
The Wailing (18)
Directed by Hong-jin Na.
Starring Do-won Kwak, Jun Kunimura, Jeong-min Hwang, Woo-hee Chun, So-yeon Jang and Han-Cheol Jo. 156 mins
Wailing is the title, the name of the location and the primary form of expression in this faintly hysterical exploration of the nature of evil. Set in Goksung, a decrepit, small, rainy Korean town, the film opens with the discovery of a gruesome multiple homicide and just keeps getting more and more fevered, piling on plagues of boils, demons, zombies, mad dogs, shamen and any number of biblical references. The screams come fast and furious in this town called Wailing.
When a series of horrific murder/ suicides begin to occur in Goksung, local rumour suspects that a mysterious Japanese man (Kunimura) is behind them. An inept and lazy police officer (Do-won Kwak), a man who will stop to have breakfast before heading off to a crime scene, becomes increasingly drawn into the mystery when his young daughter seems to become possessed by an evil spirit. Poor old Goksung is like a downbeat Midsomer Exorcist.
As in Yellow Sea and The Chaser, Hong-jin Na shows himself to be an immensely skilled filmmaker. The sense of oppressive evil is ferociously sustained for the whole two and a half hours. The narrative crux is about deciding what to believe in, what to have faith in, the difficulty of which is emphasised by shooting the film in such a way that often you are not quite sure what you have just seen or even what exactly is there right in front of you. Particularly effective is a percussive banging effect that becomes a near constant, but unexplained part of the soundtrack, but is tapping out a clue to understanding the film.
The Wailing is a film that you need to watch with very close attention to detail (or twice) to get a proper grip on, and even then there will be plenty of discussion about what it all meant and what really happened. Or maybe you might decide that, however impressively (over)wrought it is, it is all just so much nonsense, that a world view that goes all the way from mumbo to jumbo isn't worth any more thought. And if there is a hell, a special layer should be reserved for directors who make movies about traumatised or possessed children.
Directed by Hong-jin Na.
Starring Do-won Kwak, Jun Kunimura, Jeong-min Hwang, Woo-hee Chun, So-yeon Jang and Han-Cheol Jo. 156 mins
Wailing is the title, the name of the location and the primary form of expression in this faintly hysterical exploration of the nature of evil. Set in Goksung, a decrepit, small, rainy Korean town, the film opens with the discovery of a gruesome multiple homicide and just keeps getting more and more fevered, piling on plagues of boils, demons, zombies, mad dogs, shamen and any number of biblical references. The screams come fast and furious in this town called Wailing.
When a series of horrific murder/ suicides begin to occur in Goksung, local rumour suspects that a mysterious Japanese man (Kunimura) is behind them. An inept and lazy police officer (Do-won Kwak), a man who will stop to have breakfast before heading off to a crime scene, becomes increasingly drawn into the mystery when his young daughter seems to become possessed by an evil spirit. Poor old Goksung is like a downbeat Midsomer Exorcist.
As in Yellow Sea and The Chaser, Hong-jin Na shows himself to be an immensely skilled filmmaker. The sense of oppressive evil is ferociously sustained for the whole two and a half hours. The narrative crux is about deciding what to believe in, what to have faith in, the difficulty of which is emphasised by shooting the film in such a way that often you are not quite sure what you have just seen or even what exactly is there right in front of you. Particularly effective is a percussive banging effect that becomes a near constant, but unexplained part of the soundtrack, but is tapping out a clue to understanding the film.
The Wailing is a film that you need to watch with very close attention to detail (or twice) to get a proper grip on, and even then there will be plenty of discussion about what it all meant and what really happened. Or maybe you might decide that, however impressively (over)wrought it is, it is all just so much nonsense, that a world view that goes all the way from mumbo to jumbo isn't worth any more thought. And if there is a hell, a special layer should be reserved for directors who make movies about traumatised or possessed children.