Geuddae geusaramdeul

Korean cinema has made leaps and bounds in recent years. Though The President's Last Bang is slightly inferior to more recommendable Korean films, it is still a superb example in storytelling.

The autocratic President Park lives the life of a typical dictator; opulent surroundings, promiscuous women and complete authority. As such, the state of the country is becoming more and more disgusting to the chief of secret police, Director Kim. On October 26, 1979, Kim concludes enough is enough and conspires with his loyal deputies. What follows are the fateful actions of those involved.

The President's Last Bang created quite a controversy in its native South Korea when it was released due to divided public opinion on the former president. Filmwise, the movie is well done, idiosyncratic and morbidly humorous. When was the last time regicide made you laugh, caused compassion and intrigued? It doesn't matter, go and see The President's Last Bang.

This film is supremely stylish throughout. It informs the viewer about the reputation of the regime, the political pressures from the USA, the fear of attack from the North and the desire to replicate Japan without ever patronising the viewer of shoving it down your throat.

The lead performances, particularly that of the KCIA agents, are outstanding. The film exudes style in every shot, from the 'Blue House' as the quintessential VIP 'entertainment venue' to the military fatigues in the army HQ. The cars and suits demonstrate an appreciation of the kind of Hong Kong cinema Tarantino is so fond of plundering.

The film's triumph is to never let you sympathise or detest one character too much, that ambiguity allows for the stock of characters to rise and fall as their motives become at the same time clearer and more misguided.

Visually arresting with realistic and extreme violence the film is not for the faint hearted.

I'm-Sang Soo's "President's Last Bang" is an awesome piece of cinema, a throwback to the paranoid political thrillers of the 70s like "The Conversation," "The Parallax View" and "All the President's Men."

The film revolves around the true story about an assassination attempt made on President Park Chun-hee and its aftermath.

Saw this at Telluride and was blown away by the pitch black comedy, Kim Woo-hyeong's incredible super 35mm cinematography, and the fluid tracking shots.

The director described this film as in the vein of "Goodfellas" and the "Godfather" trilogy.

For those who are fiending for more quality Korean cinema after "Oldboy," this is definitely worth seeking out.

In the United States we claim to have a long tradition of free expression which we hold dear, or at least insist we do. I say the words "we claim" because the ability to print Communist propaganda in Minnesota, sell gangsta rap in Arkansas and dunk a crucifixes in urine and call it art aren't exactly things that have been blithely accepted by America's moral majority. But while these things have been met with controversy, protest and even litigation, for the most part we as Americans enjoy a pretty wide birth when it comes to things we're willing to accept in the public square. This is not the case in other more draconian nations. "They hate us for our freedom," I hear some of you cry. Indeed, they're the countries we think about least; the Eastern Bloc kleptocracies, the South American socialists, the ultra-conservative caliphates and, of course, the bulwark remnants of Communism.

You wouldn't expect South Korea to be high on that list of freedom hating dystopias. Sure our understanding of the Korean peninsula is largely centered on the 1950-1953 era, but we all know South Korea is the "free" Korea, right? Well in 1961-1979, South Korea was actually under the leadership of Park Chung-Lee, a former military general turned President for life after a coup d'etat left the country in his power. Within a controversial 18 year reign, Park's expansion of emergency powers, curbing of constitutional rights and overall gestapo-ism led to large-scale student protests resulting in chaos and bloodshed.

It is under those conditions we first meet Korean Central Intelligence Service (KCIA) Agent Ju (Han). Ju is the head of President Park's (Song) security detail and along with Director Kim (Baek) doesn't seem to like the libertine political figure too much. They along with Colonel Min (Kim) plan to assassinate the President at one of his luxurious villas. The entirety of the film takes place within the golden hours before the assassination attempt and twilight hours after the deed. It is at this point the history of the event gets a little hazy. If you're watching The President's Last Bang in the United States, you're used to true stories being fudged. But in South Korea, the events in the film comes with baggage.

The movie itself is menacing and uneasy in it's voyeurism. The feeling evoked by the cinematography is somewhere between bemusement and revulsion; it's otherworldly and murky all at once. The camera has a habit of peering out behind fences, and tilting and buzzing into the four corners of the room like a spying gadfly. Other times the camera seems to stand at attention, squinting up at grimacing generals and bookish bureaucrats. The only person we tend to view at eye level is Agent Ju, probably the only person in the group who's heart is in the right place.

Of course it's not that clear at first. Agent Ju calmly converses with fellow agents knowing full well he's likely going to kill them. We're thrown right into the action with Ju, Colonel Min and Director Kim never really explaining their actions. To those with familiarity on the subject, the feeling must have been similar to the gentle wisp of wind that pre-impacts a mousetrap. I, knowing nothing still tasted the bitter taste of adrenaline pumping through my veins.

The cynicism, bitterness and inspired bits of gallows humor all work in the film's favor serving a surprisingly literal film that, like the event itself, leaves you with more questions than answers. With judging eyes primed by President Park's bacchanalian vices we're chained to characters left either dead or disappointed and no one, including the audience is wiser for it.

It is arguably for that reason the reaction following the film is so polarizing. The Colonel and Director Kim state their reasons for the coup with identical democratic log lines. They along with their targets the President, Bodyguard (Jung) and Chief Secretary (Kwun) act unilaterally callous and equally despicable. Meanwhile President Park's legacy, which includes being Korea's "greatest president" according to actual Koreans, is thrown in the air like a flank steak being fed to pitbulls. The Park family successfully sued the production company for $105,000 over the President's portrayal. And before you go saying $105,000 is a tiny amount to a studio, also consider the Park family includes current president Park Geun-Hye.

The President's Last Bang is quietly and assuredly one of the murkiest political statements ever committed to the screen. While speaking a story that offers little resolution, the images on the screen clearly pierces a wound into the psyche of contemporary Korea. Seeing the American DVD release, I was not aware until later that the Korean release purposely left blank screen for images deemed offensive. While that technical detail was left out of the American release, what's left out of both are 4 minutes of documentary footage of the student demonstrations that revealed Park for a despot.

I saw this recently at the Toronto International Film Festival to a packed house with the director present. I liked it.

It comes across as a fictionalized account of the events leading up to the the 1979 president's assassination. It was believable, suspenseful, and occasionally funny, if you can imagine that! This was the work of someone who really cared to bring a defining historical moment into the modern psyche, to raise some important questions about Korean society.

In my mind, this is what movies should be about -- defining moments of time. And crafting a story that allows the viewer to be drawn into the circumstances, to be shown a view of how things may have happened without being dogmatic or overly judgmental. Kudos to the director to crafting an even-keeled drama that, I suspect is accessible to a large international audience.