I was so excited to see this film that we purchased advance tickets. Then we arrived at the theater to discover they were giving free passes to anyone trying to buy tickets to Jojo Rabbit. (“The studio bought out a showing,” the usher explained to the couple next to us.) So I’m sure Jojo Rabbit was packed, but Parasite was, too, even with all of us buying our own tickets. (Why does the studio buy out showings of Jojo Rabbit, though? Is it to make sure the box office looks impressive? Or are studios just more philanthropic than they’re given credit for?)
The Good:
Bong Joon Ho sure does love exploring class dynamics. If you’ve seen
Snowpiercer, you’ve watched him guide us on a quest from the back of the train all the way up to the engine. Where that movie is horizontal, this one is vertical. Instead of a train this time around, we’re given staircases, ramps, and ladders, but the idea is the same. Find the right diagonal, and you’ll be on your way up (or down) in no time. Among other things,
Parasite seems to give us the writer/director’s take on trickle down economics. We see what trickles down to the Kim family. (Stuff comes up, too.)
In fact, the entire film features more ups and downs than a game of Shoots and Ladders. Even the cinematography emphasizes this. I love all the shots of straight lines moving in different directions. So many scenes look like a living trigonometry problem. The variously oriented lines share space in such striking ways.
Parasite also uses windows (be they open or shut) and doors (even if they are not immediately apparent) in fascinating ways that a spoiler free movie review can only compliment.
In general, Kyung-pyo Hong’s cinematography is gorgeous. Every shot has such a clean look (even when the people and places depicted get dirty). I don’t think I’ve seen better cinematography this year (though the film Arctic was also visually stunning for entirely different reasons). Not only are the shots visually pleasing and arresting, but so much of what we see is also deeply symbolic, teasing out hidden meaning.
I also love the cutting irony of some scenes. In the early, darkly comedic scenes, we get a lot of amusing dramatic irony, but as the story goes on, we’re also treated to an unusual amount of situational irony. I could spend about twenty years talking about how Parasite gives us a fresh take on cultural appropriation. I love this idea that everyone is imitating someone, trying to become better. Elements of other cultures and lifestyles are selected and adopted for superficial reasons, but they bring with them something deeper and more powerful that often ends up fitting the situation much better than those who have chosen to borrow them understand.
The film gets an A+ for symbolism, and some prize higher than that for constantly shifting the audience’s understanding of how symbolism is being used. (What’s better than an A+? The Palme d’Or at Cannes, I guess.) Early on, the Kims acquire a new family talisman, this amazing rock. Ki-Woo, the son, says, “It’s so metaphorical!” Throughout the movie, our understanding constantly shifts. Does of he mean this seriously? Is he making a joke? Is he trotting out a phrase he’s heard his role models use to great effect? Is he saying something deep or revealing that he is shallow? Does his reading of the object matter to its actual significance? (At certain points, I would have answered a resounding, “No,” to that last question, at others, an emphatic, “Yes!”) So this is very cool.
You can easily say that the rock does represent wealth and prosperity and have a joyous field day reading the entire movie using the blunt force of that metaphor. But that’s not the only way to read the rock or the film. There’s this beautiful complexity to Parasite. It can (and should) be understood in so many ways. Even if you say, yes, the rock clearly is metaphorical, that does not even address Ki-Woo’s relationship to the rock or his understanding of his relationship to it.
Ki-Woo also says, “It’s so metaphorical,” of a painting he pretends to admire in the Park’s home. I doubt very much he’s being sincere there, but, nevertheless, he’s onto something. What the characters know and understand constantly shifts, and what we realize and understand constantly shifts as well. The first half of the movie is so much fun. The third quarter is full of surprises. The final portion disappointed me a bit. But then the after-movie discussion cranked up my enthusiasm again. (I know, I’m constantly dividing this movie into different portions and reflecting on it in different tenses. But it’s an ever-shifting chameleon of a movie.) After the film had ended, I couldn’t help thinking of it as a South Korean re-envisioning of Poltergeist. What’s great is that all of this symbolism and irony makes the movie so much fun to watch, but Parasite is more than an entertaining experience. The film definitely has something to say and leaves us with a lot to think about.
What I liked best about Parasite is how continuously not just my understanding but my sympathies shifted as I watched. I was never quite sure which characters I should be rooting for. I loved that.
Best Action Sequence:
The best action sequence (and arguably the best scene) comes during Da-Song’s birthday party. This scene is the culmination of all that has come before.
I do love the reappearance of a certain character, though.
Best Scene Visually:
Two paired scenes I can mention jump out to me. One is the first time Ki-Woo goes up. (All of the lines and angles!) The second is the last time Ki-taek goes down (when he’s running home in the rain).
Of course, for me, the film’s most striking and unexpected visual made me think, “What? Parkour?” (It’s not exactly parkour, but it’s the way my kids play Spider-Man in the bathroom.) It involves an unexpected visitor to the Park home and what that person first tries to do. That’s just a striking visual.
I also like the moment when Ki-taek and Mr. Park (Sun-kyun Lee whose voice I loved) face off in the bushes at Da-Song’s party, getting ready for their entrance.
Best Scene:
The very ending of the movie is best. A moment before, I was watching and thinking, “Well, this doesn’t seem right.” Then we get that final shot, and I understood, “Ah yes. Here we are. That’s it.”
Most Oscar-Worthy Moment, Kang-ho Song:
With the competition this year, I would never expect Kang-ho Song to get an Oscar nomination for his work here. Still, it’s a fine performance. I love the many moments during the film when he sniffs at himself, baffled and frustrated. Probably the best one of these comes when he overhears the Parks talking about his smell at time when he is hardly in a position to react. I also particularly loved Yo-jeong Jo as Mrs. Park and Jeong-eun Lee as the housekeeper. (To be honest, Jeong-eun Lee is probably doing Oscar caliber work, too, but I can’t comment on any of her best scenes.) I also particularly liked Woo-sik Choi as Ki-Woo, a character who continually vacillates between being sympathetic and…someone who makes me uncomfortable, I guess.
The Negatives:
Parasite subverts expectations, and that’s a good thing. I went in knowing to expect some kind of twisty surprise that was making everyone think, “What have I been watching?” And even knowing to expect something, I did not at all expect what I got.
But I do think that once we learn the movie’s first big surprise, it becomes a lot less fun to watch. The movie has some huge laughs. It also has moments of suspense, scenes that make us squirm, and material that makes us genuinely sad. But it does not have these things all at once. So each time we transition into a different phase of the film, it feels like a momentum break. I remember thinking once, “Yes, this drama is heavy-hitting, but I wish the crazy part would keep going.” Often movies that give us something different and enjoyable just keep giving us that thing again and again and again. Joker, for instance, is a symphony of demented misery (not one note surely, but the same song for the entire runtime). Tonally, Parasite feels like more than one movie occupying the same runtime. While this does make its title deliciously appropriate, it still makes for a jarring viewing experience. With some distance (and, honestly, I’m not talking about much distance; five to ten minutes will do), this makes it a much stronger film than average. But as you’re actually watching, it’s sometimes hard to tell if this works or not. Several times, I thought, “This movie is great.” Then moments later, I thought, “It doesn’t seem so great now. I liked it better the other way. And I think this dramatic part is a bit heavy-handed.” Actually, I still think that. I love Kang-ho Song’s character and performance, but that Oscary monologue he delivers near the ending about the best plan seems weirdly contrived to me. I can tell it’s supposed to be the best part, and it is the only thing about the film I didn’t like.
Overall: