should I have? Would I have enjoyed the film more? And are remakes made simply as byproducts to compare to their progenitors? Is it wrong to re-make a movie because a director thinks the material might speak to a different generation or to a different culture or have something in it that now has something new to say? Should you chastise that director for not optioning a wholly new script, and instead choosing a really good story dying to be retold? When you look at the parts of the first A Better Tomorrow, it's not as if they're pioneering ideas either. We're all familiar with the story of two conflicted brothers -- one a cop (Kim Kang-woo), the other a criminal (Ju Jin-mo). We've all heard the one about the sleazy backstabber (Jo Han-sun) who rises to the top of the mob through nefarious means. We've also cheered on the anti-hero (Song Seung-heon) whose luck runs dry as he goes out in a blaze of well-amunitioned glory. Woo's script -- from which I'm assuming this draws heavily since Woo is credited as both producer and co-screenwriter -- isn't good because it's got new ideas. It's good because it's well-constructed. It makes sense to use it again.

Song's pic updates the recipe somewhat. (How much, I neither know nor care so I'll just make educated guesses.) Now the two brothers are North Korean defectors; their tough-love aunty figure (Kim Ji-yeong) runs one of those eatery tents that I've never seen outside Korean movies and scifi pics with an apocalyptic bent. Let traditionalists deride Song's remake as a retread and those who prefer this A Better Tomorrow celebrate it as a snazzy re-invention. For me, it's just a really good mafia movie tackling all the expected themes of family, betrayal, devotion, greed, redemption and respect amid a deliciously bloody fantasy of gunfire. You watch the one-man vigilantism of the righteous partner or the high-adrenaline final shootout between the self-chastising brother and the thug who's trying to kill his younger brother then tell me whether you care whether it's ever been done before. I sure don't. More likely, you'll be repeating what I wrote earlier: "Excellent! Excellent! Excellent!"