Samaritana

Director Kim Ki-Duk gives us insight about teenage prostitution in Korea, but is this really a movie about prostitution? Looking deeper than the visual settings, I found that the movie hits more emotionally about relationships, between friends and family. The movie is basically broken into two parts. Part one is about Jae-Young, an amateur prostitute and her best friend Yeo-Jin, her manager. The second part is about Yeo-Jin and her father. Each part has its tense moments, and the director, pretty much does a good job telling the story and showing the audience: tragedy and closeness. There's not a lot of sex or violence like typical prostitution movies, but then again it is not about prostitution, it only uses it as a medium to get the point across. Happy viewing!

In "Samaria" a Korean girl takes the holy assignment of devoting herself voluntarily to the suitors of her dead school friend. Her father, a police man, finds it out and takes revenge at the men.

It is a film about charity, guilt, and the search for the right way, that gets near to the crassness of Kim's earlier work "Seom - The Isle" (2000) and "Bad Guy" (2001). The story is carried away by the director's typical big calm - a distance to the excitement, that is never cold and opens a breathtaking endearment even in the cruelest moments. "Samaria" is full of intensive scenes, a film you rather realize than understand: It hides its secrets and puts up a father-daughter-relationship-story under the shelter of metaphysical aspects. Great coherence flows out of every image, every tone. A film of godforsakeness and full of hope.

Masterpiece! Watch it!

This is undeniably a work of considerable formal rigor. Director Kim Ki-Duk uses deceptively simple but tellingly precise visual compositions to narrate his seemingly simple tale of loss of innocence, guilt and redemption. Initially everything seems transparent and self-evident in the story until intangible elements slowly seep into the structure causing ambiguity and bringing emotional turmoil that remains mostly subdued. The main plot premise, however, might seem a bit exaggerated or overblown to someone who cannot easily accept the depicted motivations for the actions of the two main characters (the girl and its father), especially considering the scarcity of social or psychological signifiers. Consequently, the movie works better on a symbolic than dramatic level, as its wonderfully concise final scene demonstrates. A must see.

This is my fourth film by Ki-Duk Kim (after Spring, Summer... / The Isle / 3-Iron), and he scores one minus (The Isle, despite stunning cinematography), one very good (Spring), and two absolutely magnificent. Despite the fact that I liked 3-Iron just a bit better because of the more straightforward story and consistent way of story telling, Samaria comes very close.

I'm not going to spoil things for you, but I'd just point out that this is yet another highly symbolic film, so much in fact, that this second (symbolic) level is probably more easily understood than the basic story. Not that it's complicated, it's just that story and meaning are not as closely interwoven as in 3-Iron, where the overlap between the two made possible an ambiguous reality that led to sublimation. Here, it takes a while for the two levels to touch.

The feeling following 3-Iron was that of reaching an asymptote - only the infinite was beyond. In Samaria, you feel like some serious stuff happened but what's done is done and the road lies open. We're at a starting point, which is not quite zero but feels like it. Well now, you can hardly call that a spoiler 'cause I hardly understand it myself. But you'll see what I mean after seeing it.

The story, which seems to start out as something different that what it turns out to be, must be one of the most poignant symbolic depictions of the point at which a parent has to let his/her kid go and realise he/she's not needed anymore - or not like before. Also, silence, without being as overwhelming as in 3-Iron, plays an important role. In 3-Iron, good stuff happened because of silence; here, a lot of not so good things happen because of it, but some good things can happen in spite of silence. The ending can be very sad or neutral or have the potential for hope, if you choose my story interpretation. But who am I?

What? Still reading this? - off you go to the video store. Chop chop!

Note: does anyone realise just how brilliant Kim Ki-Duk is when shooting indoor scenes?! Framing, camera movement, light - you name it - sheer perfection.

Ultimately I liked this a lot, although it was very strange. It went through at least three completely different, distinct tones and styles over the course of the film. At first it played like a slightly skewed, but still rather melodramatic, teen drama, almost like one of those Korean soap operas. Very different from my previous exposure to Kim Ki-Duk. Then it started to become a violent revenge story, like something Chan Wook-Park would do. Still sort of more conventional than other Kim Ki-Duk though, not at all minimalistic or slow. The beginning part was actually somewhat contrived, not like an "art" film at all, in any sense of the word. But then, in it's last third, the film becomes an abstract road movie, much more in the style i've previously associated with Kin Ki-Duk. I certainly can't say that this is a consistent film, and the pacing was obviously rather uneven given the gradual transition from borderline-conventional melodrama into minimalistic, impressionistic art film, but overall there was something about it that I liked a lot. Through all the muddledness, i can tell that Kim Ki-Duk is an interesting filmmaker. There's obviously something going on in his films worth taking note of.