Review by
Ren Zelen
Directed by: Park Chan-Wook
Starring: Kim Min-hee, Kim Tae-ri, Ha Jung-woo, Cho Jin-woong,
Kim Hae-sook, Moon So-ri
Park Chan-Wook’s The Handmaiden, based on the novel 'Fingersmith' by Sarah Waters is, like the
book, a cleverly constructed and erotically charged thriller.
While Waters sets her story in Victorian England, Park sets his film
adaptation in 1930s Japanese-occupied Korea. By replacing the class system
of Victorian England with the hierarchical dynamic of occupier and occupied,
Park has tapped into something just as complex and effective.
The Handmaiden is divided into three parts, each section
augmenting the story and offering it from a different perspective. It begins
with the story of Sook-hee (Tae Ri Kim), a pretty thief and
pick-pocket, who conspires with an accomplished con artist - a handsome
Korean posing as a wealthy Japanese aristocrat, who operates under the name
of Count Fujiwara (a suave Ha Jung-Woo).
They plan to swindle the inheritance from an orphaned Japanese noblewoman, Lady Hideko (Min-hee Kim) and then lock her away in a mental asylum. Young Lady Hideko has been sternly raised by her uncle Kouzuki, who also has designs upon his niece’s fortune and upon whom the conman intends to exact a ‘vengeance-by-proxy’. Uncle Kouzuki’s huge house is a hybrid; half English manor (perhaps in deference to Waters’ original setting) and half traditional Japanese home.
Their plot almost derails when Sook-Hee enters the house as the lady’s maid
and falls in love with Hideko, but she still persists in her attempts to
persuade Hideko to elope with Count Fujiwara so that she can escape her
stifling existence with her uncle. Hideko agrees to do so, but only on
condition that she can take her maid with her. However, the first part ends
with a double-cross that undermines everything seen so far and throws all
into doubt.
[ READ MORE: New Release Review - All Quiet on the Western Front ]
[ READ MORE: New Release Review - All Quiet on the Western Front ]
In the second section we see the story through Lady Hideko's eyes and this
includes startling revelations about her own character and what her
‘training’ by her Japanophile uncle actually entailed. The film then becomes
less of a story of theft by deception, and more a tale of revenge (which
Park does so well) by the demeaned and objectified women at its centre. The
third part reveals whose plan it is that really comes into fruition.
The two lead actresses give compelling performances; they are, as Count
Fujiwara remarks in the film, ‘mesmerising’. Kim Tae-Ri is delightful as
Sook-hee, a hard-boiled, smart-ass thief whose emotions get the better of
her and who becomes the film's only trustworthy moral centre.
As the impassive object of desire, Kim Min-Hee is riveting. Sook-Hee refers to her as a ‘helpless innocent’ and subsequently as a ‘rotten bitch’, and she convinces as both, and adds further nuances with subtle and fascinating skill. Both of them adroitly and lightly convey even the most melodramatic aspects of the movie.
The Handmaiden allows the viewer to become captivated by the
romance between these two women as their tentative advances grow into
passionate encounters, but, the scenes of sexual consummation unfortunately
indicate too obviously that we are watching a film directed under a straight
male eye.
[ READ MORE: New Release Review - Dark Glasses ]
[ READ MORE: New Release Review - Dark Glasses ]
The sex scenes are the most problematic aspects of the film. Initially,
they appear to be seen from a genuinely erotic lesbian perspective, but, as
they become more graphic, they also take on an oddly clinical aspect and
become an array of lesbian sex positions. Certainly this may be a reference
to the erotic woodblocks that Hideko's uncle collects, but as much as
director Park Chan-Wook declares that The Handmaiden is an
attempt to criticise the violently erotic male gaze, the result is
undeniably voyeuristic and undermines his argument.
As he says, “While making the film, I constantly asked myself, 'Am I just
making this film for the male audience so that they can gawk at two naked
women? Is that the kind of film that I’m making, a movie to make a buck
where I can show some nude bodies? Is it something the audience will see
that way?' I constantly asked myself and checked myself.” Perhaps he should
have asked Sarah Waters to check him instead?
Admittedly, it is a difficult line to walk - deconstructing the male gaze does not necessitate prudery, but Park forgets about private, intimate, sexual joy and concentrates a little too much on the voyeurism. Possibly the most erotically charged scene in the film involves little more than a thimble and a tooth. When it comes to the subtext, some of the more difficult thematic questions are skirted.
The Handmaiden is difficult to define - it is imbued with
sex, violence, revenge, double-crosses and perversion. This is a world in
which everybody has a hidden agenda. The film’s twists and turns are dark,
grotesque, occasionally surprisingly sweet and amusing, and the story
expands far beyond its initial premise.
The film is visually gorgeous and constantly captivating thanks to the
lush, atmospheric cinematography, again by Chung-hoon Chung. The
story offers the kind of material that brings out the strengths of Park
Chan-Wook’s filmmaking, although here he is concerned as much with emotional
as physical violence. The domestic setting hides many secrets which are
gradually revealed, with the underlying currents of menace prevalent in
Park’s work and, as ever, taken to extremes.
The Handmaiden is on MUBI UK
now.