Tuesday, 8:30PM, Arclight theatre in Hollywood. The theatre is packed, and we walk in 2 minutes into the showing. Our seats are in the middle of the theatre, awkward to get to. There’s a feeling of absolution in the room, a collectively held inhale- what’s the buzz about? Why has this movie sold out almost every showing its offered its US crowds?
I chose to watch the trailer for this film, mostly because I get very anxious watching horror movies inside of a theatre (refer back to my Midsommar post where I had a panic attack mid-film and had to hangout with the concession stand worker for 10 minutes). For most of my life I’ve shied away from the horror genre- my childhood nightmares were full of blood and gore and images that made me anxious and scared enough. I feared what filling my brain with artistic impressions of horror would do. But then I watched Hereditary. And Mother! And Midsommar. These stories elevated my sense of storytelling- after each viewing, the images, scenes, dialogue, actor’s faces, stayed with me, sometimes for hours, days. Sometimes I felt obligated to write about them just so I could get their infectious effects out of my head. I found it challenging to even read anything (this coming from a person who is at a solid 60 books on Goodreads Reading Challenge) after watching these, and nothing else has done that before. I am surprised to say it, but I think this weird horror/mind-fuck genre might be my favorite.
For half of this film, I wondered if the trailer lied. The audience laughed and I laughed with them. We watched the warm banter between Ki-woo and his father Ki-taek and felt at home. We met Ki-woo’s sister Ki-jeong, and his mother Chung-sook, two strong, take-no-shit women make fun of the men of the family with precision and accuracy. When a friend of Ki-woo’s offers him a chance to tutor a rich family’s high school daughter in English, the family encourages him to do whatever it takes to secure the job. With the help of a forged transcript made by Ki-jeong, Ki-woo adopts the name ‘Kevin,’ labels himself a college graduate and expert in the English language, and confidently interviews with Mrs. Park, the mother of Da-hye (the high school girl) and Da-song, the younger, artistic, and strange boy whom Ki-jeong ends up tutoring under the pseudonym ‘Jessica.’ It’s enjoyable to watch these siblings pretend to be old college classmates, from ‘Illinois, Chicago,’ and to dupe this extremely wealthy woman into paying them high fees for basic lessons. Ki-jeong googles Art Therapy and begins charging Mrs. Park more money for administering ‘Art Therapy Techniques’ to Da-song. Meanwhile, Ki-woo develops an attraction to Da-hye; he plans on asking her out once she is old enough to enter college.
Still in the funny half of the movie here. It’s enjoyable, warm, great to watch this deserving and kind family eat large meals together, laugh together, and congratulate one another on their earnings. The audience doesn’t feel sorry for the naive Mrs. Park- look at how much this woman already has! So what if they’re over-charging her? The Parks can afford it. And we want the Kim family to succeed. Badly. If it means the rich people get (harmlessly) duped, that’s okay. Ki-woo’s family lives in a basement that smells in a neighborhood that smells- we can let them have this other life, even if it is a con.
Soon, Ki-taek (Ki-woo’s father) gets hired on as the family’s new driver, and Chung-sook (mother) gets hired as the family’s new housekeeper. While Ki-woo and Ki-jeong arrived into the Park household somewhat by happenstance, Ki-taek and Chung-sook arrive after their children diabolically eliminate the young driver and old housekeeper (Moon-gwang). Moon-gwang, allergic to peaches, is, unbeknownst to her, surrounded by peach fuzz that Ki-woo and Ki-jeong sprinkle around Moon-gwang; this leads to her eventual arrival in the hospital, where Ki-taek, already comfortably situated in the Parks’ trusted position of driver, waits. He alerts Mrs. Park of Moon-gwang’s hospital visit, claiming she is infected with tuberculosis (a lie that Ki-woo and Ki-jeong help bring to fruition with a ridiculous con of smearing bright red hot sauce on Moon-gwang’s cough hanky). Mrs. Park, sad to see the housekeeper go, who has been working at the house since before the Parks moved in, nonetheless replaces her with Chung-sook. For me, when I watched the older Moon-gwang walk away from a house that was her home, with only two bags to her name, the movie changed. It wasn’t 100% funny anymore; while I wanted Ki-woo and his family to succeed, I didn’t want Moon-gwang to suffer. Still, though, I was happy to see Chung-sook take on the role of housekeeper. The family inhabits this rich family’s home in a secretive, highly invasive way, but still we laugh as Ki-taek grabs Chung-sook’s ass in the hallway while the Parks aren’t looking, as Ki-woo and Ki-jeong wink at one another from across the Parks’ kitchen.
The Parks decide to take Da-song camping for his birthday, as the strange boy adores all things boyscout-related, especially morse code and an unfortunate obsession with American Indians. Ki-woo and his family enjoy the Parks’ giant, empty home, getting drunk together and philosophizing about what the term ‘nice’ means. While Ki-taek, arguably the gentlest character of the film (a point of irony for what happens later), keeps reminding himself and his family that the Parks are nice people despite their lavish, sometimes wasteful wealth, his wife asserts that their ability to be nice comes from their privilege. I’d be nice too, if this were my life. And while the audience still laughs here, there’s a note of caution in the laughter- we know there’s about to be a shift. And Bong Joon-Ho, the director and writer of the film, teases us with what that shift will be. Uncharacteristically, Ki-taek lashes out at his wife, asserting that her comments relating him to a cockroach disrespect him- I was 90% certain that the ‘turn’ of the movie would be Ki-taek basking in his apparent anger and hurting the wife and his kids, the power of the house infecting him in some perverse way. There seemed to be a real note of hostility and violence in Ki-taek’s demeanor as his wife and kids ridicule him- but Joon-Ho, perhaps anticipating that we expect this to be the turn, deflects. Ki-taek laughs; he knows, as does his family, that he is not violent, that he would not ever hurt his wife. One turn evaded only for the doorbell to ring.
Moon-gwang, the ostracized housekeeper, has returned to the house, apparently to grab some things she left behind. Chung-sook, feeling guilty for her role in evicting Moon-gwang, lets the disheveled woman in, nods as she walks to the basement to retrieve her belongings. Ki-woo, Ki-taek, and Ki-jeong hide patiently, their drunken night of bliss forestalled. Chung-sook watches, wide-eyed with shock, as Moon-gwang opens a bunker hidden in the Parks’ basement, something the Parks themselves most likely don’t know about. Chung-sook helps Moon-gwang access the bunker, and the secret of the movie reveals itself: in the bunker lives Moon-gwang’s husband Geun-Sae, a disgraced and poverty-stricken man who has lived in the bunker for years, existing off of the dinners Moon-gwang could deliver him during her time as housekeeper. For Geun-Sae, living a life of entrapment is preferable to what’s outside: debt collectors waiting to pounce. Geun-Sae does not find his living quarters as depressing as we do- not by half. In fact, Geun-Sae repeats gratitude to Mr. Park every day in a mantra-like fashion, thanking the man who has no idea Geun-Sae exists, let alone lives in his home. For Geun-Sae, though, this man is his hero. For Geun-Sae, this bunker is his home. Moon-Gwang’s eviction from the Park home now feels even sadder; as I watched, I felt a deep hole open up inside of me, a despicable guilt and pity and sadness that I didn’t know what to do with. An existence in the dark, alone, and Geun-Sae is thankful for it? Geun-Sae cannot pay back the money he owes, which has no doubt doubled, tripled, since his disappearance; he is not a human being anymore but a parasite, a leech on the world, on the capitalism that has given him a fair chance. For Geun-Sae, the bunker is an opportunity to be more than a parasite.
The horror of the movie- and of the idea of being a parasite- isn’t necessarily in the dynamics of wealth, at least not in my interpretation. While it’s unfortunate and shameful that such a disparity exists between the Parks level of wealth and Moon-gwang and Geun-Sae’s level of poverty (and Ki-woo’s family, as well), what’s horrific is the way human existence now depends so heavily on your financial situation. We are defined by what we do. How much we have. How much we owe. The most horrifying idea in this film is the Geun-Sae is thankful for this existence- it has freed him from being a burden to the state, something to be eradicated. He has internalized a capitalistic nihilism that demands you to be producing, contributing, earning, paying; that tells individuals if they are not doing these things, if they fuck up or fall behind or lose their jobs, they are without worth. Without dignity. The film isn’t calling Geun-Sae a parasite- it’s exposing the humiliation and internal damnation of a human being who identifies themselves as a parasite. It’s exposing that self-hatred we’ve been conditioned to feel when we’re not producing, when we’re not burning out in pursuit of the dream (manifested as the Park family). A dream world that Ki-woo naively thinks he can attain through working hard, through diligence and perseverance; that naivety is maybe the parasite after all.
Moon-gwang quickly realizes that the driver, two tutors, and housekeeper are a family- disgusted at their lie, she films the group of them, threatens to send it to Mrs. Park. The two families, both beholden to the wealthy Park family, wrestle one another, threaten to blackmail one another. Chung-sook soon receives a phone call- the Park family is 10 minutes away, the weather having ruined their camping plans. Chung-sook and her family immediately go into hyperdrive, cleaning, cooking, hiding their messes. Ki-taek, knowing he must do the hard part here to protect his children and wife, ties Geun-Sae and Moon-gwang up in the bunker, and what started as a funny con has now evolved into a situation involving the promise of real violence. The family manages to pull it off: Chung-sook finishes dinner, Ki-jeong cleans the mess of broken alcohol bottles and debris. Da-song, heartbroken that his camping trip failed, demands that he sleeps in his teepee outside, despite the torrential rain. Mr. and Mrs. Park lie on the living room sofa, rubbing one another off and discussing the new driver, Ki-taek, and how great of an addition he is to their household, despite his off-putting smell. My heart broke knowing Ki-taek and his two children were under the living room table, listening to the sounds of sex and polite disgust above them. After the Parks fall asleep, Ki-taek, Ki-woo, and Ki-jeong make their escape, walking miles in torrential rain back to their apartment. Joon-Ho spends a long time filming their walk home: he urges us to watch the humiliation of walking in this kind of rain, of the labor it requires to just live while being poor. Even more gut-wrenching is the condition of their home once they arrive: sewage has entered the house, brown contaminated liquid up to the family’s shoulders. Ki-taek urges the children to wait for him outside as he gathers their valuables. Subtly, we learn of Ki-taek’s successful military career: his medal of honor is one item he grabs to take with him. A man who fought for his country, now sifting through shit for what remains. Ki-jeong smokes a cigarette on the toilet while it churns and vomits out black sludge. What a fucking night.
After a sleep spent in a gym, where the government has gathered all of its affected and now homeless residents, the family returns, dutifully, to their work. Mrs. Park has decided that to make up for the failed camping trip, she will host a ‘small’ garden party for Da-song; Ki-taek drives her to get materials, listens to her invite other rich friends, handles the hundreds of dollars worth of groceries and decorations for her, while no doubt fantasizing about what this sort of money could do for Ki-taek’s now homeless family. Mr. Park notes the smell of the car (the smell is a metaphor that comes up again and again, little seeds expertly planted from the start) again during the party-prep, and Kim casts his eyes downward, ashamed at the dirty clothes he’s wearing from the community gym. Ki-woo, who had asked his father what the plan was for dealing with Moon-gwang and Guen-Sae the night before, adopts responsibility. He equips himself with the rock sculpture, gifted to him by a friend at the start of a film, as he enters the Park household. Ki-woo knows that the existence of Moon-gwang and Geun-Sae is too threatening to the farce he and his family have created. While the party starts outside, a ridiculously expensive and elaborate affair, Ki-woo travels to the bunker, where Moon-gwang has since died of a concussion after her altercation with Chung-sook. He aims to kill Guen-Sae, and to, presumably, carry on living the farce. Instead, Guen-Sae gains leverage and beats Ki-woo with his own rock sculpture, escaping the bunker with a crazed and determined look. Guen-Sae has beaten his face bloody attempting to deliver a message to Da-song, the Park son, who knows morse code: Guen-Sae has control of operating the lights above, and while the oblivious Mr. and Mrs. Park attribute the erratic behavior of the light to strange electrical problems. Guen-Sae uses what he can to survive. He attempts to get a message to Da-song, something Guen-Sae reveals he’s done before; it turns out that Da-song’s strange behavior, including his ‘schizophrenic’ paintings, comes from an incident at his last birthday, in which Da-song, alone in the kitchen, saw Guen-Sae, and went into seizures at the sight of him. Guen-Sae believes that he and Da-song are connected, and Da-song believes the house to be haunted.
Ki-woo, whom I presumed to be dead, bleeds in the bunker. Meanwhile, Guen-Sae grabs a butcher knife, heads out to the lawn. He stands in the sunlight, unnoticed, adjusting his eyes to the brightness after four years underground. It’s a stark and horrifying image: his dark, dirty clothes, bloodied face, against a sea of pastel-colored gowns, wealthy smiles. Ki-taek, now dressed in an Indian headdress, is instructed by Mr. Park to assist him with the theatrics of the party: Da-song will rescue his tutor Jessica from the ‘bad’ Indians. Ki-taek doesn’t want to do this- he finds the outfits absurd, the concept stupid. But Mr. Park reminds him that he’ll be paid extra, and Ki-taek ashamedly agrees. Guen-Sae dashes to Da-song, who immediately falls back into a seizure upon seeing his ghost again; Guen-Sae stabs Ki-jeong, and chaos ensues. Party guests scatter. Chung-sook tackles Guen-Sae, narrowing avoiding his stabs, and fatally stabs him with a meat skewer. Mr. Park asks Ki-taek to throw him his car keys in order to get Da-song to a hospital. The keys are now under the dying Guen-Sae; immobile with shock, Mr. Park moves Guen-Sae’s body himself to get the keys. Mr. Park scrunches his nose in disgust- that poor smell, again. And it’s that- the revulsion, the apparent lack of respect, the disregard for another’s humanity- that makes Ki-taek, the sweet man, snap. He fatally stabs Mr. Park in a haze of fury. Chaos.
The distance between compassion and violence can be small. It grows smaller when social class and money are involved. Ki-taek, recently having lost his home, has battled with his complicated feelings the entire film: remember, he was the Kim family member who most often asserted that the Park family was nice. They are nice, I cannot hate them for what they have that I do not. Is it the Parks’ fault that the Kims’ home was ruined, literally shit on? No- but while rain uprooted the Kim family, it only gave the Park family something to complain about. While the Kims bloodied themselves and others to maintain their grasp on a barely-livable wage, the Parks complained about their smell. Ki-taek has dressed in this ridiculous outfit for the Parks; has carried their bags; has committed murder. The lengths he will go to remain above-water, above the shit-infested water; the lengths he will go to avoid being a parasite.
Ki-jeong dies, Ki-woo wakes up in a hospital with a major brain injury, and Ki-taek is missing. Ki-woo and Chung-sook live on, the best they can, nursing their losses. Ki-woo punishes himself with watching endless news coverage of the ‘disaster’ at a ‘wealthy home.’ He wonders where his father is. And when Ki-woo gets the courage to visit that house, from afar, while the snow and the cold surround him, he notices the lights in the house flickering. Morse code, again, this time a message especially for Ki-woo; his father, of course, fled to the bunker, the only place he knew to go. A new rich family has moved in, a new poor man too.
Ki-woo writes back to his father with the hope of a thousand suns. He insists that he will work and work and work until he has amassed enough money to buy the house, free his father, live happily. On screen, the audience sees sunlight dappling the beautiful lawn; we see Ki-taek emerging again, hugging his son, his wife. In the fantasy, the Kim family gets the house. They arrive at the place many of us are told we can arrive at, if we just try hard enough. The place of wealth and abundance and stupidly expensive lawn parties. But the film doesn’t end there. Instead, it ends with a shot of Ki-woo writing to his father in that shitty basement apartment. We know, even though we really don’t want to accept it, that Ki-woo will never be able to afford that house. We know that Ki-taek will continue on with his half-existence, sneaking to grab food and water when he can, most likely dying in that lonesome bunker. Like Guen-Sae, though, this existence is preferable. Ki-taek now thanks Mr. Park like a mantra, no doubt plagued by guilt at what a moment of pressure and rage and unbelievable inequity can do.
We are told we can achieve what the Parks have. That if we work hard enough, stay kind and compassionate and not get lazy, this is possible. American Dream, Korean Dream- gaining wealth through hard work and sharing it with your family. The hope of that future success, abundance, keeps us going. It keeps us working dismal, depressing jobs with little recognition- keeps us plugging away at our monotonous existences, hoping for something more. Hope, though, doesn’t amass anything. Neither, apparently, does hardwork, sacrifice, not even medals of honor. Wealth is a game of chance, not perseverance. If you are lucky enough to be wealthy, you get to enjoy the sunlight, watch the rain water the lawn. And if you’re not? I hope you can find a bunker to hide in. It’s better than hoping you can achieve something more.
fictitiouserika 