Life Is About Chasing And Being Chased: The Good, The Bad, The Weird (2008)

Considering that the month of May is to be devoted to westerns entirely, it should be little surprise that I will include, at some point, at least one spaghetti western, but the most recent viewing was not to be that instance.  I felt it only necessary to begin by contrasting one of the most traditional notions of a western, with one of the most unusual and revisionist westerns to date, in what has been dubbed by some to be a "kimchi" western.  Of course, this proves a double bonus for me because the film in question The Good, The Bad, The Weird, manages to be both a western and a Korean film simultaneously, therefore, making a perfect fit within the constraints of this month of specific films while also managing to allow me another viewing within my specific concern for expansion in the particulars of East Asian cinema.  The director of The Good, The Bad, The Weird, Jee-woon Kim recently received notoriety on this blog for his wonderfully absurd The Foul King and continually proves to be a diverse and engaging filmmaker, although I am not so sure that his English-language debut will prove as rewarding and intense as Chan-wook Park's Stoker.  What viewers receive in the highly engaging and action heavy adaptation (all be it, quite loose) of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly is nothing short of a simultaneous embracing of everything within the tradition of westerns, as well as a complete rejection of its traditionalist notions of periodization.  In fact, it is quite impossible to tell whether the film and its narrative exists somewhere far in the past, or is simply an insanely realized dystopia loaded with some of the most vile, yet incredibly engaging individuals.  Between its decidedly modern soundtrack and use of masterful cinematic and editing techniques, The Good, The Bad, The Weird nearly bursts at the seams of the genre, but when it matters it manages to reign in its narrative beautifully, ultimately, adhering to the idea of a western film when it matters most, moving from the embracing of ultra-cool gunslingers to the stark and alienating realization that their own concerns with anonymity and indifference are exactly what will result in their being alone in their last moments of life.

As a pseudo-remake of Leone's classic spaghetti western, Kim's film centers around three distinct characters attempting to attain a map that will lead them to a treasure buried by a group of Japanese soldiers.  The Bad (Byung-hun Lee) is a ruthless, thief and assassin who pulls a cue from Johnny Cash, moving through the world of Manchuria donning black clothing and a smoldering scowl befit to set the world ablaze.  The Weird (Kang-ho Sung) is a madman whose lone wolf nature and complete indifference for social etiquette allow him to move about the landscape with an absurdly carefree attitude that seems to make him immune to death, although it is clear from early on that he harbors a rather intense past.  Finally, The Good (Woo-sung Jung) stands as a symbol of justice with his shotgun and leather trench coat, he screams out to be the epitome of the sheriff figure in the world, although, like his two rivals he possesses his own problematic selfishness, which all runs amok when the three become aware of a the previously mentioned treasure map and its seemingly endless fortunes.  However, while the three are clearly adept shooters and generally superior in every way, they are certainly not the only ones after the cherished items, confronting entire armies, motorcycle riding bandits and a gang of black market dealers along the way.  Moving through the space of Manchuria, The Good and The Weird end up begrudgingly relying on one another to assure their outpacing of the maniacal The Bad who seems perfectly willing to kill all persons who bar his path and eventual success.  It becomes clear, however, that The Bad's desire to beat the other two to the treasure has a high degree of revenge about it, so much so that he openly states his willingness to reprimand an injustice.  After a handful of wild shootouts and chases, the three meet at the point of the treasure only to discover it to be far different that suggested, resulting in them making a game out of who is to survive that ends in a truly fatal manner, while the map blows away, revealing a treasure none of them expected.

Given that the setting of The Good, The Bad, The Weird is assumed to be in an unusual western world within the context of East Asia it has a certain impossibly ethereal nature about it, which makes it seem more science fiction than western, however, tropes, which will be the manner by which I approach the films this month, nonetheless emerge.  In the case of this film everything has to do with identity and reappropriating one's past.  For The Good, it is clear that he seeks to enact his wild sense of justice upon the landscape, one that breaks laws and moral guidelines when it fits the warped idea of good he seems to have created and reflects nicely on the often ambiguous nature law has within the traditional western.  The Bad, much like The Good, is far more than his name suggests and indeed moves through the filmic space with a quest for revenge firstly, and an obtaining of riches second.  Of course, he seems willing to kill those in his path, but his silence speaks to the inability he possesses to speak to his suffering which is both unusual and traumatic.  Finally, in, as his name would suggest, bizarre contrast is The Weird, who absolutely rejects any sense of normalcy and moves through the madness of Manchuria expressly concerned with the most basic human needs and a desire to stay alive, yet it proves by the films closing to be the case that The Weird is indeed the most flawed of the three central figures, making his place within the quest for inconceivable riches one driven by his desire to clean his impure slate and return to a simpler lifestyle, one with livestock and agrarian simplicity.  The past for each of these men is both obtuse and decidedly troublesome, allowing the expansive deserts and tight alleys of the cities to serve as figurative escapes from not only the threat of death, but from their own trouble psyches.  Furthermore, given that contemporary Korean cinema is particularly concerned with deconstructing the patriarchal nature of masculinity, the film doubles as a sort of rejection of unchecked male privilege, especially in the closing moments of the film, wherein what is essentially a large scale pissing contest, results in an exceptionally defeatist end.

Key Scene:  Given that it necessarily had to borrow the famous three way shoot out, Kim manages to both do credit to Leone's directorial choice, while updating it into something newly engaging and cinematically fresh.

This is on Netflix watch instantly, drop what you are doing and watch it immediately.

You Think Wrestling Is A Show? Life Is A Show: The Foul King (2000)

I seriously dread ever having to make a top ten thursday that focuses specifically on Korean films, although it has been quite awhile since I have even composed a list of such a manner so perhaps my fear is even more centered in the concern that I will never actually be satisfied with any list upon viewing other items that fall into its categories, even with the most absurd of categories.  Regardless, I am getting back into the pace of things with Korean cinema, as I know my planned Western month and impending Bond project will invariably block time from movies that I really want to see, as opposed to ones I should be watching, or am watching happily in the name of research.  As such, I wanted to dig into the corners of Korean Cinema and find some items that I had desperately wanted to view since first being informed of their existence and while Peppermint Candy seems to be the largest gap in my Korean film viewing to date, The Foul King was another that I longed to see upon hearing about its absolutely zany plot and action oriented narrative.  My trip through the Korean filmic landscape over the past year and some change at this point has afforded me a ton of different viewing experiences, some of which, for obvious reasons, exist decidedly within the horror genre, while others of equal enjoyment found themselves entrenched within the romantic comedy realm.  However, The Foul King seems to be in a world of Korean filmmaking all its own, drawing heavy influence from the works of Seijun Suzuki, while much to my surprise using some of the filmic stylings that one can only hope helped guide Aronofsky in his methodology as it pertains to my personal favorite of his The Wrestler.  Of course, considering that it is a relatively recent Korean film, The Foul King is anything but straightforward in its narrative.  Sure it is a linear film in many aspects, but it finds itself so informed by the impossible and the cinematically evasive as to be a constantly evolving narrative whose fixations on the crumblings of masculinity and the desire for destruction as a means of escapism.  The Foul King is a film that may well have suffered from a loss on the cutting room floor, but what viewers are given in the way of social commentary is good, if not absolutely perfect.

The Foul King focuses primarily on Dae-ho (Kang-ho Song) a out-of-his-luck bank clerk, whose diminutive relationship with his boss becomes a point of contempt and disdain for all that is wrong in his life, both financially and emotionally.  When his boss oversteps his boundaries and places the young worker in a headlock, Dae-ho takes it upon himself to seek out an alternative method to fight back against the authoritative boss.  When he is turned down by a friend who does tae-kwon-do, Dae-ho finds an add for professional wrestling and realizes that such and endeavor will provide him the skills necessary to fight off his boss.  However, the trainer and head of the gym refuses to aid Dae-ho, particularly after he expresses an interest in the classic wrestler known as The Foul King who would rely on elaborate cheating method to assure victory.  Yet Dae-ho is incredibly persistent and when the gym head is forced by mafia leaders to heighten the action of his matches he agrees to take on the aspiring wrester.  During his training Dae-ho comes to realize how truly exhausting and challenging wrestling can be, even when it is fake, learning to choreograph elaborate fights, along with the methods necessary to "cheat" without getting caught.  After some bumpy roads Dae-ho finds a bit of success in the ring and eventually builds up enough of a reputation to be scheduled to fight against renowned fighter Yubiho (Su-ro Kim).  Meanwhile, Dae-ho is still finding trouble with attaining respect at work, as well as at home where his father criticizes him for being a failure, as such, Dae-ho pours everything into this fight, even though he is expected to throw the fight in the name of entertainment.  After a long drawn out fight with Yubiho, one that delves into a real brawl, Yubiho does indeed defeat Dae-ho, but not before the young wrestler has earned a new degree of self-respect and willingness to strive for more than mediocrity in his daily life, even if he still finds it hard to be fully successful in every single endeavor.

The Foul King is such a straight forward "turning a new leaf" narrative.  Dea-ho is a simple character with simple desires and the film does not at any point attempt to layer a ton of metaphor onto this quest. However, that is not to say that The Foul King is not something short o brilliant.  In fact, I was completely enamored with the film from its excellent and highly artistic opening moments and found Dae-ho to be an absolutely intriguing character.  What the film does is takes something such as the concerns, particularly in a masculine context, for workplace advancement and parallels them nicely with the issues of competition and phallic power in professional wrestling.  Dae-ho would be quite content to simply move through his unproductive life, however, when he is attacked inexplicably by his boss in the bathroom it becomes a question of his own power and authority as a male and he seeks a physical venue to challenge to oppressive force.  The latent homoeroticism of things like wrestling and contact sports, allow for the attack by Dae-ho's boss to take on a new form, and other suggestions of homosexuality as being present in an unwarranted context play into this narrative nicely.  In fact, I found myself laughing each time a wrestler was shown training at the gym, inevitably they would be show working with a punching bag that was blatantly intended to be phallic, it would be near impossible to call it anything else.  Of course, the film does not suggest that homosexuality is bad by any means, it only notes that the issue of sexual advances and exploitations based on economic means is problematic and to work against this would be the ideal.  It is also a narrative that draws a clear line between being a person with low work ethic and a person who blatantly cheats.  While neither are ideals in any sense, it is clear that Dae-ho's cheating in the ring is for show, where as Yubiho's use of steroids and violent temperament are more detrimental to the safety of his opponents and the sanctity of the sport, a fine parallel with his boss whose constant attacks are borderline assault, as opposed to well meaning reprimands for the young banker's immature behavior.

Key Scene:  It is a rare feat to have the opening shots of a movie suck me in immediately, but this is the case with The Foul King.

This film is, unfortunately, hard to come by on DVD, but is available on Netflix.  However, there appears to be about one copy in circulation so it might be awhile before you get your hands on a copy.