NOWHERE TO HIDE (1999), dir. Myung-Se Lee

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Overall rating: *** (out of ****)

Imagine “The French Connection” with Wong Kar-Wai and such luminaries of Japanese cinema as Seijun Suzuki and Shohei Imamura at the helm, and you’d end up with something like “Nowhere to Hide.” Although frequently over-the-top, this Korean-language thriller’s highly-stylized nature is what makes it so unique, even if one can never take it very seriously. Meanwhile, it features a terrific performance by Joong-Hoon Park as a violent slob of a cop in the Popeye Doyle tradition.

The slaying of a gangland leader puts the Homicide Division’s best detectives, Woo (Joong-Hoon) and Kim (Dong-Kun Jang), on the trail of an assassin named Sungmin (Sung-Kee Ahn). As one might expect, the two cops are yin and yang: Kim is a conventionally-handsome, introspective family man, while Woo is a blustery, mean-tempered bear of a cop whose first instinct is usually force. But saying he’s tough would be an understatement. In the film’s opening montage, Woo takes on an entire gang of hoods in a warehouse single-handedly, displaying an agility that would make Sammo Hung nod in recognition.

Writer/director Lee liberally cuts back-and forth from that pitched fight to Kim and the others from the Homicide Division, who strut around carrying metal pipes, which they use to check the air in criminals’ heads. They resemble a pack of vigilantes more than police, and that, the filmmakers seem to argue, is the reason they’re so effective at their jobs. Like many classic cop movies, success in “Nowhere to Hide” requires tossing out the proverbial rulebook and resorting to excesses like torture and beatings; however, there are blackly-humorous touches that take some sting out of the brutality (at one point, the entire division decides to beat up on a suspect, but in their unbridled enthusiasm, they trash their headquarters, too).

The subject matter has the potential to be thought-provoking, but the story occasionally gets lost amidst the hyperactive visuals. “Nowhere to Hide’s” first third is a seemingly-non-stop tumult of freeze frames, slow-motion, punk rock guitar riffs and sound-mixing straight out of a spaghetti Western. Now don’t get me wrong; the blitzkrieg of sight and sound does get the adrenaline pumping to a certain extent, which is probably Lee’s intent. My only criticism is it doesn’t ebb and flow the way, say, Kar-Wai’s equally-playful “Fallen Angels” does; rather, it talks in a steady stream of exclamation points as a Michael Bay flick might.

Luckily, once the central investigation kicks in, the visual excesses seem appropriate, what with the lengths Woo, Kim, and the others are willing to go to collar their killer. Moreover, especially during the second half, Lee actually seems to tone things down, as if realizing the performances and plot were now sufficient to maintaining his audience’s attention. The movie continues to be inventive, albeit in ways film buffs may find derivative: the occasional emphasis on powerful images over continuity, a la Suzuki; voyeuristic first-person tracking shots similar to Imamura.

Although “Nowhere to Hide” concerns the Homicide Division as opposed to narcotics, like “The French Connection,” the plot involves surveillance and pursuit (including a memorable set piece involving a train) and cops who play close to the edge. Detective Woo has the same distinctive hat-wear and smile suggesting a punch to the face that Gene Hackman packed, and once the film races to its conclusion, it leans more heavily on Joong-Hoon, who conveys surprising depths to this unapologetic thug. As he explains to a beautiful co-conspirator (Ji-Woo Choi) of Sugmin’s whom they hope to bring around to their side, he knows his job, and that’s nailing the bad guy by any means necessary.

Woo is so convincing at not being self-delusional that the denouement – one of those “waiting by the side of the road, hoping for the woman whose boyfriend you just served justice to will give you the time of day” shots, seemingly borrowed from “The Third Man” – is rather poignant.

J.S.A.: JOINT SECURITY AREA (2001), dir. Chan-wook Park

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This 2001 Chan-wook Park thriller exploits the ongoing tension between North and South Korea, one nation divided since the 1940's. For those (like me) without prior knowledge of the Korean peninsula's current political climate, North equals “Commie,” while South equals “Yankee,” and “Yankees” and “Commies” don’t like each other, as anyone living during the 1970’s and 80’s can tell you. In an attempt to simplify the politics in the peninsula for viewers outside of Asia, the screenwriters have characters yell things like “Commie bastard!” and “Yankee puppet!” repeatedly at each other, as if either phrase could embody their complex feelings. I’m ashamed to say the ploy works.

Actually, it’s a blessing not having to dwell on the politics that have shaped the geographical powder keg that is Korea, especially since “J.S.A.” tells a mystery in complex, “Rashomon”-style format. The title refers to the “Joint Security Area,” the American-occupied territory between the two countries, which belongs neither to the north, nor the south. One night, gunfire is heard on the northern side of the J.S.A., and a South Korean sergeant named Lee staggers across a foot bridge, back to the southern side, just as troops from both armies gather and an incident results. When an investigator from the Neutral Nations Security Council (N.N.S.C.) arrives to get facts, and calm what threatens to become a provocation for war, she gets conflicting stories from both sides. Along with being different, both "official reports" sound highly unlikely.

According to the report from Lee, North Korean soldiers slipped across the J.S.A. and kidnapped him. They took him back across the border, and held him hostage until he broke loose, then killed two of his abductors. Meanwhile, the report by Sergeant Oh of the North Korean army states that Lee crossed into enemy territory of his own volition, then acted out of cold blood, wounding Sergeant Oh and killing two of his comrades. Like “Rashomon,” or movies heavily-influenced by the Kurosawa film, such as “Courage Under Fire" and “Hero,” the mystery of what happened north of the “J.S.A.” is gradually unraveled. As each new tidbit of information is introduced, pivotal scenes are shown again, in light of what N.N.S.C. Inspector Sophie Jean, and the audience, are now aware of. Ultimately, the truth is more complicated than either “official story” we had been given. Nevertheless, it all fits together in a logical and believable way.

Like the more successful "Rashomon" clones over the years, the flashback technique helps tell the story in a manner that builds and sustains suspense. Meanwhile, "J.S.A." also allows an important window into how South Koreans view their brothers to the north, showing the strong reunification urge that pervades the region. Indeed, despite their duties to their respective nations, the soldiers on both sides eventually start crossing the J.S.A. to exchange pleasantries and learn more about one another, and their burgeoning friendship is portrayed downright idyllically, almost like children playing. Sure, Chanwook Park’s film seems to ignore the possible negative consequences of the two countries becoming one again (specifically, if it occurs under the flag of North Korean dictator Kim Jong-Il, whose regime has been condemned by the American president), but its overriding message, about the tragedy of one people turned against itself due to borders and nationalism, is highly potent.

Also potent: Park’s directing style, a mixture of sleek cinematography and MTV-ish editing that propels the story along. While Park has had greater international success with his 2003 revenge flick “Oldboy,” this older film has less of an S&M edge, even if it retains some of his recognizable black humor (at one point, the image of a character moving in slow-motion flips upside-down to reveal he's falling, which has the same effect of surprise on the viewer as it would on the protagonists). Finally, whereas “Oldboy” was intense, psychological, and occasionally weird, “J.S.A.” is more of a standard drama, requiring Park to do what he can to make conventional scenes visually-interesting. He manages to nimbly direct a sequence where Lee’s rescue team attempts to suppress the North Koreans while retrieving him from a footbridge. The battle culminates in one of those shots you can’t help remembering afterward: the camera looking down on Lee from overhead, then slowly panning back as bullets whiz back-and-forth.

Park uses the overhead crane shot several times at the border—above the actual line that is supposed to separate the north from the south. Framed this way, it looks like a very thin divider, very unimpressive. Could this be Park’s way of pointing out the ridiculousness of the line itself, that a strip of paint on the ground cannot determine the fate of an entire people? And wouldn’t he have a point? Not that reunification should happen the way the world is now, but let’s face it, when a flimsy line is all that stands between two peoples itching to cross it, isn’t reconciliation inevitable?

Overall rating: *** (out of ****)

OLDBOY (2003), dir. Chan-wook Park

South Korean "Payback" Gives Decent Payoff

The main thing that sets "Oldboy" apart from other revenge movies is that the villain goes to great lengths to keep the main character alive. He does this on purpose, of course. Death, after all, brings about immediate release from pain and suffering. The bad guy in "Oldboy" doesn’t want Dae-su Oh (Min-sik Choy), the middle-aged businessman he has kidnapped, to get off that easily.

Dae-su Oh disappears one dark and stormy night, just after he steps away from a pay phone. His abductors lock him up inside what looks like a hotel room. There is a bed, as well as a shower and television. However, the room has no windows, and the door looks like it belongs on a cell for prisoners in solitary confinement. It’s made of metal, locked from the outside, and has a slot at the bottom. Dae-su Oh’s abductors regularly slide him his food through the gap.

No one will tell Dae-su Oh why he has been imprisoned, or when he can hope for release. Left in near-total isolation, his only connection to the outside world is the television. This becomes problematic when news flashes start reporting that Dae-su Oh’s wife has been brutally murdered, and that he is the prime suspect. In a creepy tracking shot that circles around his head, we see ants emerging from underneath his skin, and swarming about his face. It seems like an apt visual metaphor—the character’s fear, rage, and creepy loneliness literally devouring him from the inside-out. Dae-su Oh is never the same from this point on. Though his thoughts continue to be expressed in lucid voiceover, we get the feeling that some part of the man has died.

Dae-su Oh continues to be caged like an animal for the next fifteen years. In the interval, his once neatly-cut hair grows long, and his face, having grown sad eyes as well as a lean and hungry look, resembles a lupine under exhibition in a zoo. This contrasting of man with animal is even more fitting after the control room of Dae-su Oh’s "prison" is revealed. From this makeshift nerve center, an office that includes a bank of television monitors, Dae-su Oh’s captors, like dedicated zookeepers, keep a watchful eye over the specimens in their menagerie.

Granted, there is something wild and uncouth about Dae-su Oh from the very beginning. In the first sequence of the movie, he fights with police officers at the station where he has been detained. He attempts to "mark his territory" in the middle of booking, and makes a rude gesture upon being released. After finally escaping his prison (Actually, he wakes up to find himself mysteriously delivered to a building rooftop), he becomes like a wild animal set free from his cage. Initially overwhelmed by his newfound freedom, Dae-su Oh soon becomes hellbent on finding those responsible for his suffering, and making them pay dearly. Since Dae-su Oh has been framed for the murder of his wife, he must act as a vigilante. Before he begins doing that, however, he visits a nearby sushi bar, where he devours a still-moving octopus to satisfy his desire to eat something alive (The act of eating live flesh can be viewed as Dae-su Oh's first step towards returning to his pre-captivity state).

After lapsing out of consciousness, Dae-su Oh awakens to Mi-do (Hye-jeong Kang), a young teenage girl who took him home from the sushi bar. She wants to read the journals he had been keeping while imprisoned, but Dae-su Oh snatches them away, hoarding them like some kind of pack rat. Having been removed from human contact for so long, women now cause him great anxiety. This doesn’t stop him from trying to rape Mi-do in the bathroom. Luckily, she accepts his explanation that these urges are simply beyond his control.

Of course, Dae-su Oh’s animal urges go beyond the primal need to fuck. He has had fifteen years to foment a craven bloodlust towards whoever had him kidnapped. Having made his body stronger during his time in captivity, Dae-su Oh’s rage has become combined with the agility and ferociousness of a jungle cat. As a result, he doesn’t just stab, bludgeon, and torture the parties who participated in his degradation, or who can provide him with clues about the enemy’s identity. Dae-su Oh relishes the prospect of violence. "Oldboy" is a movie full of carnage, much of it messy, some of it difficult to watch. Director Chan-wook Park films using only light sources in the background, which give the picture an ugly sheen that only complements the ugly behavior.

But Park also introduces a novel idea during the second half of the movie. Just when we have Dae-su Oh pegged as the baddest animal in the concrete jungle, there arrives an even deadlier specimen: the very man our anti-hero has been trying to track down. Woo-jin Lee (Ji-tae Yu), it turns out, has been nursing a grudge against Dae-su Oh that makes the latter’s fifteen years in solitary look like grains in the hourglass. A sneering ghoul of a man, hate has devoured Woo-Jin whole. All that remains is a cold smile and scheming intelligence. It's doubtful he ever met a revenge formula he would consider too elaborate.

Inevitably, Dae-su Oh meets Woo-jin Lee face-to-face. One of them turns out to have an ace up his sleeve, a revelation so shocking and twisted, his opponent is left speechless. Initially, I dismissed the twist ending as a case of a screenwriter simply piling stuff on. But upon further reflection, it's not so implausible, given how deep the character's hate for his counterpart runs. He would have had plenty of time to refine the grand strategem gestating in his brain. And since these are animals mixing it up, not men, isn’t it fitting that cunning and ruthlessness, as opposed to the righteousness of one’s cause, are what decide ultimate victory? Just like in the real jungle.

"Though I am no better than a beast, do I not have the right to be happy…?"

A line repeated more than once in the movie, it takes on a surprising poignancy, and hints at man's hope of transcending his own animal instincts.

Both Dae-su Oh and Woo-jin Lee have behaved in beastly ways to people. The former has a list of enemies long enough to fill a composition notebook, while the latter has inflicted unspeakable harm on Dae-su Oh and his loved ones. If a key difference exists between these two men, however, it’s that one of them owns up to the unspeakable acts he has committed, and in admitting his own culpability, finds forgiveness and inner peace. His counterpart does not. To the bitter end, he blames his years of suffering entirely on his nemesis. He exonerates his own bestial instincts of any role they might have played in a past tragedy.

As a result, even after the smoke clears, after he has stood victorious over his enemy, he still can find no peace. No amount of retribution can take away the pain. No amount of suffering on the part of his nemesis can bring back what was lost. Here is a man so dedicated to the destruction of his enemy that, with the enemy vanquished, he loses all purpose. Imprisoned by his own bestial instincts and behavior, he can aspire to no higher emotions. All that is left for him to do is wander off somewhere, and die in solitude, like a dog.

Overall rating: ***1/2 (out of ****)