Sympathy For Lady Vengeance (친절한 금자씨) -- Review

When I read last year that the English title for Park Chan-Wook's next picture was Sympathy For Lady Vengeance, I cringed a little. It's not exactly the most creative of titles, given that the first film in his vengeance trilogy was titled, in English, Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance (not a very good title, in my opinion; I think Vengeance Is Mine, or some other close translation of the Korean title, 복수는 나의것, would have been better. Similarly, I think the new film should have been titled either Kind-Hearted Geum-Ja or Our Sweet Geum-Ja). I worried that Park was perhaps going back to the well, making a movie that didn't need to be made. After Mr. Vengeance and Oldboy, was there really anything left for him to say? It appears there is. Even though the film at times seems too much like a hodge-podge of ideas from the previous two films (Protagonist who is wrongly imprisoned? Check. Kidnappings? Check. Adopted daughter living abroad? Check. Abandoned school? Check. Ghost of a dead child? Check. Cameos by most of the last 2 films' stars? Double check. I was sorta disappointed that there were no references to ants, though) Park's message -- and what separates it from the previous two -- is the stronger emphasis that revenge offers no closure, it only creates further spiritual torment. The movie, similar to Oldboy, ends with a subtle hint of hope mixed in with the despair; and, like Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance, it reminds us that in vengeance there can only be losers. But instead of the ruthless and tragic revenge seekers of Mr. Vengeance and Oh Dae-Su's monstrous embodiment of vengeance in Oldboy, Lady Vengeance offers us Park's first truly remorseful protagonist, and finishes the trilogy with a slight note of hope.

The film begins on the day Lee Guem-Ja, who has served a 13-year sentence for the kidnapping and murder of a young boy, is released from prison. Only 13 years? That appears kinda lax, but we are shown, narrated by various inmates whom Geum-Ja befriended, and skipping non-linearly around in time, what a kind-hearted angel she is. Of course, the viewer anticipates that there's some motive for her virtuousness, and after the well-directed and visually impressive first act, we find out what that is. We learn that Guem-Ja was put behind bars partly because the police detective assigned to her case wanted the matter wrapped up, and although he may have had some inkling that Geum-Ja was not in fact the true murderer, he nudged her in the right direction to achieve his aim. This man will also, out of guilt, become one of Geum-Ja's valuable helpers.

What follows comes as a bit of a surprise: we learn that Geum-Ja became pregnant at 19. Because she is shamed and ostracized from her family, she begs a former school teacher of hers to take her in. Remarkably, he does. Where the surprise lies is in the fact that this daughter of Geum-Ja's, whom we predict may have been killed and part of the reason she is seeking revenge, is alive and living with her adoptive parents in Australia.

Geum-Ja travels to Australia to see her daughter, and eventually they both return (after the girl convinces her parents to let her go by threatening to commit suicide), to Seoul. My major criticism of this scene is that the adoptive parents are shown as pot-smoking morons, and if there's one thing that I think is unnecessary coming from a country in which families won't adopt, is portraying adoptive parents of foreign children in such a negative way. The scene was supposed to be darkly humorous (an aspect of Park's works that he doesn't get enough credit for), but it fails. Add to this the fact that, by the film's conclusion, there's no closure on the adoptive parents' story, and I can see a potential, valid gripe of many who will see this film.

When Geum-Ja, a cunning manipulator who is always aided by those whom she has done favors -- some sexual, others acts of what appear to be unselfish kindness -- for, finally confronts the man who forced her to take the blame in the child's death for which she served 13 years in prison, we think that's pretty much it. But at this point the film is only slightly past the halfway point. Instead of killing her captor, it is revealed that this man has murdered 4 other children, and it's the detective who helped put her away whom Geum-Ja summons to assist her in her ultimate scheme of revenge, one which she believes will prove her as the kind-hearted and altruistic Geum-Ja so many think of her as.

The families of the 5 murdered children are summoned to the abandoned school in which the real murderer is held captive. Their choice is simple: turn the criminal over to the authorities, or exact revenge on him themselves. Which is more just? After a gut-wrenching scene where the videos of the children, crying, screaming and begging for their lives, is shown, the decision is unanimous: get medieval on his ass.

Park actually exercises some restraint here. The violence is more implied and heard than actually shown, and while this ad hoc trial of justice occurs, we come to dislike the ones taking part in it almost as much as the child killer.

Geum-Ja watches over it all, taking her revenge only when the murderer, already dead and dismembered, is being buried. No, there's no satisfaction for her.

In the film's final scene, the weight of what is both Geum-Ja's success and her failure catches up with her. Her final symbolic act displays her self-loathing, but it also shows her remorse and regret, her realization that she had it all wrong. Anakin Skywalker could have told her that.

The film is visually stunning, maybe too much so. It's wonderful to look at, showcasing Park's virtuoso as an auteur. There's the obvious David Fincher influence (a lot more toned down than Park's contribution to last year's Three...Extremes); mixed in are subtle touches of Lynch, Kubrick, and some others, but make no mistake: Park has developed his own unique and provocative style. I say that the film is perhaps too visually stunning in the same way that Wu-Tang Forever was a little too sonically refined compared to the grittiness of 36 Chambers. I prefer 36 Chambers and Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance over Wu-Tang Forever and Sympathy For Lady Vengeance, and while Lady Vengeance is a great film, I don't see myself watching it again and again like I do Mr. Vengeance and Oldboy (which, to extend the metaphor, is Liquid Swords AND Only Built 4 Cuban Linx combined). And I realize that comparing Lady Vengeance to Wu-Tang Forever is damning it with faint praise; it's really not a fair comparison. If this were the first Park Chan-Wook film, I'd claim he's a genius. I still assert that he's a genius, that this is a great film...but it's really Rubber Soul up against Revolver and Sgt. Pepper's. That's OK, too: some people like Rubber Soul more.

For those who are unfamiliar with or who do not appreciate Park's trilogy, Lady Vengeance might leave you cold. It's really a paradox, because while I adore Park's previous 2, and while I found Lady Vengeance a masterpiece, it left even me a little cold. I just don't think it has the replay value of his last two.

Note: if you thought the English titles of the 2 Sympathy films seemed awkward, there's a rumor that Park's next film will be titled I'm a Cyborg, You're OK. Awesome.