Una peligrosa criada

This was my first Do-yeon Jeon film and I wasn't sure what to expect but I was blown away by the intensity of the films bleak undertones. Do-yeon plays the part marvelously and there are other impressive performances from Seo-Hyeon Ahn and Yeo-Jong Yun.

I sat riveted throughout while it twisted and turned down its sometimes too obvious narrative path.

The rather theatrical ending was a bit of a surprise but didn't spoil the films impact too much.

I have yet see the other Do-yeon Jeon films but based on this performance I can't wait.

The original South Korean film from the 1960s called The Housemaid is both classist and misogynistic. The poor widdle rich people are the victims in the original flick, and the husband who is but a boy in a man's body is seduced by a wicked witch of a servant....yeah, its pretty bad in terms of glad handing traditional conservative patriarchal values. So refreshingly, the 2010 remake - also from South Korea - turns that nauseating narrative on its head.

Instead, kind but not very bright and recently divorced Eun-yi is humanized by an introduction to her cramped working class life which she shares with a very close but platonic female friend, before she is thrust into the wealthy family that sees her as nothing but an animal. She's overjoyed to have such a cushy position in a big house, and loves the daughter of the spoiled married couple almost like her own child.

The wife is pregnant and utterly horrible (she makes Eun-yi hand wash her dirty panties), and naturally due to her being so close to delivery while carrying twins, she's not particularly interested in having more sex with her entitled, snobbish husband. So he imposes himself upon the young maid and rewards her with extra pay to service his "needs."

The only person in the entire film who seems to have a bit of sense is the elder maid servant, Byung-shik, who helps herself to oysters and wine and sees her lowly position for what it actually is. A petty betrayal of Eun-yi (which she later thoroughly regrets and recants upon) leads to murderous drama, revealing what soulless people the ultra-wealthy family really are.

A beautiful but less satisfying predecessor to class war South Korean film, Parasite.

The Housemaid (2010)

In all, this is an enchanting, disturbing, slightly above-the-fray look at a highly elite family and the interactions of mother, father, young daughter, and slightly sinister servant. And the new, young, naturally beautiful "housemaid" which is what makes this movie what it is.

It has become so customary to film--shoot cinematographically--at the highest technical and aesthetic level, you sometimes wonder about how a story would subsist without all the visual excess. This is a dramatic, personal story about rich people abusing a good-hearted young woman who becomes their maid. But it is dressed in such elegant, beautiful, truly beautiful visuals, the story takes on an elevation that makes it what it is, something beyond.

You have to decide whether that's a good thing or not.

By the truly astonishing and almost preposterous end you'll be giddy with the slow, careful, deliberate prettiness of it all. I know this second-to-last scene is not meant to be preposterous, but like the key turning point on the ladder halfway through, there is a detachment from the family members that defies and upsets the apparent human intensity implied elsewhere. I suppose the very last scene, which (in its ultra-wide angle shooting) is unlike anything else in the movie, takes us to intentional absurdity, making what we've seen surreal, and in that sense we might revisit the movie and its intentions differently.

It doesn't help to analyze the plot in particular. It's an old story--and better developed, narratively, in several other movies. The beautiful young maid is disruptive, even without trying, eventually drawing the father into the inevitable, and the mother, too, in her own way. A mother-in-law takes on an evil role, but with such cool and prettified distance it's hard to quite feel. And this movie really has at its core the problem of being understood rather than felt.

The leading character--the housemaid--is absolutely sympathetic and well done. (This is Do-Yeon Jeon, a Korean actress with little exposure in Western cinema.) You do get the sense that this is a "knowing" film throughout--it has the intentions of being a serious new Korean film. And it is based, loosely, on one of the truly great Korean classic movies, a 1960 movie with the same name. Here, though, you'll definitely find a coolness and a lack of true emotional involvement that runs counter to the high production values. It's a film that could have been something much more than it ended up being, in terms of content at least. But it's totally engaging in its steady slowness, so if you like films partly for being well shot, give this a try.

The buzz on this film is ringing out loud. A remake of the original film by Kim Ki-young, widely considered one of the top Korean films of all time, this updated version by Im Sang- soo is a lot more revealing and explicit in nature for the modern audience probably sensitized to it, being one of the films selected for competition at this year's Cannes Film Festival, and its two limited screenings during our Korean Film Festival were one of the earliest to have sold out. Needless to say it makes good sense for a commercial release here.

The premise is simple, where Eun-yi (Jeon Do-yeon) got invited by Byung-sik (Yun Yeo-Jong) to serve in an uber-rich household made up of three members - the master of the house Hoon (Lee Jung-jae), his very pregnant wife Haera (Seo Woo) expecting a pair of twins due anytime soon and hence the need for an extra help around the house, and their daughter Nami (Ahn Seo-hyeon) with whom Eun-yi forms a strong friendship with, since a child is non-judgemental on someone's background and social standing.

As much as most would like Eun-yi, a divorcée, to enter the household and see an opportunity to seduce Hoon, this is not that movie, and neither was that the motivation at all. We see the fairly impoverished background that Eun-yi came from, and living amongst the rich and powerful provided a chance to live the high life, since the family is extremely wasteful. With Byung-sik showing her the ropes necessary to do her job, from the bowing to the serving, the cleaning and being at the beck and call of the household members, the hardship probably is well worth it for the perks that come with the job, ones that are beyond the reach of ordinary folks.

So when things turn, you'll find yourself wondering the exact motivation she allowed herself to open up (pardon the pun) to the come hither of the master of the house, who has a penchant for alcohol and being brought up with a silver spoon, there's no such thing as a No to any of his request, although on the outside he may be that rich gentleman, it's not far- fetched to think that these folks would consider money as the basis for all things going their way, and money being the basis to bail themselves out of trouble, and to keep the mouth of others shut. Money as the root of all evil, probably couldn't be more true here if those with the means decide to abuse it, given the mindset of theirs that they can always get away from the blame game.

But what's more engaging in the film is the power play amongst the characters, who are well, mostly female, fawning over the attention, the riches and the ability of what the man in their life can offer. There's Byung-sik being extremely envious with her protégé she introduced to the household, being the unjaded hard and younger worker who earns the trust of the family, and probably she had wanted to show the young upstart her place in the hierarchy established. And of course the main cusp of the problems Eun-yi will face stem from the child in her, threatening the balance of power especially that of mistresses and maid, with stuff that's what television melodramas get made of. To the audience, we don't feel that Eun- yi is of the scheming type, but to the other women, here's a chance of their objectives being detailed by something most unfortunate, a major threat that can come sooner or later in their lives that they have to act, and stop now.

Jeon Do-yeon deserves all the acting accolades she has received thus far for her role, and we feel the pain she has to go through in having traumatic experiences forced upon her just because she's in no position to bargain, until the defining moment in the finale where she gains the upper hand but at what a price at scarring the family for life. I haven't seen Lee Jung-jae in action since Il Mare, and here he does an about turn in a negative role that portrays the caddish behaviour of someone who has it all, while the young Seo Woo portrays the wife that's quite reasonable to begin with, that typical tai-tai but with innocence, until hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

It is the power struggles and the changing of the household dynamics that makes The Housemaid an engaging watch as we witness an internal rot that was waiting to happen. While it may not reach the heights of Kim Ki-young's original, Im Sang-soo's version still keeps things tight and is a wonderful exploration of how perceived threats redefines relationships especially that amongst those with material benefits. Recommended!

A South Korean soap opera, The Housemaid is a combination of Fatal Attraction, In the Mood for Love, and myriad other adultery thrillers. Its sensual sheen and quiet sexuality underpin a grim war between servants and the ruling class with no one winning.

Adapted from an earlier Korean version by director Sang-soo Im, it tells of naïve Eun-yi (Jeon Do-yuon) being hired as a maid in a wealthy household, whose head, Hoon (Jung-Jae-Lee), takes her as a love interest while his pregnant wife comes to term and the other ladies gradually find out that Eun-yi is pregnant as well. While the house is meticulously modern and opulent, an undercurrent of evil runs through it as if it were a Poe tale.

Although at times Housemaid moves slowly, especially in the mid section, no audience could be indifferent to the haughty treatment of the servants by the rich, who treat them as you might think Thomas Jefferson treated his own slaves, with decorum but decidedly selfish and cruel. Eun-yi is not totally innocent, for she enjoys the master's attention, and Hoon can be partially forgiven because of the harpies like his wife and mother-in-law, who treat him like a child, or in the case of his wife, ignore his sexual needs except to create children. That he plays a mean classical piano and drinks wine like an aristocrat used to the fineness of wealth, Hoon is partially an animal of the lowest order, giving in to his appetites protected by his wealth and his ladies.

The final moments are the payoff as most everyone in not spared humiliation or violence. Although the connection between the opening and closing is a bit too much of a figurative and literal connection, The Housemaid holds up admirably as Gothic horror in a modern Asian setting replaying the themes of class conflict and revenge.