Masterstroke
Park Chan-wook returns to his deliciously bleak, giant middle finger roots, with less gore but way more finesse – if that’s possible.
decision to Leave
Director: Park Chan-wook • Writers: Park Chan-wook, Jung Seo-kyoung
Starring: Tang Wei, Park Hae-il, Go Kyoung-pyo, Jeong So-ri, Lee Jung-hyun, Kim Shin-young, Yoo Seung-mok, Park Yong-woo, Seo Hyun-woo, Kim Do-yeon
South Korea • 2hrs 18mins
Opens Hong Kong July 21 • IIB
Grade: A
It’s a beautiful thing when a filmmaker displays the kind of technical mastery that Korean director Park Chan-wook does in Decision to Leave | 헤어질 결심. Park won the Prix de la mise en scène (best director) at Cannes for his efforts – rightly so – and it would be easy to claim he was showboating, or putting style above substance, or leaning on Film School 101 textbook construction. And anyone making those arguments is just spewing sour grapes, because Decision to Leave is Film School 401-Advanced, and Park is a filmmaker firing on all cylinders – and maybe a few of yours.
The last time Park blessed us with a feature was 2016’s period lesbian revenge drama The Handmaiden – kind of a Bound for occupied Korea – a lush and feverish pseudo-experiment considering the setting. Park is nothing if not contemporary, and at the time The Handmaiden was the most recent in a series of departures from his Revenge Trilogy calling card, along with Thirst and the English-language Stoker. He continues that decidedly less bloody trend here. Is it a sign he’s growing up? Maybe. Has he committed to creating less gory art in his “old” age? Perhaps. But it’s irrelevant when the end product is such a visual, formal and narrative treat. Declaring Park has peaked as an artist is premature but it’s going to be hard even for him to top Decision to Leave.
How did Park make vertical lines thrilling?
In one of 2022’s best films so far, an insomniac, overly-impressed-with-himself Busan detective, Hae-jun (Park Hae-il, The Host, Ode to the Goose) begins an investigation into the falling death of random rich dude Ki Do-soo (Yoo Seung-mok), but resists looking into the dead man’s much younger wife, Seo-rae (Tang Wei). As it’s always the spouse, Hae-jun’s partners, chiefly Soo-won (Go Kyoung-pyo), can’t figure out why he’s so reluctant to dig into her as a suspect. No surprise, Hae-jun is bewitched by the retiring Chinese immigrant who works as an elderly caregiver and struggles to communicate. As the case drags on, Soo-won becomes more frustrated, Hae-jun becomes more enchanted and Seo-rae becomes even more enigmatic – and possibly homicidal. The story repeats after the stress of the investigation sends Hae-jun to work in a sleepy provincial town near his wife Jung-an’s (Lee Jung-hyun) job at a nuclear plant – and where he runs into Seo-rae and her shady new husband, Ho-shin (Park Yong-woo). Saying much more will only spoil the pleasure that comes from watching Park’s absolute mastery over his material, from minute one all the way to the devastating closing shots.
Decision to Leave is one part neo-noir detective thriller (as filtered through Park’s ornery eye) and one part twisted romance, laced with wry, low-key comedy and Sirkian melodrama that somehow do not add up to a hot mess. In Park’s hands they add up to an elegantly restrained examination of desire, obsession and violence (some things don’t change) told with an attention to detail that creates a vivid, almost palpable sense of people and place. Park and co-writer Jung Seo-kyoung revel in the turns the story takes, and how the fully fleshed out characters respond. They’re helped along by a cast that’s vibing in perfect sync with Park. Park Hae-il pitches his fussy cop just this side of smackable – he fancies himself a poet – whose arrogance is his undoing, and Tang is effortlessly mysterious without being opaque. You don’t know where she stands until the (perfect) final moments. The stealth star, though, might be comedian Kim Shin-young as Hae-jun’s second partner Yeon-su, who’s as baffled by Hae-jun’s vendetta against Seo-rae as Soo-won was his apathy towards her.
Not quite sizzling chemistry, but close
A boat load of credit must go to editor Kim Sang-bum, Park’s go-to cutter and a veteran with a filmography that includes early Korean Wave thriller Tell Me Something, The Man from Nowhere and The Spy Gone North. Kim provided the steady hand that ensured Park’s visual language made sense and his ambitious aesthetic was realised coherently. The matching eyelines alone are a marvel and a turn signal was never so portentous. But Kim isn’t the only technician that went above and way beyond: production designer Ryu Seong-hie’s impeccable, buttoned up spaces, cinematographer Kim Ji-young’s stunning geometric imagery (that overhead shot on the causeway? Frame a still!) and Cho Young-wuk’s all-over-the-map score did as much heavy lifting as Tang and Park (even if they don’t smoulder quite the way Tang and Tony Leung Chiu-wai did in Lust, Caution). The craft elements slotted together with a satisfying, proverbial “click” and really truly demonstrated the collaborative nature of filmmaking. Oh my god, this film is making me geek out. And in contrast to Christopher Nolan’s bullshit excuse about the middling Tenet “needing” to be seen twice to “get it” – that’s not how it works, Nolan – Decision to Leave will reward second or third or thirtieth viewings because there’s just so much on the canvass; there’s so much to appreciate. A different perspective will birth different responses, a fresh interpretation or a simple “Aha!” every time – though once provides a complete viewing experience in itself if that’s the way you roll. That’s how it works, Nolan. — DEK