Oldboy

Perhaps the most widely known of Chan-wook Park's Vengeance trilogy, Oldboy tells the story of the imprisonment and subsequent vengeance-quest of Dae-su Oh (Min-sik Choi). Dae-su is something of a middle-class nobody until he awakens one day to find himself trapped in a single room; little does he know he'll be held there for fifteen years. We watch as he first experiences fear and desperation until finally he resolves to train himself and escape, turning almost full circle within the confines of his cell.

On regaining his freedom he embarks upon an investigation for the truth...or is it for revenge? Indeed, that question is kept at the forefront of the viewer's mind as with every step Dae-su draws closer, he must reconcile his own unquenchable lust for violence with his need for answers. Even the relationship he strikes up with Mido (Hye-jeong Kang) serves only to temper briefly his single-minded passion for the truth. As he draws closer to facing his punisher, the sartorially slick Woo-jin Lee (Ji-tae Yu), the blood begins to flow more freely, and with it, our own concerns that Dae-su Oh might not want the truth once he gets it.

The overtones of classical Greek tragedy are unmistakeable. Oldboy comfortably sits in a great tradition of drama in which a desire for vengeance might drive the protagonist out of his mind; so too, the final punishment that Dae-su Oh must inflict upon himself seems on first viewing disapproportionately harsh for the crime for which he discovers he earned imprisonment. Yet, a more considered viewing suggests that there are no winners or losers in Oldboy, as each and every character suffers in one way or another. Dae-su Oh is the perfect tragic hero, both for his hubris and for the sympathetic humanity he still evidences throughout the film; but the sufferings of Mido and Lee are no less compelling, even if the latter comes off as a poor shadow of a foil to Dae-su.
Cinematically the film is engrossing, too. Chan-wook Park's ability to weave innovative camera angles and techniques with a thrilling and moving score and characters that are eye-catchingly watchable is a heady mix. There's an all-encompassing colour wash and style to the film that drew me in from the start and left me fixated. Indeed, it's essential that the viewer is made to watch, and forced to behave as Dae-su Oh once did in watching things he shouldn't, so that we are witness to various crimes and misbehaviours throughout the course of the film. The infamous live octopus scene, for one, demands that we keep our eyes open, even though it's thoroughly repellent; when Lee offers his final coup de grace when facing down Dae-su, we have been a party to Dae-su Oh's crimes. It's that forced involvement, brought about by so subtle yet complete an immersion in the action, that's utterly chilling.
A masterpiece of involvement and questioning; I was left shocked, distressed and stunned by an apparent 'fairness' in the final tip of the scales, even though I did not want to feel that way. Fantastic.

~~~
2003

Min-sik Choi, Ji-tae Yu, Hye-jeong Kang

dir. Chan-wook Park

Sister Pelagia and the Black Monk

The second of Boris Akunin's Sister Pelagia novels proved to be just as much, if not more, of a treat than the first, Sister Pelagia and the White Bulldog. Beginning in medias res and immediately from where the first book left off, we are plunged into a tale that is structurally and suspensefully superior.

As Sister Pelagia and the Bishop Mitrofanii thought they had finally got to the bottom of the mysteries surrounding Mitrofanii's aunt and her bulldogs, they are confronted by a monk who has sped from New Ararat, a monastic community within Zavolzhie, Mitrofanii's province, to report that St Basilisk, the site's patron, is now haunting the region and warning monks of grave danger in the area. Pelagia of course wishes to investigate, but Mitrofanii feels that this is no matter for a woman, especially not a superstitious nun. Instead, he dispatches a series of other representatives. First, his protege of sorts, Andrei Lentochkin, whom Mitrofanii is keen to convert to Orthodoxy, makes his way to New Ararat, but his letters report failure, and eventual sectioning in the local mental institution. Second, the chief of police, Lagrange, a clear-headed man of courage and action, who meets with his death. Finally, Mitrofanii's trusted advisor, Matvei Bentsionovich Berdichevsky, the third member of Pelagia and Mitrofanii's inner counsel, sets out to get to the bottom of things. He too suffers a reversal of fortune.

All is left to Pelagia, and her ingenious use of disguise, to try to work her way to the bottom of the mystery. But time is against as Mitrofanii, after so many failures, succumbs to a debilitating heart disease and is laid low in his bedchamber. On arrival at New Ararat Pelagia quickly realises all is not as it seems, as the militaristic community veils many oddball characters and crazed individuals, and the lines between the madmen of the institution and the townsfolk are hardly drawn at all. Assumptions and false accusations lead her down a torturous path, where every new revelation throws up further questions and challenges to her, all building to an exciting crescendo - can she find out who has been masquerading as Basilisk, what his message really means, and save Berdichevsky and Lentochkin before it is too late?

A riveting read. I can't wait to get my hands on the third part, Sister Pelagia and the Red Rooster. In the meantime, I've ordered the Fandorin novels to keep me going!

***

by Boris Akunin

Sister Pelagia and the White Bulldog

First published in Russian by Boris Akunin, I picked up this translation of the first in a series of books that followed on from Akunin's success with his Erast Fandorin novels. Here his new protagonist and investigator was no longer a Sherlock Holmes hero of derring-do, but a nun, Sister Pelagia, who teaches literature and gymnastics at the local convent, and is relied upon heavily by the bishop, Mitrofanii. Rounding off the trio of core characters is the loveable Matvei Bentsionovich Berdichevsky, converted to Christianity, assistant district prosecutor and father of thirteen. These three form the heroes of the novel, champions for justice in their distant backwater province of Zavolzhsk.

The plot follow two strands: Mitrofanii's aunt asks him to find out who is killing off her beloved white bulldogs, bred for their pure white coats except for one brown ear, their squatness and above all, their slobberiness. It seems like a petty request from a mad canine sympathiser, but Mitrofanii sends Pelagia to investigate, just on the off-chance something is awry. At the same time, recently arrived from St Petersburg is a canonical inspector, sent to cause trouble and stir up discontent in the province, by hook and by crook.

Fans of the Fandorin series have suggested that the leisurely pace of the Pelagia novels is a disappointing change; however, I found myself fully engaged not only with the characters, but with Akunin's wit in relating provincial Russian of the 19th century so wonderfully. It was brought to life for me by the manner in which the lazy laidback nature of the province was mirrored in Akunin's own conversational and humorous style. Other reviews have described the Pelagia novels as workmanlike. I can think of no higher praise, and it certainly highlights Akunin's artistry in bringing together such a relaxed but involving story. I'm now onto book 2, Sister Pelagia and the Black Monk - so far it reads as intriguingly as it's predecessor.

One final point. At one time in the story a certain Mrs Polina Lisitsyna arrives on the scene. She is everything Pelagia is not - glamorous, demure, highly sought after and beautifully turned out. Pelagia groans when she hears that Polina is to be involved in the investigation. I won't reveal the twist, of course, but well worth the wait.

***

by Boris Akunin