Foreign Film Watch: Asian Horror
Warnings & Recommendations for All Hallows Eve.

Acacia (Korea, 2003).

Clockwise from left: images from “Whispering Corridors”, “Tale of Two Sisters”, “Dairy of a Chambermaid”, “Belle Du Jour” & “Phone”. Center: “Ghost House”.

While the Korean film industry also produces it’s share of solid, well made conventional horror films, like the well received Tale of Two Sisters and Korea’s contribution to Ringu mania, The Ring Virus, and supernatural comedies, like Ghost House or Romantic Killers,a good number of them aren’t “just” horror films. Some filmmakers use the conventions of the genre to comment on social issues. How close the resulting movie is to what we conventionally think of as a horror film varies from film to film. While pretty conventional, in it’s focus on teenage girls in trouble, Whispering Corridors also serves as an indictment of the severe treatment students undergo in Korean schools. This film was so realistic and honest that the Korean Board of Education tried to have the film banned outright. Much to their consternation, it spawned a number of quasi-sequels and sparked some debate on the issue. Told from the point of view of a deceased girl, Voice is a meditation on our shared fears about social isolation and uncertainty about what lies beyond death. Phone and Samaritan Girl implicitly attack the abuse of underage girls in Asia.

Acacia falls in the category of horror movie as social statement. While the film delivers unsettling imagery, and much suspense, its’ subject is the implosion of a small surbuban family under the stress of conflicting expectations. A childless couple adopts a child, and unsettling events follow, fraying the very fragile bonds holding the family together. In this, Acacia is closer to director Luis Bunuel’s indictments of middle-class hypocrisy and social conformity, like Diary of a Chambermaid than any conventional horror movie. In some of these films, like Belle Du Jour and The Descreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, Bunuel employed surrealistic dream sequences, fantasies and hallucinations, to underscore his points. Filmmakers like Kim Ki-Hyung (Acacia, Whispering Corridors)and Kim Tae Young and Min Kyu-Dong (Memento Mori) follow suit, punctuating their films with similar scenes.

Kim Mi-sook (Shim Hye-jin) is married to a gynecologist, Do-il (Kim Jin-geun). They live quietly with Do-il's father in a bleak looking suburb. Though Do-Il and Mi-Sook cannot conceive, Mi-Sook is content to focus on her career as teacher and exhibiting artist. Besides, she is wary of starting a family. She shows visible unease, however, when her husband and father-in-law pressure her to consider adoption. Eventually she gives in and visits a local orphanage. To Mi-Sook’s surprise, she recognizes the Edvard Munch-like drawings of a child, whose work she noted during a recent school competition. She meets Jin-sung (Mun Oh-bin) and is taken by the child’s dedication to his art. She decides to accede to her husband’s request and agrees to the adoption.

However once settled in their home, Jin-Sung refuses to adopt the family name, and becomes convinced that his birth-mother’s spirit resides in the long dormant acacia tree in their backyard, and gets hostile when the adults suggest otherwise. In turn Mi-sook resents the child for disrupting the routine of their daily lives, and her husband, for putting her in the awkward position raising a distant adopted child. He also begins to pressure her to put aside her artwork for good. Jin-Sung isn’t happy either, running away on occasion. Tensions worsen when Mi-sook discovers she is pregnant. Threatened, Jin-sung attempts to smother the newborn. Then Jin-sung discovers that the adults have decided to return him to the orphanage, sparking a violent row. Jin-sung runs away again. Stressed out, instead of looking for him, the husband, wife and father-in-law turn on each other. Adding fuel to the fire, the acacia tree flowers overnight, producing strange blossoms. Nasty, malevolent, mysterious things begin to happen (including some surreal set pieces) to each adult in the household, making them distrust each other all the more. Things decline from there.

Looking back on the work of Bunuel and some of his contemporaries, it’s easy to see what Kim Ki-Hyung is doing here in Acacia. Despite the horrific results of the family's inability to cope, what emerges here is a not entirely unsympathetic look at husband and wife cracking under the strains inherent in contemporary middle-class life anywhere in the developed world. Added to the pressure of traditional Korean conformist attitudes, and the need to maintain appearances, are the very modern issues of gender roles in the family, the need to set a balance between the demands of family and career. Such pressures take a toll on people everywhere, including the West, where divorce rates are high and people view themselves as individuals instead of members of a family unit. These stresses are felt all the more acutely in Korea, where economic development has been both fast and recent, and people are still adjusting from their “great leap forward”, while retaining strong internalized sense of feudal social obligations, and the manic desire to maintain “face”.

In making his critique, Park Ki-Hyung makes impressive use of filmmaking technique. Music is used to reinforce a gradually growing sense of unease during the length of the film. A gradual shift in the imagery, lighting and production design is likewise coordinated, to move from the nearly colorless, washed out imagery of the opening of the film, suggesting a cold sterility, to a much darker, gothic look punctuated with bursts of bright reds and browns as the film progresses. On the whole the film has a stark, almost unearthly beauty to it. Shim Hye-Jin deserves high marks for her portrait of a beleaguered woman who has never completely adjusted to the demands of hearth and home, and the two child actors, Mun Oh-bin in the role of the adopted son, and Jeong Na-yoon as the little-girl-next-door, Min-jee, deliver great performances for their age. The films greatest weakness is it’s slow pace, as it demands much from the audience in terms of patience and concentration. This is not disposable entertainment. I wish the American and UK distributor didn’t promote it as such.

Suddenly paying usurious malpractice insurance premiums doesn’t seem that bad, in “Infection”.

Infection (Japan, 2004)

Some of us remember the prime time hospital drama St. Elsewhere that broadcast in the early 80’s, and formed the template for glitzier programs like Chicago Hope and ER. Watching Infection can be fairly described as akin to watching two back-to-back episodes of a Japanese version of St. Elsewhere (with comparable production values) with a script based on typical American horror films of the late seventies or early eighties, like Nightmare on Elm Street or Friday the 13th.

Set in a hospital that’s so poorly managed that the staff hasn’t been paid for weeks, and even the most basic medical supplies are in short supply. The few nurses that haven’t quit work around the clock, swaying on their exhausted feet. The doctors on staff have taken to turning new patients away whenever possible. Unsupervised patients stumble in the halls, and collapse onto waiting room benches. Others beg for painkillers or call out to long dead relatives. Inevitably an inexperienced, incompetent young nurse injects a badly burned, unidentified patient with the wrong drug, and kills him. Rather than risk being shut down, the attending doctors and nurses make a pact to cooperate in covering up the junior nurse’s mistake. They will put the burn victim’s remains in an unused room, and leeching the tell-tale toxins out of his body by surrounding the corpse with space heaters, essentially roast him for two hours. They reason that no one knows who he is, and no one has come forward to claim him, so what difference can it make?

This is a pretty standard set up for a horror movie. What follows is equally routine, if solidly done. Those involved in the cover up have just, wittingly or not, just made a “deal with the devil”. What they don’t expect is that this time the devil will demand payment in full right away. An ambulance pulls up to the emergency room, and leaves a new patient in the emergency room lobby: a patient whose entire body is being consumed by a gangrenous ooze, the likes of which no one on staff has ever seen before. Soon the co-conspirators are struck down one-by-one by his hideous airborne infection, which drives each victim spectacularly insane, before their innards are completely liquefied, pouring out of their orifices, or bursting out of punctured skin. The horrifying deaths that follow owe their effectiveness more to the performances of the cast, than they do to the film’s decent, if not terribly sophisticated, mechanical special effects - especially since the infection drives its victims mad before consuming their internal organs, bones and muscle tissue. Particularly noteworthy are the performances of the three actresses playing the nurses: the chief nurse, an acid-tongued journeyman, and the incompetent beginner. (I have yet to find a detailed enough cast listing to identify who plays who in this film so I can credit them properly.)

The film is shot in a straightforward, workmanlike way, like any decently-produced television drama. Some lighting effects seem a bit forced but that’s easy to forgive given the intent of those scenes in question. Overall, the use of sound effects is pretty effective, and well timed. My only real complaint about the film is its ending. During the last 12 or so minutes of the production, the narrative fractures into a series of alternate endings that segue into each other. This would have been fine if, say, the alternate endings were used to allow the audience to experience the effects on the infection on a victim’s perception. Unfortunately there is no clear connection between any of the endings and any of the preceding plot threads, so the close of the film is confusing, even disorientating at best. This came struck me as a cop-out of sorts. Thanks to the acting, Infection remains entertaining most of the way through the film. On the whole, it isn’t a bad way to wile away 97 or so minutes of your life, assuming you don’t expect too much and keep the movie’s weaknesses in mind (hence the spoilers about the ending).

The Eye 2 (Thailand-Hong Kong, 2004).

Where the Japanese film, Infection, was a solid, workmanlike horror movie, a throwback to American horror films of the seventies, the next two films clearly show how stylish use of the filmmaking technique, creative editing, and well chosen and timed music can elevate the simplest genre vehicles. Both films were directed by Danny and Oxide Pang, a pair of brothers who shuttle back and forth between Thailand and Hong Kong, producing action films and horror movies so stylish that it’s often said their filmmaking technique transcends their source material. Born in Hong Kong, the Pangs moved to Thailand and worked in advertising before becoming filmmakers. They first came to attention in the West for Bangkok Dangerous , a beautifully shot, if fairly standard story about a deaf-mute killer who gets a shot at both love and redemption. Their biggest claim to fame are their horror films: Bangkok Haunted, The Omen, The Tesseract and The Eye which enjoyed widespread theatrical release in the US and the UK last year. The brothers are currently at working with Sam Raimi on their first English-Language film, starring Kristen Stewart, Dylan McDermott and Penelope Ann Miller, as siblings torn apart by suspicion when weird things start happening on the family farm in North Dakota.

Mun’s (Angelica Lee) Takes the Initiative in “The Eye”.

The Eye (Hong Kong-Thailand, 2003) was a well made film about a blind young woman named Mun. The recipient of new corneas, Mun finds not only has her sight been restored, but she has the unwelcome ability to see ghosts. Some are simply unnerving, others quite horrifying, depending on the circumstances of their individual deaths. She eventually realizes the reflections and rooms she sees in mirrors are not her own, and begins to fear for her sanity. Her quest for answers leads her to Thailand, to uncover a tragedy, and even more frightening aspects of her new found abilities. While The Eye has it’s shares of inventive, evocative scares, what makes the film stand out is the way the Pangs make the audience identify with Mun’s plight, and share in her reactions to her unhappy dead and the discoveries she makes about the afterlife during her trip to Thailand. It also helped that the brothers had a strong lead in Angelica Lee, who won Best New Actress honors in Hong Kong and Taiwan for her work in this film. (The Pangs got honors for Best Visual and Sound Effects at the same awards ceremonies.) Tom Cruise bought the remake rights to the film. All this money and attention spells one word: S-E-Q-U-E-L.

Joey Wong (Shu Qi) Takes It and Takes It, in “The Eye 2”.

I’m happy to say the resulting film, The Eye 2 (Thai-HK, 2004, available on Region I DVD) is pretty good. This time the Pang Brothers give us Shu Qi (So Close, Stormriders)in one of the best performances of her career as a self-centered young woman named Joey Wong, who is involved in an affair with a married Thai named Sam (Jesdaporn Pholdee). Pregnant, and abandoned by her lover, she retires to a luxury hotel room in Bangkok and takes an overdose of sleeping pills. Discovered by the hotel staff, Joey's stomach is pumped at the hospital. During her recovery, she gets a quick glimpse of ghosts gathered around her bed. Though shaken, she chalks this first encounter with the restless dead up to a hallucination. Depressed Joey returns to Hong Kong, tormented by her lover’s desertion and wrestling with the question of whether or not to keep the child. There begins a series of stylishly executed set pieces as she stumbles upon the ghosts wherever she turns, each encounter more disturbing than the last. Many of these encounters land her in police precinct houses and hospitals, and she quickly gains a reputation as a crazed, suicidal, pregnant girl who suffers from delusions. The Pang’s pace these scenes very well, treating us to a series of increasingly frightening set pieces, each more imaginative and startling than the last. Joey’s encounters take their toll, and her nerves become increasingly frayed as time goes on. Much to her horror, she notices that one ghost in particular (Eugenia Yuan) seems to be following her, even taking control of her body at critical moments. She eventually recognizes the woman, as the ghost she watched reenact her own, more successful attempt to kill herself by flinging herself in front of a moving train. Finally taking the initiative, Joey investigates the woman’s past, and learns that seeing the dead isn’t her most pressing problem, which is inextricably intertwined with a severe conception of the Buddhist law of karma and the cycles of reincarnation. A few of these scenes feature welcome appearances by fight choreographer Phillip Kwok (Mad Dog in Hard Boiled playing the toughest looking monk I’ve ever seen.

At this point it becomes clear that the ability to see the spirits of the dead, while an essential part of Joey’s story, isn’t as important to this story than it was to Mun’s journey in the first Eye film. The Eye 2 is another story entirely, with an equally interesting, but different theme than its predecessor. Were the Pang Brothers to alter their presentation of ghosts (which remind viewers that the film is a sequel) they’d still have a perfectly good, stand-alone horror story about how an unwelcome new ability forces Joey into an wider awareness of things beyond her own selfish concerns. Though Joey’s it takes a while for Joey to take the initiative (and that moment of transition isn’t quite as convincing as it was in the first Eye film - perhaps because Angelica Lee’s Mun is a much more admirable and proactive character than Shu Qi’s Joey Wong), Shu Qi turns in a strong enough performance before and after that the lapse is easily forgiven. Shu Qi rarely gets the chance to exhibit the range shown in her independent films, Beijing Rocks, Millennium Mambo and Viva Erotica, and she makes the most of the chances her character provides here. Ultimately though, however strong her performance, or sound the script, what matters here is style, something the Pangs have in abundance, and bring to almost every project they participate in. They are the true spiritual heirs of the director like Tsui Hark, John Woo, Ronny Yu among others, who became leading lights of the Hong Kong film industry in the mid-80’s to the late 90’s. In other hands, The Eye 2, could have felt as routine as Infection described above. Thanks to the Pangs, it manages to rise above a bit above its genre roots, at least as much as the story’s conventional structure will allow.

Abnormal Beauty (Thailand-Hong Kong, 2004).

Nowhere is this more evident than Oxide Pang’s most recent solo effort as director, Abnormal Beauty (2004) which screens in cinemas in the UK this September, and will be released in an Region I DVD edition in the US this spring. The story of one young woman’s self destructive obsession with death, the movie could have easily become just another exploitation film, not unlike Dario Argento’s "gaillo yellow” sex and splatter movies of the seventies. Instead, Oxide Pang’s skillful, even bravura direction, the way he uses creative camera work, editing and sound cues, makes the audience share in the heroine’s growing madness. Until the introduction of some questionable plot elements in the films last third, Abnormal Beautycompares well with Roman Polanski’s classic 1965 thriller Repulsion, a film with which Abnormal Beauty shares a number of themes and narrative devices. I found myself wondering if Oxide Pang intended Abnormal Beauty as a homage of sorts, to the Polanski film, much as Stephen Chow’s Kung Fu Hustle and Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill films were tributes to Lau Kar-leung, Sammo Hung and Chang Cheh’s kung fu films of the sixties and seventies.

Polanski’s “Repulsion” (1965) with Catherine Deneueve.

In Repulsion Catherine Deneuve plays a young Belgian manicurist, Carole, who lives with her sister and her sister's fiancée in a cramped London flat. Fed up with caring for the reclusive, fearful young woman, the couple goes on an extended vacation, leaving Carole behind. Before long, Carole begins hallucinating: threatening, anonymous men appear in her mirror, hands reach out from the walls and molest her. Soon she is barely able to function. Her madness worsens until Carol imagines herself being raped in her bedroom, and she loses whatever tenuous grip on reality she had. When a concerned co-worker checks in on her, the story reaches its horrific climax. Though the same script could, in lesser hands, easily become a titillating piece of exploitive trash, Polanski’s and Deneuve’s approach to the material never falters. Where others might have taken the easy way out by resorting to full-on nudity or a gratuitous rape scene, Polanski inserts suggestive aural cues and quickly spliced in visual hints, to chart Carol’s descent into psychosis. He is also greatly aided by Catherine Deneuve's disciplined performance, which makes you believe in Carol’s madness. Together they keep the audience riveted to the screen, producing a masterpiece of psychological horror.

Jiney (Rose Wong) learns that Art can be Dangerous in “Abnormal Beauty”.

In Abnormal Beauty Race Wong plays Jiney, an accomplished art student. Though she wins award after award for her technical proficiency, on a personal level she’s deeply dissatisfied with her own work. Taking photographs one day with her roommate and lover, Jace (short for Jasmine, and played by Rose Wong, Race Wong’s sister – the two comprise a Singapore-based singing act called 2R) the couple happens upon a fatal car accident. Shocked at the bloody tableau, Jiney begins snapping pictures of the accident scene, at first cautiously, then with increasing fervor. With growing excitement, she realizes she’s finally found her “subject”, an absorbing thematic focus for her work. She begins searching for dead animals to photograph, and when that doesn’t satisfy her, she begins paying butchers kill animals in front of her. One day, while resting (masturbating?) in the bath, repressed traumatic childhood memories surface, in a sequence recalling Carol’s hallucinations in Repulsion. While these scenes aren’t entirely successful, the viewer (voyeur?) begins to wonder just how far Jiney will go to exorcise the energies released by her formerly repressed memories. She’s certainly clear about what she wants: to capture the moment life leaves the body, as a metaphor for the essential nature of art-making art, capturing and preserving a single moment for all eternity.

The first two thirds of the film are excellent. Even more so than Shu Qi in The Eye 2,Race brings Jiney to memorable life. While she isn’t the actress Deneueve is (few are), her portrayal of obsession growing into a dangerous madness is pretty convincing. (In contrast, Race’s co-stars Anson Leung and Rose Wong, turn in adequate performances as the dull young man who harbors a strong attraction to Jiney; and the loyal, if demanding, Jace. Fortunately the script doesn’t require too much more from them.) Especially engrossing are the numerous sequences of Jiney making art. Oxide Pang makes clever and creative use of the physical work of being an artist - cutting quickly between close ups of Jiney’s changing expressions to shots of her shooting film on the street, developing the film in her darkroom, working a visual idea with quickly sketched thumbnails, then transforming that idea via the broader motions of moving paint across canvas with brushes of various sizes - to trace Jiney’s enthusiasm and concentration, as it mutates into something nearing hysteria. Whether she is tracking a suicide victims descent from a rooftop using a camera equipped with a motor drive, tracing an imagined flow of blood from the top of a model’s head to her toes with a single flowing line of cadmium red, or taunting Anson sexually, in order to get him to assume even more distorted poses while “playing dead” for Jiney’s camera, Oxide Pang and Race Wong collaborate to make Jiney’s day-to-day descend into madness palpable. Jiney's psychological journey may not be novel, but the trademark Pang style and Race Wong's performance together more than compensate.

Some find fault with the final third of the film, saying it’s, “more ugly than compelling”, and at points sloppy, as though Oxide Pang lost control at some point, and made an ill-advised turn to a kind of lurid, even gratuitous fetishism. It’s true that elements of sadomasochism and sexual stalking enter the story at this point, but I thought the end of Jiney’s journey is perfectly in keeping with the downward spiral that got her there in the first place. In this Abnormal Beauty is akin to Repulsion and a more recent French film, Don’t Let Me Die in a Sunday, wherein sloppy, sexually obsessed, Parisians stumble from orgy to orgy until the meaningless of their lives becomes too much for some of them to bear. The protagonist’s nocturnal activities get progressively kinkier as their shared sexual addiction spurs them on to wilder encounters, but there ultimately comes a point where one is either consumed, like Jiney, or destroyed by personal insight into the barren hopelessness of their way of life, like Jean Marc Barr’s Ben, in Sunday.

Read more of YMB's Halloweek!

Discuss this article in our forum