Exactly what it sounds like, the pick of the week column is written up by the Cinapse team on rotation, focusing on films that are past the marketing cycle of either their theatrical release or their home video release. So maybe the pick of the week will be only a couple of years old. Or maybe it’ll be a silent film, cult classic, or forgotten gem. The only guarantee is that the writer loves the chosen film and can’t wait to share it with you. Cinapse is all about thoughtfully advocating film, new and old, and celebrating what we love no matter how marketable that may be. So join us as we share about what we’re discovering, and hopefully you’ll find some new films for your watch list, or some new validation that others out there love what you love too! Engage with us in the comments or on Twitter or Facebook! And now, our Cinapse Pick Of The Week…
Anyone who has seen a Quentin Tarantino film* knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that being asked to take care of the boss’ girl is the worst scenario a boss can ever put someone in. What A Bittersweet Life (2005) presupposes is… what if that scenario could get even worse than Vince and Mia’s night out in Pulp Fiction, and simultaneously be one the greatest action symphonies ever filmed?
I first saw A Bittersweet Life last year after having heard of its greatness any time Korean cinema was mentioned in conversation. I guess the melodramatic-sounding title gave me some pause. After all, my Western senses are tuned such that action movies must have explosive titles. So I had a little hesitation I needed to get past. But there also isn’t an easily accessible US release of the film via any normal or legal means. Austin, however, has an ace in the hole in the form of Vulcan Video. So when I put two and two together that I could rent one of Kim Jee-woon’s largely underseen action gems, I did so post haste. A Bittersweet Life was probably my most exciting cinematic discovery in all of 2013, so when I had a shot at selecting the Pick Of The Week for Cinapse, the choice felt very natural. What better opportunity would I have to champion an underseen work of genius? I really do wish this film could get some kind of new life in the west through streaming or digital HD because while it is patently Korean in its themes and overall vibe, it also still feels thrilling and has mass appeal written all over it… even in a post-Raid 2 world.
There is very little depth to the characters of this bleak, beautiful crime world. And very intentionally so. Byung-hun Lee (The G.I. Joe films’ Storm Shadow, and one of the most attractive men on the planet) plays our protagonist, Kim Sun-woo. A bit of an up and comer in the mafia, we’re introduced to him as he bounces some guys from the hotel club he manages in stylish and kinetic fashion. We immediately know that Sun-woo is the coolest cat in Korea. So when his boss, Mr. Kang (Yeong-cheol Kim) sits him down, asks him to watch over his mistress for a few days and “take care of them” if he finds the girl with any other men, and THEN says “You can do 100 things right, but one mistake can destroy everything”… we know this isn’t going to be an easy ride for Sun-woo, no matter how cool of a customer he is.
These two incredibly efficient opening sequences set the stage for the entire film. The men he embarrassed at the club in the opening turn out to be members of rival bigshot gang leader Baek (Jeong-min Hwang), who can’t possibly seem to let himself lose face and escalates conflict. And when Sun-woo inevitably falls into an austere reverence bordering on love (but never sexualized) for the boss’ girl Hee-soo (Min-a Shin), it creates a series of complications for him that are… wholly entertaining for us as an audience to watch. And this to such a degree that I find myself constantly referring to A Bittersweet Life as “jaw drop” cinema. Like when you first saw an early Aronofsky film, or first experienced what Jackie Chan or Tony Jaa can do with their bodies. Kim Jee-woon drops off his business card to the entire world with the misadventures of Sun-woo in this film.
Simultaneously hilarious, exciting, kinetic, downbeat, and riddled with fatalism… A Bittersweet Life features set pieces most directors would only ever dream of getting to shoot. But Kim Jee-woon also wrote all the scenes, too, so his mastery is laid bare with this vibrant masterpiece.
Rather than just continue to drop superlatives on you, I’ll offer up a couple of examples. Amidst the fallout from that “one mistake”, Sun-woo finds himself captive in a warehouse. I’ll give away no more except to say that I would argue that “the warehouse scene” rivals “the hammer scene” from Oldboy. And I’ll even up the ante and say that “the warehouse scene” bests or at least gives a run for the money to any of the set pieces in The Raid films. Call me crazy if you feel so inclined… but see the movie first, and then we’ll talk.
There’s also an extended sequence involving Sun-woo’s attempts to get his hands on a gun (Apparently in Korea people don’t just wear automatic weaponry on their persons whilst buying burritos) which is played for broad comedy and succeeds wildly. It may not be constant, laugh out loud funny, but it is such an anachronistic sequence among a largely quiet and cool film that you have to marvel at Kim Jee-woon’s commitment to his unique tale. And of course, this sequence becomes hugely important to the climax of the film. Jee-woon’s screenplay is surprising (even when compared to such luminary tales as the previously referenced Pulp Fiction) and brave.
I mentioned before that the characters aren’t particularly deep and that there was an intentionality to that. Jee-woon’s highly effective action film is actually a nuanced exploration of the meaninglessness of life. Sun-woo thinks very highly of himself, and Byung-hun Lee is easy to fall for in the role. He’s beautiful, skilled, and cautious. But his coolness won’t save him from the cruel trials this movie has in store for him. The same goes for the slighted Boss Baek. Though he is at odds with our protagonist and seems hot-headed against Sun-woo’s cool demeanor, he’s really the opposite side of the same coin. His continued escalation of an otherwise forgettable confrontation reveals a certain battle of pride that results in all sorts of death and chaos and none of it has the slightest depth of meaning. The same goes for Sun-woo’s situation with the boss’ girlfriend. The escalating tension is masterful, executed with filmmaking genius across all levels, and it all could have been avoided without pride, ego, and jealousy taking center stage. Perhaps Sun-woo’s boss is threatened by him and sets up this situation with his mistress intentionally? Perhaps the slighted Boss Baek only has it out for Sun-woo because he wants to be more like him? Either way, in a western film our hero would likely be above all of that, somehow noble and detached. Sun-woo is a compelling protagonist, but he’s not an entirely innocent one. Repeatedly both sides of the film’s conflicts say things like “I’m going to see this all the way through to the end”, when they probably could have saved dozens of lives by simply saying they were wrong, or apologizing.
A bunch of words put together into a piece about A Bittersweet Life simply can’t do this film any kind of justice. Even on a less-than-excellent DVD copy of the film, I feel like it looks incredible. The stylish action, the tightening noose of a screenplay, the incredible cast, and the bold, realized vision of A Bittersweet Life all come together to generate a masterpiece that should be getting fawned over by western action junkies the way Leon or even Jee-woon’s own The Good, The Bad, The Weird, or I Saw The Devil are. The pedigree on this film alone should be enough to convince even the most passive fan of Korean cinema. But what I’m trying to get across here is that A Bittersweet Life may simply be the best out of the massive crop of internationally acclaimed and wonderful Korean films of this generation. I can’t recommend the movie enough and if you do get a chance to watch it… please drop me a line after you catch “the warehouse scene” and we can either celebrate in rapturous praise or analyze why you are so wrong about it. A Bittersweet Life leaves the taste of mastery in your mouth, and if you give it a shot it may become a favorite pill to swallow.
And I’m Out.
*ENGLISH DAVE … I hear you’re taking
Mia out tomorrow?
