I’ve seen
some brutal revenge films in my day (I
Spit on Your Grave, Mother’s Day
and The Horseman come to mind), but
nothing quite as potent as I Saw the
Devil, Korea’s umpteenth such offering alongside Park Chan Wook’s
world-renowned Sympathy trilogy. This
142-minute opus might actually be the ultimate revenge film and the reference
point for all future films of the same ilk. You could say that it is the Citizen Kane of revenge films, not only
because it is surprisingly well crafted, with splendid art direction and
amazing camerawork to boot, but because of its sheer brutality, which perfectly
captures the self-defeating, cyclical nature of revenge and the useless
bloodshed that it involves.
Fueled by
the lowest, most brutal masculine impulses, which themselves are intrinsically
tied to « violent » film genres, I
Saw the Devil is an in-depth study of visceral violence, its raison d’être
and dire consequences. With a number of stabbings and slashings exceeding the
three digits, each of which actually contributes to character development, the
film is bound to find a comfortable niche amongst open-minded film critics and
genre enthusiasts alike. Add to that a bone-chilling turn by Min-sik Choi as
one of the greatest, most terrifying villains in movie history, and you’ve got
a well-deserving contemporary classic.
Violence is in the foreground here.
As in all
revenge films, the premise here is rather simple and straightforward.
Protagonist loves girl, girl gets brutally murdered (and raped, and
decapitated, and dismembered…), then guy goes mad, chasing the antagonist in
order to dish out pain in equal measure to his own. What sets I Saw the Devil apart from the myriads
of similarly-themed offerings that came before is the intricate nature of the
protagonist’s plan. You see, our cop friend actually catches the killer halfway
into the film. That is when we understand that his revenge plot is far more
complex, and far more akin to the killer’s own M.O. than we had first
envisioned. It is not enough for him to break the villain’s arm and beat him to
a pulp because there is a dark impulse inside of his soul, a terrifying impulse
that will make him go overboard.
Having made
a promise to his dead wife according to which he would inflict as much pain to
the killer as was inflicted upon her, Kim Soo-hyeon sets up an elaborate trap
for his nemesis, tracking his movement only to lengthen his agony, dishing out
supplementary punishment whenever he sees fit. In doing so, not only does he
become a monster himself, but he also gives his foe sufficient latitude to
strike back, thus thickening the plot a great deal, allowing it to curl around
and fall back on itself like the snake eating its own tail. As the visceral
outbursts of violence multiply, so too does the trail of corpses grows
exponentially and each of the two main characters start crumbling under the
weight of their testosterone-filled testicles.
When you stare long enough into the abyss...
While the “revenge film” is not a genre per se, one could call it a concatenation of
other genres, most prominent of which are the action, thriller and horror
genres, all of which contribute narrative devices and visual patterns to the
“revenge” lexicon. Here, all three of those genres are mastered to perfection.
Featuring epic, nervously edited fight scenes involving a wide array of blunt
weapons, slashing weapons, stabbing weapons and firearms, the film could easily
rival any serious martial arts extravaganza. Then, there are some nearly
unbearable torture sequences that could challenge any Saw film, but without all the moralistic bullshit, nor any of the
traps’ needless complexity. There are no elaborate contraptions to contend
with, no ticking time bombs or intricate mechanical devices, but only rusty
guillotines and knives. Violence is not intellectualized here, but instead made
visceral, transposed if you will, into the world of animals where it belongs.
Add to that an inquisitive camera that probes its surroundings like a hardened
gumshoe, as well as a maelstrom of a plot that twists and turns toward a
gut-wrenching finale, and you’ve got a surprisingly well-rounded film that has
managed to please serious critics and undiscriminating gorehounds alike.
I Saw the Devil is an exemplary genre entry that should please
all the gents the world over. Unfortunately, that is where a crack develops in
the film’s façade: it will unlikely appeal to feminine sensibilities,
especially in light of the fact that women are herein depicted almost
exclusively as the helpless objects of male violence. Although it does
criticize the testosterone-fueled fantasies of the protagonist by likening him
to the monster he is tracking, the film also taps directly into the spectator’s
own macho impulses to deliver a high-octane piece of
entertainment. Whatever your sensibility dictates however will not change the
fact that the film is entirely coherent in its desire to depict a form of
visceral logic that defies the rationality of the common thriller. By vying to
frame a human being’s primordial drive to forcefully submit another’s flesh to
his own dominion, the film cannot avoid violence, but should embrace it
instead. I Saw the Devil is a study
of violence, its dire consequences and its roots deep within our most secret,
most primordial selves. As such, it must display its object as proof, which in
turn helps create a raw narrative that rings truer than any police thriller, or
romantic comedy ever will, despite their incidental brushings with true human
emotions.
Testosterone-fueled fantasies see women
as mere collectibles.
It should
be obvious at this point in the review, but while the brutal violence onscreen
is the film’s most salient feature, one cannot tag I Saw the Devil as pure exploitation. Sure, the screenplay is
entirely derivative and its lesson about the evils of retaliatory violence
somewhat overdetermined, but the aesthetics involved in its elaboration go way
beyond the reach of any other revenge film. There is more here than just
stating what is wrong and what is right or challenging the spectator’s own
right-wing inclinations. There is a dense, and breathtaking world about to leap
from the screen, and the sublimeness of this world derives directly from the
technical proficiency involved in its creation.
To me, the
most striking technical feature of the film is the camerawork. The camera is
always on cue here, and always focused on the most relevant detail of the
scene, hovering around the scenery to reveal more and more details, each more
increasingly relevant than the last. It is a detective probing the space for
clues, enlarging the scope of the protagonist’s own investigation with utmost
efficiency, adding a touch of subtlety to his crude, brutish methods. As such,
it becomes a player in the story, a quiet observer that reveals every new
atrocity with unflinching, and unnerving aplomb, always keeping us at the edge
of our seat by sharpening our sense of anticipation to absolute dreadfulness.
The camera
does not merely move around the scenery however. It also photographs that
scenery with great care, thus creating a rich visual landscape full of
unforgettable set pieces. One should know exactly what to expect from the
camera by simply looking at the very first scene, a testament to the impeccable
photography and virtuoso camerawork to come. Being a tracking shot taken from
inside the killer’s vehicle, it probes the snowy scenery with the same
inquisitive candor as that to come, piercing through the darkness to constantly
reveal new terrain, but without ever revealing the big picture. It also manages
to perfectly frame the elegant quietude of snow, its purity and subsequent
soiling with the blood of the protagonist’s wife.
Obvious motifs are saved by the sheer
quality of their execution.
The motif
is quite common and it has been used a million times before. The whiteness of a
surface is soiled by the crimson blood of a murder victim, creating a violent
visual contrast between innocence (or the orderly nature of things) and the
monstrosity of a killer (the intrusion of a chaotic element to disturb the
orderly nature of things). Here, it is depicted through a tracking shot that
originates from the snow-covered roof of the victim’s car, then moves down to
frame the trail of blood extending from the driver’s seat to the body of the
victim as she is dragged through the snow. Now, the motif might
be quite overdetermined, but that’s without taking into account the sheer
beauty of the scene, and the perfect aspect of those little specs of snow.
There is some incredible beauty in the world, something almost otherworldly on
which the camera lingers. But then, there are horrible things lying just beyond
the threshold of beauty, things which the camera fully embraces in its
depiction of our schizoid reality. So, there is blood-soiled snow, but then
there is the mortuary chrysalis from which the victim emerges as the next scene
opens. The imagery is quite powerful here: the victim-woman ripping apart a plastic
bag wrapped around her like the butterfly emerging into the world only to be
pinned down by a collector. Again, natural beauty is soiled by the evils of
man. In the next scene, the portrait becomes complete as the young woman’s
severed head is found in a quiet pond. The water is gorgeous and pure, and the large
hairball at the bottom of the pond peacefully wavers along with the algae. But
then, the hair unwraps to reveal a dead face and beauty is soiled again. Hence
the camera once again contributes its commendable attention to details to the ongoing
process of creating a truly affective visual landscape.
The natural
landscapes may be crucial in creating a dichotomy between everyday beauty and
the horror of man, but the impeccable art direction also contributes its fair
share to the film’s iconography by creating mood-specific settings. The killers
herein being characterized beyond the scope of normal thrillers, the background
artisans working on the film have zealously created some memorable murder dens
for them, dens full of various props hailing from different eras, and which suggest a wickedly
postmodern take on psychoanalysis. In turn, there appears a stark opposition
between the stuffy, disorganized interiors of all killers involved (one of
which is a remorseless cannibal) and the orderly, tidy, but empty interiors of
the good guys’ homes. By thus making intricate visual patterns to emulate the
different characters’ states of mind, each with their own elaborate take on
life, I Saw the Devil easily rockets
past the competition and into the realm of high art.
I Saw the Devil offers us a privileged look
into the mind of a killer.
While
praise must be given to everyone involved technically, none of the film’s
success could be fathomable without the commanding presence of thespian Min-sik
Choi as the main antagonist. By creating, and sustaining, a man without pain,
without fear and without remorse, he seamlessly manages to earn a spot as one
of the greatest film villains of all times. Say what you will about
grandiloquent James Bond villains wearing suits, repressed slashers from
Italian giallo or elegant serial killers from high-end Hollywood thrillers, but
they will never outdo the present monster, a testosterone-filled beast that
acts on impulses as if they were orders from God. The man is not neurotic, nor
repressed. He is a simple psychopath with the drive of a wild beast, and as
such, he is seamlessly portrayed by Min-sik. When asked by a supplicant first
victim not to kill her, he mundanely asks: “Why not?”, then proceeds to
dismember her. The fact is that there is no greater agenda to this man, no
greater goal or revenge plot that he needs to carry. He simply does whatever he
wants, whenever he wants, without ever having a second thought about it. His
hand is swift and instinctive in delivering blows with blunt objects, then the
rest of his body is swift in taking what he wants from his captive female
victims, then maiming them to dispose of their remnants. He is a man to
constantly indulge in immediate gratification, and as such a terrifying onscreen
presence emanating from a society where the efforts necessary to do good are
often overlooked in favor of the availability of evil…
While
certainly overlong, and overly violent, for many moviegoers, I Saw the Devil should be required
viewing for any genre fan, as it encompasses many flawlessly executed genre
staples under the larger banner of the revenge film. The quality of the
filmmaking at hand actually makes this offering far more than a simple
exploitation film, allowing it to shift into the realm of respectable, “art”
cinema. It also helps emphasize the ongoing cleavage between American cinema
and Asian cinema regarding the quality of genre cinema. Whereas mumblecore and
B-series now seem like the only saving grace for Hollywood, revenge films have
now gone mainstream in Korea, earning praise from international critics
everywhere they go. Still, you have to wonder to what extent the Korean obsession
with revenge plots hails from an American legacy…
4,5/5 A contemporary genre classic by any
standard, at once an extremely well-crafted and powerful revenge film featuring
one the greatest villains in film history, as well as a superior meditation on
the very nature of violence.
