Decisão de Partir

Hmm. I really wanted to like this movie, since I'm a big fan of The Handmaiden by Park Chan-wook. I went in with solid expectations, but unfortunately, for the most part this didn't work for me really.

Let's start with the positive things though. What did I like? The overall cinematography was pretty impressive, with clever camera work elevating each scene. Some camera angles where really interesting in how they framed the characters in the scene, both using close-ups and also with unconventional camera placements. The acting was good, especially from Tang Wei who portrays her character with a great sense of mystery. Also, I very much liked the soundtrack.

But, I'll be honest here, this movie confused the hell out of me. Even though I really tried to follow along with the plot. The movie introduces and reveals so much information all the time and moves between scenes with such a fast pace that it's pretty hard to process everything. On top of that, the narrative is constantly jumping back and forth in time and place, suddenly revisiting old scenes and conversations briefly, which just adds to the confusion. It's not that I dislike complex storytelling, the earlier mentioned The Handmaiden has plenty of interwoven and layered narrative that still manages to tell an understandable and engaging story. Decision to Leave feels in comparison like a needlessly complicated movie with a runtime that is too long for its own good. There are a lot of twists and turns going on, but it just gets a bit tiresome by the end.

I assume that this is a movie that probably becomes better on subsequent viewings, but currently I'm not sure if I have the energy or interest to give this another go. As it stands now, I think this movie is only decent and nothing more really, which is a bit unfortunate.

(Seen at the 2022 Stockholm International Film Festival)

A body has been found beneath a cliff, you are a copper, and you should find what made him stiff, was it suicide or murder, an accident, lets dig down further, speak to his wife, try to discover any rift. It's not too long before you're caught inside a spell, a kind of fog descends that clouds and hangs and dwells, conflicting feelings are consumed, Chinese Whispers are perfumed, exchanges made, that lock you in, a widows cell. Time passes and you take a new commission, until out shopping and you fall into remission, a second bolt gives you a jolt, brings you to another halt, the rising tides, conceal and hide, your indiscretion.

Great performances, especially from Tang Wei, and a story to get you thinking, that is what great directors and great films are supposed to do after all.

"Decision to leave" is a film with a very complicated plot, and I am not sure I really understand every twist of it. There is an alibi that doesn't seem so waterproof after all when you consider the possibility of manipulating the cellphone of an old lady. There is a scene in which I was not sure if it portrayed (film)reality or just an hypothetical possibility the detective was thinking about.

The good news is I think that you don't have to understand 100% of the plot to grasp the essence of the movie. The essence is that the film is a mixture of crime and romance, a detective falling in love with his suspect.

Director Park Chan Wook has made violent films ("Oldboy", 2003) and sensual flms ("The handmaiden", 2016). "Decision to leave" is both, but in a more subdued manner than in the rest of his oeuvre. In an early scene the detective and his suspect have had their first interrogation and at the end of it they seem more accustomed to each other than a couple after 15 years of marriage.

Detective Hea Jun (Park Hae Il) does not sleep well and so the association with "Insomnia" (1997, Erik Skjoldbjærg & 2002, Christopher Nolan) is quickly made. An association that becomes even stronger due to the foggy weather in some parts of the movie. Maybe some Dutch viewers (as the writer of this review) have also thought of "The 4th man" (1983, Paul Verhoeven) about a woman who's husbands all mysteriously die. The difference is however that in "Decision to leave" the suspicion is there from the first moment on, while in "The 4th man" it only gradually arises.

"Decision to leave" is beautifully shot. I already mentioned the foggy weather, but also the interior scenes are sometimes beautifully framed. Apart from that there are some shots in which eyes are very prominent, indicating that this is not a movie about action but about see and be seen.

The early films of Park Chan-wook such as "Joint Security Area" (Gongdong gyeongbi guyeok JSA, 2000) and the so-called "Vengeance trilogy" - "Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance" (Boksuneun naui geot, 2002), "Oldboy" (Oldeuboi, 2003), and "Lady Vengeance" (Chinjeolhan geumjassi, 2005) - brought South-Korean cinema to western awareness and made Park an acclaimed auteur of world cinema. The trademarks of Park's films, which have sometimes seemed to become equivalent with the reputation of South-Korean cinema in general, are shocking violence, the eccentric portrayal of love, and complex narratives that employ surprising twists. The latest film from the director probably will not disappoint the dedicated global audience of such films, but "Decision to Leave" (Heojil kyolshim, 2022) is also something much more.

Hae-jun (Park Hae-il) is a married police officer who suffers from insomnia as he keeps driving between two cities on misty roads. His work is in Busan, but his wife (played by Jung Yi-seo) awaits him in Ipo. When a businessman dies in what seems to be a mountain climbing accident, the police immediately pick up the businessman's Chinese wife Seo-rae (Tang Wei) as a primary suspect. The case seems clear to most, but Hae-jun's feelings for Seo-rae cloud his vision and judgment. In typical Park fashion, the situation quickly turns more complicated, Hae-jun's feelings become obsessive, and soon there seems to be no way out from the mist of emotions.

There is a touch of Masumura's "A Wife Confesses" (1961) and, obviously, Hitchcock's "Vertigo" (1958) in the film's premise, but Park has stated that "Decision to Leave" was in fact inspired by a Korean love song "Angae" (or "Mist") sung by Jung Hoon Hee in the 1960's. In the song, someone, who has lost their lover in the past, gets lost in the fog. We speak of "brain fog" or "clouding of consciousness" when describing the experience of indecisiveness and lack of focus, which are also signs of depression. Hae-jun is not necessarily clinically depressed, though his compassionate if a bit over-caring wife is concerned. After all, Hae-jun, a middle-aged man, belongs to a high-risk group. His wife thinks that Hae-jun needs violence and death in order to be happy, but the cop, who has dedicated a wall in his Busan flat to unsolved cases, does not seem jovial. Hae-jun needs his job or, more specifically, the attempts at solving mysteries to feel a sense of meaning in his life. This is the reason he initially falls for Seo-rae; she would fit perfectly on his wall of unsolved cases. She is a walking enigma.

Alongside Hae-jun, the spectator must constantly guess whether Seo-rae is leading the cop on or not. Some of Seo-rae's behaviours, actions, and decisions may remain a bit unconvincing, which casts a faint shadow of implausibility to the film. On the other hand, the inability to fully grasp the character fits this film like a glove. An additional air of mystery is added to the character for the simple reason that she is Chinese. Since Seo-rae does not speak perfect Korean, she and Hae-jun must occasionally rely on apps on their smart phones for translation. As is well known, of course, things get lost in translation. And the multiple screens between them are not helping. In the end, the spectator is -- just like Hae-jun -- left incapable of having the final verdict on Seo-rae, this ephemeral character in the foggy landscape.

Communication is thus clouded not just between characters but also the film's narration and the spectator. Both Park's style and narration obfuscate the sense of space and time. The complex plot is told in a fast pace, and narration keeps jumping back-and-forth between scenes, many of which have been executed with unprecedented innovation. For just one example, there is a scene where Park is able to combine Hae-jun in bed with his wife, him staring at mold on the corner of their wall, Seo-rae watching a Korean soap opera, and x-ray images related to the crime. Even if Hae-jun and Seo-rae were in different places in different times, Park constantly cuts their looks together. As a result, there is this continuous impression of a gaze that defies dimensions of space and time in the poetic space of the film. By means of editing, Park creates a luring kaleidoscope of ambivalent emotions. At times, this formal approach might make the following of the story a little challenging for the spectator, but the facts of the story do not in the end seem to matter that much. The atmosphere of Park's neo-noir melodrama is clouded by a brain fog in which it is difficult to concentrate and make decisions.

Although "Decision to Leave" treads on familiar terrain for Park, as a film about love and obsession, I must say that I enjoyed it more than any other film from him. Even with his best films, I have always found Park's complicated narratives and his shocking violence somewhat self-deliberate, self-indulgent, and a bit bloated. Here, there are less gimmicks, and the film just feels more earnest, even though it is still a complex story. Given that "Decision to Leave" resembles "Vertigo", some might have presumptions regarding Park's eroticism, which invaded his previous film "The Handmaiden" (Ah-ga-ssi, 2016), but such reservations are unfounded. Curiously, "Decision to Leave" holds back in its portrayal of romance and erotic tension. In the film's most intimate scene, Hae-jun and Seo-rae exchange a bit of lip balm. "Decision to Leave" may not persuade completely, but it is still, to my mind, Park's most intriguing work. Form and content merge into a hazy cloud of fog which one finds difficult to leave behind.

From the director of Oldboy & The Handmaiden comes a new crime mystery that's successful in sustaining our interest & investment in the whole outcome by keeping alive its sense of doubts & hints of darkness but it is also too drawn out & long-winded to leave a lasting impression. More a romance disguised as police procedural, Decision to Leave is a story of unrequited love, regret, longing & reminiscence.

Co-written & directed by Park Chan-wook (Joint Security Area & Thirst), the story concerns a police detective who falls for a mysterious widow who happens to be the prime suspect of his latest murder investigation. The plot has multitudes of layers to it and is narrated in ways that requires closer inspection and while the technical mastery is top-notch, the film is surprisingly missing the immersive quality of his best works.

The central romance plays its own tricks amidst all the secrecy & revelations that surface every now n then and a few scenes even manage to stand out but the film's intentions remain shaded despite never losing its intrigue. Tang Wei plays the femme fatale with an enigma & allure that's as captivating as it is compelling and she is finely supported by Park Hae-il who fittingly renders his role of the insomniac cop unsettled by his attraction to her.

Overall, Decision to Leave fascinates & frustrates in equal measure with its confusing narrative, unpredictable characters, discursive detours, tedious pace and a runtime that's severely felt. The drama has a more ruminative flair to it and the two lead performances steer it rather wonderfully. And even though the film as a whole may unravel more on subsequent viewings, it is suffice to say for now that Park Chan-wook's latest is more or less an underwhelming dud.