David O'ConnellBreathless
August 14th 2009 06:30
Breathless is a dazzling one-man show. The amazing Yang Ik-joon juggles myriad duties, acting as the film’s writer, director, producer and star. The end result is an in-your-face exposition of life in the darkened crevices of Seoul’s back alleys; a brutal and profane assault on the senses in the form of social realism not seen thus far from South Korea.
Sang-hoon (Ik-joon) is a despised, but feared, heavy for a local loan shark. He’s an enigmatic, perplexing creation: a foul beast sporting a constant stream of offensive verbal tirades. For this man, intimidation and physical punishment are arbitrary tools for dealing with the world, the only form of expression he knows, and not even children and women are excluded from his wrath.
In flashback he’s shown to be haunted by the tragedy of his family’s ugly past. His violent father’s treatment of his mother, which ultimately had devestating consequences, seems to have gone a long way towards engineering his own tendencies. This is obviously a man with fundamental ‘issues’, though a more complicated portrait evolves in time.
Sang-hoon’s life undergoes a change when he finally comes up against somebody audacious enough to refuse retreat in the face of his bullying. The unlikely antagonist is a hard-nosed schoolgirl, Yeon-Hue (Kim Kot-bi). She too suffers from a fractured family life. Her war veteran father is losing his mind to memory loss and acute paranoia, with accusations regularly aimed in Yeon-Hue’s direction; her contemptible brother regularly threatens her with death for not handing over their father’s money. This domestic dysfunctionality has created a necessarily hardened shell and her reaction to first contact with Sang-hoon – when he carelessly spits on her - is a surprise to them both.
An odd, unconventional kinship develops, though the rigorous verbal abuse - often in jest - remains in place. Sang-hoon’s tentative desire to become more instrumental in the life of his young nephew creates a stronger link between them too. Despite the glint of hope surfacing from the raw, unforgiving environment, the sins of the father it seems must ultimately be repaid by the son.
Breathless (Ddongpari -2009) is admirable for its uncompromising scope and gripping naturalism. Even its strongest emotional elements are dealt with the hard-edged sword of reality, ensuring sentimentality reamins a dirty word in Ik-joon’s universe. Though not expressly compiled for shock value, the cumulative effect of brutal domestic violence and misogyny has the same influence. The intrusive, hand-held camera work and gritty verite style work to startling affect, producing an uncomfortable intimacy that begins to saw away on a gut level.
That Sang-hoon achieves the status of anti-hero is a miraculous feat of craftsmanship. Ik-joon sets this crude, battering ram of a man before us, wallowing in the ugliness of this world and yet he’s able to extract a halting, confounding portrait of humanity from its seedy underbelly.
He utilises biting black humour in a side-splittingly irreverent manner at times in his carefree, reckless creation of Sang-hoon and the constant danger he poses to those around him. But is the violent tough-guy persona merely an act?
Breathless is a truly exceptional film, and startling vindication of Yang-Ik-joon’s diverse skills both in front of, and behind, the camera. Yet, currently without a release date, there’s a chance this may be consigned to Festival only screenings and not seen by the audience it deserves. Yes, it may suffer from its 130 minute running time but for me the depth of immersion in this unforgiving world and its outlandish provocation counteracts any perceived sluggishness in the screenplay.
In whatever format you can track it down Breathless will be worth the effort. It’s unforgiving, daring, confronting and ultimately incredibly moving. A rich and rare cinematic vision from a fascinating region of the world that continues to impress.
Breathless screened as part of the 2009 Melbourne International Film Festival
Sang-hoon (Ik-joon) is a despised, but feared, heavy for a local loan shark. He’s an enigmatic, perplexing creation: a foul beast sporting a constant stream of offensive verbal tirades. For this man, intimidation and physical punishment are arbitrary tools for dealing with the world, the only form of expression he knows, and not even children and women are excluded from his wrath.
In flashback he’s shown to be haunted by the tragedy of his family’s ugly past. His violent father’s treatment of his mother, which ultimately had devestating consequences, seems to have gone a long way towards engineering his own tendencies. This is obviously a man with fundamental ‘issues’, though a more complicated portrait evolves in time.
Sang-hoon’s life undergoes a change when he finally comes up against somebody audacious enough to refuse retreat in the face of his bullying. The unlikely antagonist is a hard-nosed schoolgirl, Yeon-Hue (Kim Kot-bi). She too suffers from a fractured family life. Her war veteran father is losing his mind to memory loss and acute paranoia, with accusations regularly aimed in Yeon-Hue’s direction; her contemptible brother regularly threatens her with death for not handing over their father’s money. This domestic dysfunctionality has created a necessarily hardened shell and her reaction to first contact with Sang-hoon – when he carelessly spits on her - is a surprise to them both.
A strange friendship
An odd, unconventional kinship develops, though the rigorous verbal abuse - often in jest - remains in place. Sang-hoon’s tentative desire to become more instrumental in the life of his young nephew creates a stronger link between them too. Despite the glint of hope surfacing from the raw, unforgiving environment, the sins of the father it seems must ultimately be repaid by the son.
Breathless (Ddongpari -2009) is admirable for its uncompromising scope and gripping naturalism. Even its strongest emotional elements are dealt with the hard-edged sword of reality, ensuring sentimentality reamins a dirty word in Ik-joon’s universe. Though not expressly compiled for shock value, the cumulative effect of brutal domestic violence and misogyny has the same influence. The intrusive, hand-held camera work and gritty verite style work to startling affect, producing an uncomfortable intimacy that begins to saw away on a gut level.
Yang Ik-joon is a creative powerhouse
That Sang-hoon achieves the status of anti-hero is a miraculous feat of craftsmanship. Ik-joon sets this crude, battering ram of a man before us, wallowing in the ugliness of this world and yet he’s able to extract a halting, confounding portrait of humanity from its seedy underbelly.
He utilises biting black humour in a side-splittingly irreverent manner at times in his carefree, reckless creation of Sang-hoon and the constant danger he poses to those around him. But is the violent tough-guy persona merely an act?
Breathless is a truly exceptional film, and startling vindication of Yang-Ik-joon’s diverse skills both in front of, and behind, the camera. Yet, currently without a release date, there’s a chance this may be consigned to Festival only screenings and not seen by the audience it deserves. Yes, it may suffer from its 130 minute running time but for me the depth of immersion in this unforgiving world and its outlandish provocation counteracts any perceived sluggishness in the screenplay.
In whatever format you can track it down Breathless will be worth the effort. It’s unforgiving, daring, confronting and ultimately incredibly moving. A rich and rare cinematic vision from a fascinating region of the world that continues to impress.
Breathless screened as part of the 2009 Melbourne International Film Festival
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