There are two reasons to watch Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance. The violence and the sound. Or rather, the sound and the violence.
The main character's lack of one sense drives the film, both form and function wise. Occasionally, we lose one of the two ways in which we interact with the film (sound, sight). The loss of one sense adds value to the other. It makes the normally assumed other seem all the more there. Unlike most Hollywood takes on this particular sense absence, we get a bit of a glimpse into what the absence means to the character, and not just what it means to us looking at the character as third person. What results are some very nice moments that are film using itself as a medium to one of its potentials.
This movie is well titled (english translation), but why won't become obvious until the last third of the film. The violence is a bit overwhelming, especially given the tone of the initial third. We start off thinking that maybe all planned actions will go as they should, without harm, and without significant consequence, that implied violence might only exist beyond the threshold of common sense. As plans slowly unravel, and as tragedy exerts its sometimes tender hold, we see an escalation of blood with few limits in depiction.
Mr. Park (and here I'm paraphrasing a translator's take) has stated that the violence in this film is less bloody, and less realistic (?) than that found in horror movies, or movies of other persuasion (action?). What he says is true, but in those movies we are distanced from the events via a somewhat thick veil of disbelief. Unlikely characters and unlikely events combine for a combustion that makes it easy for to be distant from the gore. While the characters in this film might be unlikely, they are drawn with the kind of SYMPATHY that allows their environs to seem more plausible (or possible). Mr. Park also stressed the elements of class struggle, although my familiarity with South Korean culture leaves me uncertain of all their applications. There certainly is a sense of have vs. have-not in the film, and this seems to reveal itself most significantly near the end.
The story may be told somewhat elliptically, so English (only) audiences beware, especially if you require the tried and true formulas that Hollywood so often provides.
The main character's lack of one sense drives the film, both form and function wise. Occasionally, we lose one of the two ways in which we interact with the film (sound, sight). The loss of one sense adds value to the other. It makes the normally assumed other seem all the more there. Unlike most Hollywood takes on this particular sense absence, we get a bit of a glimpse into what the absence means to the character, and not just what it means to us looking at the character as third person. What results are some very nice moments that are film using itself as a medium to one of its potentials.
This movie is well titled (english translation), but why won't become obvious until the last third of the film. The violence is a bit overwhelming, especially given the tone of the initial third. We start off thinking that maybe all planned actions will go as they should, without harm, and without significant consequence, that implied violence might only exist beyond the threshold of common sense. As plans slowly unravel, and as tragedy exerts its sometimes tender hold, we see an escalation of blood with few limits in depiction.
Mr. Park (and here I'm paraphrasing a translator's take) has stated that the violence in this film is less bloody, and less realistic (?) than that found in horror movies, or movies of other persuasion (action?). What he says is true, but in those movies we are distanced from the events via a somewhat thick veil of disbelief. Unlikely characters and unlikely events combine for a combustion that makes it easy for to be distant from the gore. While the characters in this film might be unlikely, they are drawn with the kind of SYMPATHY that allows their environs to seem more plausible (or possible). Mr. Park also stressed the elements of class struggle, although my familiarity with South Korean culture leaves me uncertain of all their applications. There certainly is a sense of have vs. have-not in the film, and this seems to reveal itself most significantly near the end.
The story may be told somewhat elliptically, so English (only) audiences beware, especially if you require the tried and true formulas that Hollywood so often provides.