“Blockbuster” as a word is a Baudrillardian nightmare, a copy of a copy of a copy. The original term’s meaning was lost in 50 years of non-meaning or meaning something else.
Like millions worldwide, I went to see Avengers: Endgame last April. The film felt more like the result of a cold, calculated buildup of 10 years and 21 films than an exciting new movie that made people line up.
Last Sunday, a long line formed in front of the ByTowne Cinema, with hundreds of people waiting to watch Parasite––now that felt like a blockbuster.
Excitement for Parasite generated after the film swept festival season (with the exception of Venice) and was widely touted as a masterpiece.
Director Bong Joon-ho has delivered, and not just to a critical audience—this is a movie with something for everyone. Parasite is funny without making gags, horrifying without jumpscares, philosophical without being verbose.
The film tells the story of the Kim clan, a poor family living in a basement dwelling. Fate finally turns their way when their son gets a job tutoring the daughter of the wealthy Park family.
Lying about his sister’s identity to get her a job, Kim Ki-taek, the movie’s protagonist, and his sister embrace the hustle and his parents gain employment, sucking the life out of the family, which you could say is like a parasite.
Over time, the Kims leech off of the Parks. Things begin to snowball when they find out the Parks’ former maid was doing the same.
The story is grimly hilarious, broaching the subject of class while showing off its cinematography, excellent production design, and subtle editing.
The film is set in a house, so the cinematography is not sweeping landscapes. Parasite shows that cinematography is so much more than the easily Instagrammable shots of a Wes Anderson movie, for example.
Sometimes film culture fails to remember that cinematography is about so much more than the aesthetic. Camera distance, use of space, angles, shadows, highlights. Simple principles of photography—emphasized in a moving camera to tell a story to show the fictional world.
This is why this film is award-winning and should be respected. You could watch Parasite on mute and understand every single plot point, the camera panning and always moving the story along.
What higher compliment of a film is there, than a film being perfect aside from its excellent dialogue. The camera moves and shows what the players see, and edits when they can’t see what’s going on. Joon-ho and Co. seem to have a perfect knowledge of when to be subjective and when to be omniscient.
The camera doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Of course, the film is a symphony.
The most obvious visual refrains of the stairs in the house are an example of the tremendous production design, which was a wholly complete soundstage to scale the size of the house instead of multiple sets built and torn down.
This seems like a small detail but had a very positive effect on the film. When discussing editing, we so often talk about being able to tell that the film took place in real time. Parasite takes this a step further by showing the power of telling a film in real space.
When the camera moves from one room to another it feels just like that: one room to another. Not a bunch of sound stages stitched together with green screens. This gives you that living room feeling, conveying the familiarity of family life.
Being a foreign production often makes you shy away from these themes or think it’s not for you. But this movie is about everyday things, social inequality, greed, jealousy.
This year, it’s the movie we need.
The irony is that in North America, film theorists are having existential crises as mega-corps like Disney stomp on the face of small theatre owners. Now, a Korean film has come around to remind them how twisted the world is.
A dark, difficult film such as Parasite is a rare to find nowadays, with a big budget, difficult themes, and a smaller release schedule. Aside from directors with last names like Tarantino, Scorcese or Nolan, that’s hard to find in North American studios.
The long line in front of the ByTowne Cinema on a cold November afternoon shows there is demand for this kind of movie, and that people will turn out for this kind of film.
Feature image provided.
