Jung-ho has gone to seed. Once a cop in Seoul's police Task Force, he now claws a dubious living pimping out girls of his 'massage parlour' business keeping them, his meat-headed assistant Meathead and sometimes dangerous clients in check with a mixture of sweet-talking, intimidation, bull-headed business-acumen and the odd beating. Imagine the cop out of Public Enemy as a pimp, and you're halfway there. Jung-ho, however, is more vexed than usual (he's a pretty surly S.O.B.) because three of his girls have absconded of late, along with his generous loans. Coincidence or bad luck? Then he gets a call from an infrequent but regular client, a chap identified by his phone number, 4885. The same client the vanished girls were last sent to. Smelling a rat, Jung-ho rushes to the rescue, or re-acquire the prostitute he just sent out to service 4885, that prostitute being a sick but absolutely devoted mother to a little girl. Blessed with both a crook's and ex-cop's savant (and a stroke of luck), Jung-ho quickly tracks down 4885: a placid, seemingly totally ordinary Ha Jung-woo. What Jung-ho doesn't know is that 4885 has already mauled his girl, and done for two Christians investigating his pad. This is an intriguing set-up; the killer is unmasked right at the start thus allowing for an unfamiliar narrative progression as Jung-ho tries to discover the killer's lair, the anti-hero as a sad-sack ex-cop pimp immediately introduces ideas of moral compromise and self-doubt, and as the film unfolds it neatly subverts our pre-conceptions of serial-killer police procedural films.
Bloody, brutal and laced with that Korean tang of black humour, it's a gutsy and exciting film. I admired the excellent location cinematography, great production design which neatly (and convincingly) integrated real locations and genre flourishes such as the killer's doodling on walls, and go-ahead performances which push the film forward. There are two well-choreographed foot-chases trough dimly lit alleyways and for all the stylisation, the film manages to suspend disbelief (for the most part) thanks to the scuzzy, ordinary setting.
Also very impressive is how the sub-plots of the mayor being heckled at a PR event and being daubed with faeces and the legitimate police investigation being run parallel to Jung-ho's feverish efforts. Jung-ho's moral quandary, desperation and slow self-realisation are well-conveyed; we watch him slowly but surely come to see how he is part and parcel of the system that has allowed so many young women to be murdered. The escalating tension is generated not so much by the search for the killer's lair and his impending release but Jung-ho's attempt's to redeem himself through this long, long dark night (and dawn) of the soul.
On the down side, this is also quite manipulative film-making which finally doesn't have the courage of its convictions. Crucial flaws are evident in the way the director uses children to tug at our heartstrings and demonstrate how Jung's paternal instincts are being reawakened. Worse still, the film betrays one of its strongest elements: its killer. Neither terribly charismatic not outwardly menacing, Ha Jung-woo is superbly cast and gives terrific performance, a worthy counterweight to Kim Yun-seok's volatile turn. The film up-ends many of the clichés that surround cinema's mass-murderers, showing it to be a grubby human failing rather than a super-human achievement (re: The Silence of the Lambs, Seven). But as the film continues, it reverts slightly to type, with the powers-that-be deigning the police investigation unfit (thus unleashing the killer on the innocent public again) in attempt to provoke our anti-establishment ire. This change of direction results in a act of bludgeoning violence that is gruesomely compelling, beautifully horrific and rather suspect, since it also undercuts some the sympathy that previously been extended to the victims and gives Jung-ho carte blanche to lather the sh**e out of the murdered, any pretences of moral complexity now having gone out the window. The climax is disappointing: a run-of-mill punch-up that bears too great a resemblance to the finale of Public Enemy. At the end, the film is left poised between gripping, semi-realist policier and a messy, vaguely dull genre piece.
The film's stupendous success at home and rapid international distribution is cheering, but as Memories of Murder showed, film-makers can have it both ways: to be simultaneously entertaining and witty, while also incisive and caustic. The Chaser doesn't get the balance right quite as well but it's still a very superior, thought-provoking thriller.
Bloody, brutal and laced with that Korean tang of black humour, it's a gutsy and exciting film. I admired the excellent location cinematography, great production design which neatly (and convincingly) integrated real locations and genre flourishes such as the killer's doodling on walls, and go-ahead performances which push the film forward. There are two well-choreographed foot-chases trough dimly lit alleyways and for all the stylisation, the film manages to suspend disbelief (for the most part) thanks to the scuzzy, ordinary setting.
Also very impressive is how the sub-plots of the mayor being heckled at a PR event and being daubed with faeces and the legitimate police investigation being run parallel to Jung-ho's feverish efforts. Jung-ho's moral quandary, desperation and slow self-realisation are well-conveyed; we watch him slowly but surely come to see how he is part and parcel of the system that has allowed so many young women to be murdered. The escalating tension is generated not so much by the search for the killer's lair and his impending release but Jung-ho's attempt's to redeem himself through this long, long dark night (and dawn) of the soul.
On the down side, this is also quite manipulative film-making which finally doesn't have the courage of its convictions. Crucial flaws are evident in the way the director uses children to tug at our heartstrings and demonstrate how Jung's paternal instincts are being reawakened. Worse still, the film betrays one of its strongest elements: its killer. Neither terribly charismatic not outwardly menacing, Ha Jung-woo is superbly cast and gives terrific performance, a worthy counterweight to Kim Yun-seok's volatile turn. The film up-ends many of the clichés that surround cinema's mass-murderers, showing it to be a grubby human failing rather than a super-human achievement (re: The Silence of the Lambs, Seven). But as the film continues, it reverts slightly to type, with the powers-that-be deigning the police investigation unfit (thus unleashing the killer on the innocent public again) in attempt to provoke our anti-establishment ire. This change of direction results in a act of bludgeoning violence that is gruesomely compelling, beautifully horrific and rather suspect, since it also undercuts some the sympathy that previously been extended to the victims and gives Jung-ho carte blanche to lather the sh**e out of the murdered, any pretences of moral complexity now having gone out the window. The climax is disappointing: a run-of-mill punch-up that bears too great a resemblance to the finale of Public Enemy. At the end, the film is left poised between gripping, semi-realist policier and a messy, vaguely dull genre piece.
The film's stupendous success at home and rapid international distribution is cheering, but as Memories of Murder showed, film-makers can have it both ways: to be simultaneously entertaining and witty, while also incisive and caustic. The Chaser doesn't get the balance right quite as well but it's still a very superior, thought-provoking thriller.