A Triangular Trap: Men Are Mean

The men are universally pigs in the more-or-less misanthropic A Triangular Trap. Ugly pigs. Vile pigs. Run-of-the-mill pigs. The stalker who rapes fashion designer Choe Ji-suk (Mun Suk) — then holds her hostage for months so she'll have his baby... He's certainly a pig. So is the diabolically double-crossing self-defense instructor she's dating, despite his having saved her from a random thug with damaged lips. As for the family lawyer, he's shockingly indifferent when she recounts her life-changing trauma. Your "not all men are bad" argument will fall on deaf ears here; that one friendly neighbor is a case of the exception that proves the rule.

Not that the women come off smelling like roses in Lee Man-hui's stylishly '70s crime pic. A sister of the traveling caftan this is not. Choe Ji-suk's customers and co-workers look at her as a source of gossip and sartorial inspiration. And don't tell me the maid is a good person either, simply for doing her job well; she also spreads superstition and condemns her mistress for accepting the family inheritance. No, with jerks and Judge Judys everywhere, our heroine has two choices should she survive the attacks on her body and character: to deteriorate or to retaliate. In A Triangular Trap, she does a bit of both, taking breaks periodically to play a flamenco guitar.

Sopyonje: Troubadours in Trouble

An homage to a poor family of pansori singers, Im Kwon-taek's Sopyonje sure pays attention to the period details: the corsetting under a man's shirt; the caretaking of a traditional buk drumskin; the proper position assumed by a gonsu, the artform's requisite percussionist. It also passes on the classic generalities attached to musicians of many genres: a blind young chanteuse who feels more deeply; a woman who kills herself for a talented performer; two squabbling, competitive vocalists who drink in excess while flanked by flirtatious groupies.

Sopyonje's anti-hero is the irasicible pansori artist Youbong (Kim Myung-gon, who also wrote the screenplay!). A master musician banished from the troupe which schooled him and now raising two children — one his by birthright; the other, by fate — he's prepping the new generation to carry on the venerable art and inspire a lot of enjoyable incidental dancing from those who listen. But this is back in the days when artists get no respect: "Just because I sing, it doesn't mean that I'm low in stature." That's poorly translated but I didn't write these subtitles. You get the gist.

A Young Zelkova: Romance With Simple Shadows

Was color film really an advancement? Generally speaking, black-and-white movies are consistently more visually arresting. The images tend to be more focused, and the interplay of shadow and light inherently comes into play. And since the monochromatic aspect automatically feels archival, the picture itself feels like a piece of history. Because of that, A Young Zelkova overcomes its corniness and its outdated morality through the gravity of grayscale. For much of Lee Seong-gu's melodrama, conflict looks to be in short supply.

When Suk-hee (Moon Hee) travels to the city to attend Cheonwu Women's University, she leaves her grandparents behind to live with her remarried mother (Joo Jeong-ryeo), her stepdad-professor (Park Am), and her new stepbrother (Shin Sung-il) whose single, handsome, smart, and romantic. The rival (Yoon Yang Ha) for her heart presents no real danger to their happily ever after. Nor do a trio of bike accidents: one when they meet cute; one when he gives a lift to a young friend (Ahn Sung-ki), and one when he teaches her how to ride a two-wheeler on a nearby tennis court. What does threaten their future are societal expectations. You see, you're not supposed to fall for a sibling whether he's a blood relation or not.

The Classroom of Youth: She Loves Him, Loathes Him, Loves Him

The script of The Classroom of Youth is certainly quotable.

"I scanned the crotch first every time time the three of you were born."

"In every respect, I should be the first to taste a man."

"Gangsters use violence regardless of gender."

"When I'm with you, I get electric sparks in my body."

"I'd rather play chest with Ghengis Khan in Hell."

"Let's be eternal bachelors like Jesus Christ."

"Run around naked and then get hit by lightning and die!"

This curious rom-com about a sweet, reckless bastard (Shin Sung-il) who falls hard for a frugal goody two-shoes (Um Aing-ran) has unforgettable plot points throughout, too: a shameless crossdressing episode, a kissing raffle with alcohol wipes, a hair-focused fashion show, a sisterly wrestling match, and a staged double suicide at seas. Director Kim Soo-yong (Seashore Village), aims for an unlikely upbeat ending and oddly enough, the man pulls it off. Good stuff!

Search Out: Fried-Chicken Mind-Control

A social media influencer as the hero of a bleak thriller? Who didn't see this one coming? And so we have Search Out, Kwak Jung's bizarre, feel-good mystery about an internet do-gooder (Kim Sung-cheol) who lives nextdoor to a suicide victim whom he might've helped but didn't. Except it's not a suicide. Our hero knows that. So does his best-buddy/morale-booster (Lee Si-eon). What they don't know is the insanity they're about to release by making the murder public.

The key to their success is the moonlighting, ultracool tech wizard (Heo Ga-yoon, formerly of the girl group 4Minute) who quickly uncovers they've got a serial killer on their hands. And not just any serial killer but one who uses psychological control to drive people on a social networking servie to kill themselves. Interestingly, the movie posits that the truest friendships emerge in real time and a shared physical space and not online at all. One of them is probably going to get badly hurt, and while you know which one, it's scary nevertheless. Who's evil? The cops, fast food corporations, the medical establishment... Thankfully, those who study hard survive.