Rating summary
Movie | | 2.5 |
Video | | 4.0 |
Audio | | 4.0 |
Extras | | 3.0 |
Overall | | 3.0 |
Pieta Blu-ray Movie Review
The Quality of Mercy Droppeth like a Reign of Fire
Reviewed by Michael Reuben July 26, 2013
Pieta has elements of a horror film, a thriller and a film noir, but it is none of those things.
Making his eighteenth film in a career that has brought him greater acclaim and notoriety abroad
than at home, director Kim Ki-duk consciously sought to craft a more popular work, but he
remains preoccupied with the same themes of guilt, expiation and redemption that have animated
many of his previous films, often through suggestive visuals and allusive, even cryptic narratives.
Kim's initial inspiration for Pieta was a viewing of Michelangelo's statue of the same name,
which is perhaps the most famous artistic expression of the medieval theme of the Pietŕ or
"Lamentation of Christ", in which the Virgin Mary cradles the dead body of Jesus.
Kim has said that for him Michelangelo's statue expresses the sorrow of the world, and
apparently that is the effect for which he was aiming in his film—or at least the sorrow of the
modern capitalist world as Kim perceives it in South Korea. Unfortunately, Kim's ambitious
message is too weighty for the slender plot on which he has chosen to rest it, and the story
collapses under the weight of everything Kim has piled onto it. Kim's gifts as a visual artist
remain undiminished, and Pieta contains numerous striking images. The film won the Golden
Lion Award at the 2012 Venice Film Festival and has been critically well received, which makes
mine a minority opinion. As much as I have liked other work by Kim (though I don't claim to be
an expert), and as hard I tried to like Pieta, I found it emotionally inert and intellectually vapid.
Although other characters appear in the film,
Pieta is essentially a two-person drama about Lee
Gang-do (Lee Jung-sin), a sadistic debt collector for loan sharks, and Jang Mi-son (Cho
Min-soo), the mysterious woman who appears one day claiming to be the mother who abandoned
him at birth. The story is that of the unlikely relationship that develops between these two, and
the mystery is why Mi-son has suddenly decided, after thirty years, to seek out Gang-do and beg
his forgiveness.
The age of thirty has not been randomly chosen, because it is the age at which, by general
consensus and the Gospel According to Luke, Jesus began his ministry. However, despite his
age, the title and the many tears shed by the mother figure, Mi-son, Gang-do is a Christ figure
only in the most abstract and metaphorical sense. He has no feelings for others (though he does
have feelings), and his methods of debt collection are so grimly barbaric that even his employer
finds them too extreme.
Gang-do lives and works in the district of Seoul known as Cheonggyecheon, an increasingly
barren and deteriorating industrial sector of abandoned metal and machine shops for which
legitimate work is scarce. The desperate people who remain borrow from Gang-do's syndicate at
exorbitant rates, signing insurance policies as collateral. When they cannot pay (and they never
can), they are obliged to maim themselves so that the policy pays their debt. Death is not
allowed. As Gang-do repeatedly explains, death "complicates" the policy. But many of Gang-do's "clients", who can no longer work after satisfying
their debt through self-mutilation (or, if
they are faint of heart, being helped along by Gang-do), commit suicide rather than live with their
condition. One such suicide opens the film.
A tall, strapping ruffian, Gang-do does not hesitate to slap around borrowers in front of their
spouses or parents. He believes that people should not borrow money unless they are prepared to
accept the consequences and, deep down, he holds his customers in contempt. At home, he is
isolated and a loner, his love life limited to masturbation.
Then Mi-son appears and, without explanation, begins washing dishes, trying to keep house and
generally behaving maternally. Gang-do is initially furious, cursing this strange woman, slapping
and pushing her away, eventually molesting her and even attempting rape, as he rejects her
efforts to forge a connection. These scenes are played with intense conviction by the two leads,
and they are painful to watch.
Eventually, though, Mi-son wins over the man she calls her son. A turning point occurs when she
actively helps him collect upon a debt, even participating in the violence. For a brief period, they
become a family, dining together, going out and seeing the sights of Seoul as normal people do.
But then events take a turn that will force Gang-do to confront all of the misery he has inflicted
in his life up until then. It's an excruciating reckoning that some viewers will find credible and
others will not.
I belong to the latter group, but certainly not because of the actors' performances, which are
remarkable in every way. The problem is that, even though Kim is trying to make a "popular"
film with genre elements, he cannot forgo his arthouse habit of embellishing the story with
certain typical obsessions that interfere with a narrative that might work just fine—indeed,
better—without them. Gang-do's cruelty is thoroughly established by his treatment of customers
and of Mi-son. It needs no amplification through his mistreatment of animals (a favorite Kim
motif). In an early shot when Gang-do enters the bathroom of his otherwise sterile apartment, the
floor is covered with bloody entrails, and the viewer's attention is immediately distracted by the
question: "What are those?" Only on the commentary does Kim explain that the shot is supposed
to convey Gang-do's preference for killing and cooking his meals, as if this poorly explained
detail somehow enhanced our understanding of the man. In fact, all it does is muddy (bloody?)
the waters.
It gets worse. During an early confrontation with Mi-son, Gang-do disappears into the bathroom
and returns with something in his hand which he forces her to consume as a test of devotion.
Once again, instead of focusing on the characters, the viewer is distracted by an unnecessary
question:
What did he feed her? Was it something from the floor? A subsequent shot of blood
running down Gang-do's foot indicates that he cut off a part of his body (on the commentary,
Kim says it's skin from his thigh), but now the viewer's mind casts back to the earlier scene and
wonders whether the gory refuse on the floor came from
Gang-do? These are not the thoughts
you want distracting a viewer's concentration during intensely emotional scenes between the
principal characters.
Obviously writer/directors are free to explore any form of expression, but one of the most oft-cited rules among artistic craftsmen in every field is to
"murder your darlings"—in other words,
to look hardest at the parts of a work you most love, because you're probably favoring them over
something more important. The mystery/thriller elements on which Kim has built
Pieta require
lean, disciplined storytelling if they are to function properly, but Kim has binged on arthouse
sweets, to the point where the latter half of
Pieta lumbers when it should be accelerating toward a
shattering conclusion. What, after all, does the consumption or mistreatment of animals have to
do with a critique of capitalism? Animals were consumed and mistreated long before capitalist
society arose, and there is no evidence that agrarian, socialist or tribal worlds treat them any more
gently.
An even greater irony, of course, is Kim's lament for the passing of Cheonggyecheon, which is
being bought up by developers to be leveled and replaced by skycrapers, thereby displacing the
impoverished machine workers who remain. Kim wants to suggest that this illustrates the evils of
capitalism, but he seems unaware that the metallic shanties he wants to celebrate are themselves
purely a creation of capitalist innovation. In the 19th Century, writers like William Blake
bemoaned the incursion of brick and metal into the "green and pleasant land" where farms had
flourished. Now one form of brick and metal is being replaced by a more contemporary form of
steel and concrete. The issue is not so much the neighborhood itself, but the predators who
exploit its desperate people. In Gang-do, Kim had a chance to delve into one such predator and
examine his possibilities for redemption, but he keeps distracting both himself and us so that, by
the end, Gang-do becomes just another exhibit in Kim's freak show.
Pieta Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality
Whatever issues I might have with the film itself, there are no major problems with Drafthouse
Films' 1080p, AVC-encoded Blu-ray. Like Graceland
, Pieta was shot with largely handheld and
easily portable DSLR cameras; the cinematographer was Jo Young-Jik, making his feature debut.
The results, after post-processing on a digital intermediate, are sharp, detailed and vividly
colorful, whether it's the varied shades of blue, gray and brown of the metal shops in
Cheonggyecheon, or the reds that always seem to appear around Jang Mi-son, or the rainbow of
colors in the lively districts of Seoul when the main characters venture outside their decaying
environs.
The image on Pieta suffers from the same flaw as the DSLR-originated image on Graceland,
which is occasional aliasing on horizontal edges. The phenomenon is rare but noticeable when it
appears.
Pieta Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality
The machines of Cheonggyecheon—drills, metal punchers, saws and other assorted industrial
devices—are the most notable presence on the lossless DTS-HD MA 5.1 track. They frequently
drown out voices, or require the characters to shout over them. The track's full dynamic range
conveys the hum, roar and whine of the various machines with conviction, whether nearby at full
volume or in the distance. The sound effects associated with Lee Gang-do's collection activities
(pounding on rattling metal, slaps, punches, etc.) are also powerfully conveyed. I cannot vouch
for the clarity of the Korean dialogue, but cries, wails and howls of pain are piercing. The score
by Park In-young is sparingly used and, for the most part, kept in the background.
A Korean Dolby Digital 5.1 track is also included.
Pieta Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras
The back cover of the Blu-ray case lists an extra entitled "Winning the Golden Lion at the 69th
Venice Film Festival". No such featurette appears on the disc. It's possible that the title was
meant to apply to one of the featurettes listed below, but it was not obvious to me which one.
- Commentary with Director Kim Ki-duk and Actors Cho Min-soo and Lee Jung-sin:
The commentary is in Korean with English subtitles. It's a frustrating commentary for
anyone who doesn't speak Korean, because one has a sense that much more is being said
than is contained in the subtitles. All three participants recall details of the shoot and the
locations. The actors discuss their characters and performances, while Kim elaborates on
thematic elements and plot points.
- God, Have Mercy on Us—Interviews with Kim Ki-duk, Cho Min-soo and Lee Jung-sin (480i; 1.85:1, non-
enhanced; 12:56): These interviews appear to have been conducted
during filming, because the actors are in costume and make-up. The focus of the
interviews is on working together.
- Behind the Scenes Featurettes (480i; 1.85:1, non-enhanced; 5:23): Although the menu
lists "featurettes" (plural), only one featurette is included. It begins with director Kim Ki-duk describing his first encounter with
Michelangelo's sculpture during a visit to the
Vatican, which inspired the story of the film. Cho Min-soo and Lee Jung-sin offer
observations on their characters, with the benefit of having completed the experience of
filming.
- Filmography of Kim Ki-duk (480i; 1.85:1, non-enhanced; 2:26): This is actually an
additional featurette that serves as a promotional introduction to Pieta.
- Pieta Trailer (480i; 1.85:1, non-enhanced; 1:55)
- Trailers (1080p): Unlike Drafthouse's disc for Graceland, which included trailers for the
full array of the studio's Blu-rays, the Blu-ray for Pieta omits the comedies and the
grindhouse/exploitation films. It's an interesting choice.
- Insert: A booklet is included with high-quality stills, credits for both the film and the
disc, an opening statement by director Kim Ki-duk, and an informative Q&A with the
director.
Pieta Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation
For those already familiar with Pieta or with Kim Ki-duk's work in general, my negative reaction
to Pieta will be of no consequence. Such viewers can rest assured that Drafthouse has created a
first-rate presentation of the film. For those new to Kim's work, I suggest not beginning with
Pieta, despite its claim to be a more "popular" and accessible work. Better to meet Kim on
stronger ground, like the leisurely but winning Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter . . . and Spring than
to get a first impression that is uncharacteristically grim and alienating. Caveat emptor.