[K-FILM REVIEWS] 추격자 (The Chaser)

Like a vulture hovering over its prey with menacing subtlety, the darkly fostered rays of the night often become a creature of their own, enveloping man and his darkest instincts, dreams and fears in a doddering mist of charming ambiguity. Silence becomes noise, single steps become marauding hordes of invisible foes. It's like opening, if for an ever so brief moment, the gates of a parallel world, where instincts replace logic, and it's dark enough not to be embarrassed by one's dreams, inner lights and demons. So elusive and nebulous is the night, so full of flair and passion expertly hidden by the dark. So romantic and fascinating it is, it populates the dreams of those who think at 24 frames per second, or measure their life by its page count. The Murnaus of the world, showing their cinematic teeth to the camera through the Grand Guignol, or Sam Spade and Harry Lime, Oh Dae-Soo and Park Du-Man.

When it comes to great thriller, horror or noir films, the night reigns supreme. And, ironically enough, it's in the pitch black darkness of 2008 Chungmuro that the first sparks of a possible revival could be seen. Whether we're dealing with the passing shock of a falling star, or the opening fireworks of a much more shining future, that is up to karma. What's for sure is that 추격자 (The Chaser) is a raw, brutal fireball thrown at the Great Wall of Korean cinema's new and increasingly unnerving IMF crisis. Can it tear down the whole thing and let the creative fluids flow through once again? That I don't know, but oh mama. If this is the hell we're getting, fire walk with me.

It was about a week after shooting had started, a mere half dozen of the eighty five shooting days in the tank, for what would be a guerrilla-like tour de force. For productions like these, where going overbudget and overschedule is like dancing naked near the enemy frontline, preparation was everything. Nine tenths of the film were shot at night, and we're dealing with the very brief, sticky and ridiculously hot nights of the Korean summer. The crew had to run around the capital to find back alleys and neighborhoods fitting the image of the film (they even ended up shooting in Busan), and setting up lighting and all the various elements in a so densely populated area with so little time didn't allow any leeway for mistakes, or even worse lose oneself in debate. But that particular day, it wasn't the case.

Kim Yoon-Seok's career in some ways reminds of a cross between Choi Min-Shik and Song Kang-Ho. Born a mere four days before the star of 반칙왕 (The Foul King) and 괴물 (The Host), the two even acted together for a while, as part of the same theater group in the mid 90s. Kim had actually started as a stage producer in the late 80s, but crossed over to acting in 1989, after which he became one of Daehak-Ro's most shining veterans. Of course "shining" is just a symbol of appreciation for that amazing generation of theater actors, who eventually ended up making their fortune in the film world. But, back then, theater wasn't exactly a hot potato, and struggling for months for an often ridiculous paycheck was the norm.

Just like Song, Kim started his film career in a rather quiet manner, with a few small roles in films like 범죄의 재구성 (The Big Swindle) and 울랄라 시스터즈 (Oh! Lala Sisters). What brings him closer to Choi Min-Shik, then, is the fact he made a name for himself through TV first, something Song doesn't seem to have much interest in. Choi now avoids TV dramas, with perhaps the most striking indication of his new slant coming from his not answering Jung Ha-Yeon's calls, when he wanted to offer him the lead role in 신돈 (Shin Don), which later was majestically handled by Son Chang-Min. But Choi actually did some of his better and most underrated work on TV, on things like 서울의 달 (The Moon of Seoul) and 그들의 포옹 (Their Embrace).

Similarly, it really took dramas for Kim Yoon-Seok to get noticed, both on a mainstream and critical level. As far as the latter goes, his work on several short dramas from the Dramacity staple showed how great an actor he is, particularly his scary turn in the masterpiece 제주도 푸른밤 (Blue Nights of Jeju Island). And then the mainstream noticed as well, when he took that monstrously fascinating supporting role in 부활 (Resurrection). What happened after that is mostly well known history, from his impressive Agwi in 타짜 (Tazza: The High Rollers) to his surprise casting in a Daily Morning Drama, which showed he doesn't really seem to discriminate much, if the role is good enough (which it indeed was, just like his acting. Too bad about the rest of the show).

Movies are directors and producers' playing field, a place where the writer's voice is only powerful if it coincides with the man sitting on the director's chair. Actors tend to have a lot more freedom in approaching their characters, and there's more space to debate, even while the shooting goes on. Dramas are the exact opposite, with most of the power coming from the writer's pen, particularly when it comes to veteran writers like Kim Su-Hyeon. Very little ad-lib, and especially a limited acting scope due to the medium's shortcomings, but also a great training ground for what could seem like everyday, pedestrian reaction acting. Adding a third dimension to Kim's acting was his background in theater, where ensemble acting, and using your whole body to convey emotions move a performance, so he had all ingredients to become a chameleon-like actor. The problem, then, is that along with it you develop a sort of stubbornness about acting. Positive all right, but not when there's forty people waiting with camera in hand, for what might be the only twenty minutes left before it starts raining and you have to wrap everything up.

Oh yes, Kim Yoon-Seok and director Na Hong-Jin eventually had a little diatribe. How "little" it was, only those who witnessed it can say, but it was serious enough to stop shooting for a while. It's about one of the first few scenes in the film: Jung-Ho (Kim) keeps calling Mi-Jin (Seo Young-Hee) on the phone, right next to her car, but she doesn't pick up. Kim wanted the character to act as if someone was observing him, while the director thought showing Jung-Ho's state of mind through small and detailed gestures would have better conveyed that feeling. They obviously didn't want to make a mess in front of the entire crew, so the two headed for a back alley to talk in private. The result? Guess what. Screaming. Given the atmosphere, they just had to wrap up. Picture the morning after, quite early. Director Na was more or less dressed like how Ha Jung-Woo's character approaches Mi-Jin inside the bathroom, undergarments the only article of clothing. The phone rang emphatically. It was Kim Yoon-Seok.

What he told him, as Na pointed out on several interviews, was so thrilling it almost moved him to tears.

"You were right last evening. I thought about it all night, and I finally realized. I won't yield in the future myself if I disagree, but you should never do that either. Never lose no matter what happens, because the moment you yield, our film yields along with you."

That point alone, more than the torrents of praise which inundated the Korean film world after the film was released, explains what set this film on fire. In a way, it's that unyielding spirit shown by three people in particular which started the little legend The Chaser has become. Of course dozens, over a hundred people including the entire, brilliant cast is responsible for this half miracle, but if one needed to single out three factors making this a success, Kim Yoon-Seok, Kim Soo-Jin and Na Hong-Jin would instantly come to mind. Why The Chaser was so well received in Korea, especially by industry insiders, doesn't merely deal with the film's quality. This, in fact, represents the return of real film people making films the way they used to back before the boom's bubble burst.

Not CEO types with M&As, accountants and lawyers from venture companies or entertainment conglomerates throwing some stars and a committee script on the screen hoping it would stick and bring them big bucks, but the sweat, tears and (sometimes fake, at times even real) blood of people who love what they're doing, and just hope they'll make enough money out of this to continue doing so. The Chaser is Chungmuro unplugged, without the Korean Wave-influenced chicanery, the flag-waving sensory overload and "if we don't sell 10 million tickets you're all dead" ominous vibes that permeated way too many recent projects.

Producer Kim Soo-Jin of Bidangil Pictures went around with this film's script for a year, trying to convince most of the major investors that it was worth making, but the answer was always no. The reason? 1) it was a film about a pimp and a serial killer with no stars, even though box office has shown more than once that it's not the stars who bring in the big money nowadays; 2) it was too dark and meaty, something investors try to avoid at all costs these days. Even if something like 고死 (Gosa: Bloody Midterms) gets completely trashed by critics, making low-key project films at low-medium cost, hitting the break even point and possibly even attracting some foreign buyers (extreme still sells, I guess) still looks a lot more risk-free than banking on a really good film made by people who know what they're doing. But Kim Soo-Jin is not your average producer.

Other than The Chaser, all Kim's Bidangil Pictures has produced so far was the lovely satirical sageuk 음란서생 (Forbidden Quest) from 2006, but her dramatic rise up the ranks and twenty year long career in the business tell a much bigger story. She entered the business in the late 80s, and with the few million won she earned from 낙타는 따로 울지 않는다 (Camels Don't Cry) went to Paris, fell in love with Leos Carax's Les Amants du Pont-Neuf , and decided to screen it in Korea. She did make good money, over a billion won over its theatrical release; but in the old system, with regional distribution ruling the roost, all that money ended up in the hands of slimy local distributors, who conned her out of her cut. Between those early nineties and the beginning of Chungmuro's boom, Kim Soo-Jin worked in a couple of Jang Sun-Woo films, notably 꽃잎 (A Petal), and fought hard to bring European art house films to Korea, but almost ten years in the business didn't give much in return, unless you consider debts, tears and fatigue a worthy payback. She just packed her bags and moved to the US for a long six years, where she started working for the AFI and later for Warner Bros. Worldwide. It's all those vicissitudes which probably made her a marathon runner, one of those fighters who never give up.

Perhaps out of luck, Kim met an old acquaintance of hers, that Kim Seon-Yong who just started Vantage Holdings, a new investment company. He surprisingly accepted to invest in the film, when everyone including big names didn't want anything to do with it. She asked for 4.2 billion, but after continuous negotiations, the final budget was agreed for 3.15 billion, not exactly a large canvas to paint with, and the ominous suspicion they'd eventually go over it looming in the corner (they did go over, but just by 600 million, as without the 2 billion for marketing the film cost a mere 3.75). What Kim also did was holding back director Na a little, perhaps a smart move considering what he planned to do. It wasn't stylistic censorship, but more twenty years of experience telling her your protagonist hitting his foe in the climactic finale with someone's severed head would instantly turn something that needs to make money into cult material. And Jang Joon-Hwan knows all too well how cult material gets treated.

What Kim helped director Na with was letting the overall message come through in a more striking way, substituting a lot of the gore Na wanted on the screen with realism, and that "social flavor" which makes the film feel a lot more like an unplugged, pissed off noir that has no time for embellishment and genre tropes, more than simple cat and mouse thriller. The script went through thirty revisions, many of which helped refine what was an already very strong starting point. Whether Na wanted that core subject to tower over everything else, or to be an added flavor to all the gore and raw power of his first oeuvre, is something only he and producer Kim can answer. But the fact it echoes so strongly from every corner and angle of the film shows how productive the endless revisions and changes this creature went through were.

You could think that simple core subject might be the chase itself, a sort of laid-bare version of 인정사정 볼 것 없다 (Nowhere to Hide) sans all that visual orgasm. But the bigger theme enveloping the film is angst directed at the system, making chase, chaser and chased assume different colors, or better shades of gray. The idea of the serial killer reminds of the infamous Yoo Young-Cheol, a sort of Korean Hannibal Lecter turned into reality, after he killed over 20 people between call girls and wealthy old men in the years between 2003 and 2004, admittedly mutilating and eating parts of his victims before he was arrested and condemned to death.

But the idea of catching the serial killer is not really the point, just like catching the culprit in 살인의 추억 (Memories of Murder) wasn't. The idea of "chasing" that something reminds of people becoming beasts inside a jungle that only permits them that kind of reaction. They're chasing whatever is left that belongs to them, that explains their existence, that puts a certain meaning on whatever they're going to do tomorrow and the day after. And, when push comes to shove, morality increasingly flies out of the window, or gets buried in the sand. That, the moral ambiguity the films oozes to make its point, is the strongest element at play in The Chaser.

If what moves Young-Min (Ha Jung-Woo) to perpetrate those brutal murders is filling a certain void (and I'll stop there with spoilers) only such behavior can fulfill, what Jung-Ho does is not really a "bad guy really has a heart of gold deep down, so he needs to find the damsel in the distress, to start a better tomorrow as a model citizen" type of melodramatic twist. The guy begins the dances with a devilish grin, followed by a "if I catch you, you're dead, you fucking slut," what do you think could move his chase? Someone is stealing "food from his table," the police can't do squat about it because of the system, and as the blood starts covering the streets, there's also liters of sticky, itchy responsibility slowly drowning him. It's a sort of moral symmetry, an equally ambiguous pairing where you can only differentiate between dark and darker. Sure, Young-Min nails prostitutes in the head with a hammer, and Jung-Ho is just a former detective who makes ends meet selling lust. But, sure enough, the deeper the jungle gets, the more the two start resembling each other, until that final, insanely powerful confrontation.

The film ably goes around the problem of moral ambiguity (if that's a problem) by giving a soul to everyone, including detectives. The authorities are refreshingly real, swearing up a storm when the system forces them out of bed, complete with bad hair, to deal with the repercussion of their own job; or inside a van, at night, staring at the mayor of Seoul while an over-excited citizen throws shit all over his face (I bet that former Seoul mayor now living under the blue-tiled roofs of that big house enjoys the satire), instead of having the leeway to worry about real criminals roaming the streets at night. It points fingers at an establishment which maximizes profits and the art of saving face on the big stage, only throwing out the morality plays when they can make the big headlines. Even the killer himself becomes a victim of this arena of lies, of democracy that only works on paper, and rules that only benefit those who have enough cash to handle whatever the law think today's truth is. That is the major reason this film sold five million tickets despite being as far from the mainstream as possible. It speaks about what people are feeling but can't say, and throws that anger against the system on the screen with brutal honesty.

Only envisioning it inside some limited genre paradigm, wondering why the former darling of the short film circuit, director Na doesn't bother much explaining why Jung-Ho quit his job as detective, what moved Mi-Jin to choose that line of work, or really what created the kind of monster Young-Min has become will make this seem like a mixed bag, even a misfire. But stop focusing on genre tropes, on narrative conventions, and those details will start creeping up in the background, sometimes just oozing from the walls, becoming a smell you can feel, painting that city of darkness with gray colored shadows. The message of this film becomes a character of its own, attacking the viewers with all those primal instincts, from anger to greed, stress, that suffocating brand of madness mixed with sorrow that hits when people are pushed to become virtual gladiators in an arena populated by the smirking vestiges of what is in all essence still a glorified oligarchy.

The Chaser puts on the screen the frustration and fighting spirit, the energy and sorrow which permeates the Korea of these days. It does so in an incredibly dark, almost sadistically realistic way, removed from fancy and stylish embellishments. The entire cast, from the monumental performance by Kim Yoon-Seok to that increasingly scary Ha Jung-Woo (when he went, sottovoce, half laughing and barely uttering "I didn't sell them, I killed them," I just wanted to get up and hug the screen. How insanely talented is this guy?), from the sad eyes of Seo Young-Hee (let's just cut to the chase: perfect casting) to young little Kim Yoo-Jung.

It's not perfect, as it shows all the little flaws (nothing major, it's mostly small details which often have to do with personal preference, such as the bits about Young-Min's family feeling unnecessary) a debut cannot help but suffer from, but for a first time director to achieve something so strong and relentless in delivering its message on his first outing is close to a miracle, and a pretty big reason why Na has become one of the hottest names in the industry right from the beginning. In a period when most Korean films are busy chasing viewers around with preposterous ideas of what makes for proper filmmaking, Na Hong-Jin let the viewers chase him, chase that charisma which oozes from the film, the enthusiasm and realism, that feeling that you're experiencing something special, the meaningful message it throws at the viewer. That energy which Chungmuro missed for so long, and finally made its long awaited comeback in The Chaser. It's just fire, folks......

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PRESENTATION
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The last time I had pleasure in watching a Korean DVD with English subtitles perfectly coincided with one of the last DVD reviews I wrote for ScreenAnarchy (during the summer of 2006), it being the five-part 왕의 남자 (The King and the Clown) special. That is, an equally marvelous and baffling mix of Shakespearean banter and creative translation, getting a fat 9.5 which probably will never be topped, and spoiling me enough not to expect anything from any English subtitle on any Korean DVD for the next two years. That's the long way of saying I'm not really the best person to assess the current level of English subtitling in the Korean DVD market. Or, maybe, a creative way to say that, during the last two years, I cared about watching Korean films with subs as much as examining the mating habits of Tarbagan marmots.

For way too many DVD companies doing business in any market, subtitling often feels like a last minute hack job given to either translation experts fresh off their sixth grade Romeo & Juliet play, or Arirang Tv types who really think the English they're using is not the most ridiculous banter any human ever uttered in ye olde tongue. And, as a consequence, way too many films are spoiled for people who, for whatever reason, cannot climb the ever elusive walls of that Babel tower. I don't believe a single bit in the "universal" quality of films, if anything in the sense that films completely stripped of their local flavor are mostly insipid, quasi-Hollywood pap, and that there's films you just can't understand without some background cultural base. So good subtitles are crucial, although a minimum of background knowledge can help.

Something like 궁녀 (Shadows in the Palace) or 혈의 누 (Blood Rain) loses immensely, if you're not well versed in Joseon history. Similarly, a lot of the charms of something like 다찌마와 리 (Dachimawa Lee) (short and, apparently, feature) will be lost on anyone who has never heard of Park No-Shik and Heo Jang-Gang, didn't have the pleasure of seeing the machismo kitsch of Korean action films (where the Japanese baddies spoke in accented Korean), or the ADR folly of those crazy 1970s Chungmuro. Then again, sometimes you can enjoy a film even without those fundamentals, even if the final experience will lose a few details in the process. 추격자 (The Chaser) is exactly that kind of film.

Keeping in tune with the matter-of-fact style of director Na's visuals, the dialogue is very colloquial but never basking in excessive slang. There's nothing particularly hard to translate here, moments where the differences between the two languages start to be felt in the extreme. And that simplicity is reflected in the English subtitles. You'll have no problems following the story, there's no major omission that can castrate scenes, but that's where the praise ends. This is like asking for some raw filet mignon, and getting a few pounds of tenderloin thrown at you by a bloodied butcher instead (then again, that would fit with the film's atmosphere, wouldn't it?). We're talking about very rough subtitles, which eventually do the job but lack in detail and keep things way too simple. Sometimes the details getting lost make some scenes feel superfluous.

For instance, there's a scene where Jung-Ho inspects the inside of a car, to find whether it belongs to his 4885 friend. The camera pans on the registration number, shows the name of the car's owner, and his national ID number. The reason Kim Yoon-Seok swears out of the blue is not because he just had to protect the 2 four-letter words per minute quota. It's because that ID number starts with a 38. Which, unless Ha Jung-Woo looks incredibly younger than that 1938 birth date on the ID suggests, moves Jung-Ho to think that is not the guy's car. Subtitles couldn't bother. Scene wasted. There you go. Are we so lazy even writing 13 numbers with a dash in between gets bothersome?

Other than that, there's really nothing much to complain in terms of presentation. Video quality is solid if not impressive, particularly considering there isn't much light in this film, and all the chiaroscuro photography could have had some more detail to work with. Also, with a Dts track and two commentaries taking space, the 5.1 track feels a tad insipid, so go for the Ok-yish Dts and forget about it. All in all, despite the cash & carry style subtitles, not too bad. Doesn't completely give justice to the film, but doesn't ruin it either.

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EXTRA FEATURES - DISC 1
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AUDIO COMMENTARY WITH DIRECTOR NA
HONG-JIN, KIM YOON-SEOK, HA JUNG-WOO

Perhaps one of the reasons I prefer commentaries with the director going solo is that he/she's forced to carry the entire show, so you sort of feel a weight on your shoulders, the urge to say something other than mere reaction-commentary (as in "we did that for that scene, and then this and that"). You feel a lot more freedom to go deeper than if you'd been sharing the mic with another couple of actors, but also realize you can't just spend 90 minutes making the same comments over and over. When it's a group commentary, if it's a case of the three-four members sharing a close relationship (from having worked a few times together, or just a normal friendship) this can even erase the impact of the whole commentary, because they've lived together for months and shared such an intense experience, it's like asking a couple of friends to describe each other to the camera.

If you set aside those who really seem to enjoy the medium, particularly Ryu Seung-Wan and Bong Joon-Ho, a lot commentaries with parties of three or four end up being rather pleasant but empty excursions into a past those actors are probably trying to forget already, getting ready for their next work. And, in many cases, you'll have actors sitting down in front of a cold beer to talk about essentially the same things they mentioned over in the interviews, since the budget for extras on DVD doesn't allow for too many multiple arrangements (and the interested parties, particularly actors, wouldn't have much time to spare anyway). So it's a lot of "this was a set; it was so hard to shoot there; that guy really did great" type of filler. If the atmosphere is all right, like in this case, you can sort of follow along for the ride and get to the end relatively awake, but then again it sort of defeats the purpose of recording a commentary at all, if all you have to say is scene-specific commentary.

Perhaps the most striking piece of info, and one which was repeated pretty often, was the use of CG in the film. For such an "unplugged" work like this, you'd think there would be minimal use CG. But the film used over 300 cuts of CG, which were completed in an impressive two weeks. The bulk of those shots dealt with the characters talking on the phone while driving, or just conversations inside the car. Ha Jung-Woo commented how much of a headache it was to act in front of a blue screen and a fan blowing air in his face, while having to convey the sensation of movement. But they evidently did a marvelous job, as few people would have noticed it wasn't material shot on a moving truck. Then again, if you consider the more detailed driving scenes were handled by the actors themselves (such as Seo Young-Hee driving with Kim Yoon-Seok near the beginning), it sort of makes sense.

Another example of the impressive production values was the dirty bathroom where Mi-Jin first gets assaulted, which not only was a set, but it even had running water like a normal bathroom. Enduring those scenes was a complete hell for Seo, as she basically had to shoot for twenty hours, mostly with her hands and feet tied behind her back (it took too long to get her back into that position), with the added awkwardness of having to shoot half naked, sticky fake-blood all over her body, touching ice-cold floor tiles while she had to act out a pretty intense scene. On various interviews Na explained that, in the storyboard planning stage, Ha Jung-Woo was going to be completely naked for that scene, but they later decided to add the bare minimum, as it would be too difficult to keep... things out. Still, to help out Seo in this touchy, overbearingly long scene, he stood around the set in his underwear for the entire duration of that shoot. Twenty hours dressed like that, no matter if he was monitoring his work, taking a break and having some snacks or just resting. That's professionalism for you.

AUDIO COMMENTARY WITH DIRECTOR NA HONG-JIN, D.P. LEE SEONG-JE, MUSIC DIRECTOR KIM JUN-SEOK, LIGHTING DIRECTOR LEE CHEOL-OH, SYNC RECORDER KIM SHIN-YONG

You know, one should always listen to their mothers.

Even at the tender age of eight, His Grumpiness yours truly was already very prone to preconceptions and throwing temper tantrums for the silliest things, unless he was in deep sleep. But she, in all her infinite wisdom and patience, along with the prospect of bribes in the form of "I'll buy you a new football, the one they use on TV," knew it wouldn't be the horror of all horrors if I indeed went. Hell, it would prove quite beneficial in the long run. But, ha! No way. The little devil would lock the door of his bedroom and rather tune in to Star Trek: The Next Generation. I'd rather see Marina Sirtis overact her way out of every single small situation, or Jonathan Frakes manage to boldly go where no man had gone before, while at the same time hitting on just about everything resembling a female, from Earth to planet Hakuna Matata 18NOM. But then again, there are times when a man shall answer the call of destiny. Especially when it hurts so much going all Rucker Park on your head, courtesy of the wall, would be less painful.

So I sat in this Blade Runner-like room all in white, hearing the kind of sounds that would have made Black and Decker proud coming from the other room. And I thought... ah. Abandon every hope, ye who enter. It was small, but noisy. I'd imagined something Tremors-like, but it was scarier because of its size. Kept moving. And didn't talk, unlike the other 4'-tall specimen dressed in white and smiling at me. He goes "sit here comfortably." The very last words, especially as right next to this sci-fi like seat was some kind of artificial fountain, ready to explode whenever I got close to it? The last sip of water before terror, I guess. And then the ultimate request. Oh mama. You'll have to get me more than a new football. Those crazy fools asking to open your mouth, and putting that Black and Decker... thing inside. They call them dentists. The little devil somehow survived, and the water from the fountain wasn't even poisoned. Wow. That was kind of fun?

This instead, hmmm. Wasn't. Nope. Put five grown ass film people inside a room and they should explode on the mic about their creature. After all, they lost sleep, skipped meals and spermatozoon archery contests (before the Olympics, at that) because of this; some of them became famous, some others will get more work from now on, generally everyone is proud of their work. But then, why were these 2 hours and some odd minutes worse than that root canal removal I went through at eight? They open pretty well, debating that the vast amount of very brief, tight shots not only was a quick way to shorten the timeline, but it was also a stylistic choice. Then, for most of the remaining two hours, they lose themselves in banalities that don't really add much meat to the cooker.

I mean, do I need to hear a lighting director and sync recorder say for the twenty hundredth time that "those elders really had a tough job during the shoot, we're really thankful." Really, enough to screw up my DVD commentary for that? Folks, we know the Korean DVD market is dead so, allegedly, nobody should give a Capuchin monkey's buttocks if a commentary stinks; that most of those people were brought there probably against their wishes (forced is a big word, I guess), and this was likely recorded right before going out for drinks. But I don't see the need to limit the film's audio tracks to throw in an additional, pretty much useless commentary track that didn't add a single thing to the mix. If you're like Ryu Seung-Wan, Bong Joon-Ho, Park Chan-Wook and Co., that is people who know how to work around that thing called commentaries, you're more than welcome. Otherwise let's just skip this. It only looks good on the special features list.

They did interestingly talk about the way music was used, meaning that a lot more was produced for the film, but the director decided to only use a minimal part as a sort of counterpoint or transitional vehicle from one moment to the other, instead of the Hollywood-esque carriers of everything that is emotional and grand. But that really could have been dealt with through a five minute video interview. Spread over two hours of little comments and half assed dialogue, it's like root cavities, but with the dentist who's supposed to remove them enjoying the sight of cows pasturing in the grass while he's on his vacation in Switzerland. And that is pain, whatever Marina Sirtis says.

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EXTRA FEATURES - DISC 2
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NOTE: Major Spoilers

프리 프로덕션 (Pre-Production) [12:29]

Quick, and to the point interview with director Na Hong-Jin about the motives behind the film. It's not really a pre-production featurette per se, where you have them talking about the preparation process or the casting, and it often spills into discussions about the shoot, but it's a nice little intro. Director Na starts mentioning the input which started the film were a series of murders, one of a Korean killed in Iraq, the others back in Korea (he's probably referring to Yoo Young-Cheol, since he mentions the year 2004). In both cases those victims were abducted, so the idea started from trying to visualize what they'd feel in that situation. He thought something, a kind of energy for survival would have moved them, pushing them to fight for their survival just like Mi-Jin does in the film. He thought they'd have a sort of hope and expectations about coming out of this predicament, but then external influences would crush such hopes.

Kim Yoon-Seok and Ha Jung-Woo jump in, commenting how fresh and different the script felt, which moved them to join the production, and D.P. Lee Seong-Je mentions how this kind of script had the potential to highlight several traditional genre elements, while at the same time saying something meatier about the subject they were talking about. Regarding Ji Young-Min, Na highlights his dualism, that you could never believe what he was telling you, nor you could tell from his appearance he'd be a serial killer after all. Through the jungle of hills and back alleys, they tried to create an organic whole, making it feel like a real neighborhood, despite going around Seoul to find all those locations. It had to ooze the feel of familiar streets, the kind of you walk on while going home.

And that is how he closes this little clip, saying he hoped people would go back home after watching the film, and reflect on events like these, which do happen for real but are often sensationalized to the point where the people involved become just numbers.

프로덕션 노트 (Production Notes) [22:32]

Watching director Na handle the interviews part of these featurettes, one gets the suspicion he doesn't really enjoy the idea of just going off on a tangent and talk freely about the film. When you read him in interviews, he tends to be very articulate and direct with the real pro's (Kim Young-Jin, Lee Dong-Jin), and kind of turns into a slightly conventional interviewee when we're dealing with lesser interviewers, if anything because they don't give him enough input to come out by himself thematically. Then again, hearing what the crew has to say about him, it might just be his personality. Very direct, no words wasted, getting to the point straight from the beginning. Doesn't make for a tremendously fascinating interview (unlike the print/online ones on Film2.0 or Cine21, especially when half the cast joined in midway), but I guess it gets the job done.

That is what you could say about this featurette. Everyone more or less says what you expect, and if you can understand Korean what you've probably read already online, but as an independent interview it brings forward the important points, without getting too deep into details. Ha Jung-Woo opens saying that, while preparing the film, he thought the film would eventually directs its focus on a more dramatic, documentary-like feeling, more than simply sticking to genre tropes. Director Na confirms this by saying he likes thrillers and watches many, so he wanted to go in a completely different direction, or at least keep those genre fundamentals to a bare minimum.

What we have essentially is a film with two villains as protagonists, with the only difference being that Young-Min crosses the line, and Jung-Ho doesn't. That "line" is something Na referred to on many of his print interviews, having to do with how people deal with social taboos. Of course something like what Jung-Ho does is infinitely less serious than murder, but if you just get the core of it, he's exploiting women to make some money, and while as responsibilities keep mounting on you could feel a sense of sadness about him, it's not like he holds it back in the final confrontation (in some ways, if he really used that severed head to beat on Young-Min, that point would have been driven home in a much stronger way).

What Na wanted to avoid was a legitimization of Jung-Ho's struggles, without the need to embellish his character with explanations about his past, which in turn would humanize him, and highlight what he does in a different light. In that sense, the idea of showing Young-Min's brother and where the chain of violence might make sense, but it draws a flashback to the past which is not entirely necessary. The thing Na was stressing to all the crew was his need for realism, even when it came to music. Kim Jun-Seok talks of how he asked for music that felt organic, not something you use for genre cinema, but more like something accompanying a documentary. It's in fact very basic but effective, stripped to the core and almost solely operating with piano, cello and a few other effects.

The clip ends with a few clips from the Cannes screening, and Na explaining how he thought the Midnight screening went pretty well, and he was satisfied and thankful for the crowd's reaction.

Scene Story [28:00]

This is fun. They take a few really important scenes from the film, and explain the shooting process. We got to see the behind the scenes footage, and interviews with director, crew and cast. Organized like this, it's much easier to watch, and even a lot more enjoyable. You can watch each portion separately, or go with the play all option.

-Title Screen
This was a complicated setting to begin with. They explained in the commentary that they were sitting back on the other side of the road, about 100m from the spot, and just tracked in. Kim Jun-Seok says the director likes guitar so they decided to begin with that, but didn't want to add any other embellishment which would shape, or predict the mood. They just began with a sort of musical incipit, and let the viewers connect the dots by themselves.

-First Meeting/Chase Scene
What they wanted to highlight was obviously the tempo and flow of the chase, and they were dealing with really tight angles, lots of stairs, and generally a very hard environment for shooting (hence the excitement). They tried to stick a "following" tempo, with the camera never getting too close to the actors, and the entire scene took about a month to shoot. It was really hard for Kim Yoon-Seok, as keeping up with Ha Jung-Woo wasn't exactly an easy task (it's not just the age). The interesting thing is that director Na would rarely call NG, as there's even a spot where Ha Jung-Woo falls down, and gets up instantly. That improved realism, so it was obviously a good choice. Kim Jun-Seok talks about their choice of going for percussions, instead of the Hollywood-like pomp of an orchestra or something to that extent.

-Mangwon Police Scenes
The director thought this scene was really important in setting up Young-Min's personality, so they took all the time they needed. Sure as hell went well. Ha Jung-Woo is just too good for words in here.

-Mi-Jin's House
Na wanted to create something a tad different through Eun-Ji's introduction and her last scene, showing something of a bond between her Jung-Ho was formed, without necessarily showing it explicitly.

-Man's House
This is the scene where Jung-Ho follows one of the men who know Young-Min back to his house, and finally finds the painting on the wall. Kim thought the music they used for that was even a little excessive, but the director wanted to highlight that moment for the viewers (in many ways it has a very Bong Joon-Ho vibe, with the flashy tracking out et al), not so much giving importance to the painting, but instead putting the spotlight on Young-Min in an indirect way. Even the way Jung-Ho reacts, says Kim Yoon-Seok, has more to do with his past as a detective, and him finally realizing this wasn't your average scumbag.

-Questioning Room
Another killer scene, with Young-Min getting questioned about his sexual past. For such an ambiguous character, the only way you'd find out if you were getting close to the truth would be to stimulate him emotionally. So, through his behavior and body language, you'd finally get a little closer to the real Young-Min. In acting this scene, Ha Jung-Woo just imagined himself being tired of hearing the same questions, being bothered by the need to answer them.

-Neighborhood Mart
The idea of killing off a character (well, more than one) that way is something many people were worried about, but Na started the entire project on the basis that she's have to die for this to work. Ha Jung-Woo couldn't watch the monitor while doing this, one because of the cruelty of the scene, but also because that could have gotten him even a little bit out of character, seeing something like that.

-Young-Min's Place
Last clip about the final confrontation between Jung-Ho and Young-Min. What the director wanted was a very animal-like feeling, as if two beasts were going at each other. For that reason, they only used basic neon lighting, which gave the proceedings a much more mysterious, primitive look. The actors went through no rehearsals, as they just had a basic outline to know where they'd have to duck, and then went with the flow. They didn't hurt each other, so Kim feels they really worked well together.

쫓기는 자와 쫓는 자 (The Chaser and the Chased) [15:01]

Oh oh, this is closer to my idea of extra features. Just the director and the two actors talking about their characters, very frankly, going in deep about their feelings on the character. Excellent stuff. Wish they extended it to Mi-Jin as well, but then again the title would have changed.

Director Na explains how Kim Yoon-Seok was a great partner to work with on the set, as they'd often debate and discuss the character in detail and felt his presence and sense of commitment about the role. Kim says that he didn't really try to pigeonhole Jung-Ho, but put him in a certain context. He thought of him as a former detective, and hitting that stage in life where most adults cross small lines and borders when it comes to certain ethical matters. So he was violent enough without crossing the line, greedy, selfish, that kind of combination. That's where things started. Very striking is what he tells about Jung-Ho's relationship with Eun-Ji.

It's not just him feeling sorry for the little kid, or growing some fundamental affection for her. The problem is, he's got no one he can leave the kid to, which really highlights even more what kind of man he is, what kind of life he leads. He has no real friends, no human connections beyond the business scope, and Mi-Jin is exactly the same, with nobody to leave her kid to. If Jung-Ho's first instinct was just that of getting bad whatever "food" this person stole from his table, as he learns things might be a lot worse some compassion and sense of responsibility kicks in, along with a sort of primal wish to keep that human relationship he had with Mi-Jin intact (not just on a business level, since she more or less was one of the few people who talked with him).

Na felt Ha Jung-Woo had something innate about his acting, accepting anything you'd throw at him without making much a scene. Ha recalls how Na gave him a book about Korean serial killers, and he learned how their upbringing showed many common traits, mostly dealing with their growth process, and the way their environment deal with their bring different. So he sort of painted Young-Min at this grown up kid, with no sense of responsibility whatsoever, doing whatever he does without realizing the severity of it, and just trying to fix whatever obstacle came in the way.

Deleted Scenes [7:07]
Audio Commentary with Director Na On/Off

Nothing really major here. With such a tight schedule, it's not surprise they had little to throw away.

1#
Starts with the scene where Jung-Ho tells his bald (what do we call him, "underpimp?") to look out and start searching for Mi-Jin. It goes just like in the final film, but before the guy goes out of the car, he shows him his old namecard from his detective days, saying that "if they start bothering you (the cops, that is), show them this."

Our bald friend starts his search, enters an apartment, and knocks at a door. Nobody answer, so he goes to open it. The first door doesn't work, but the second does. A man still dressing up gets out (from "other" activities, I suppose), asking what's wrong. After Mr. Bald tells him "it's the police" and gets a "and the police looks this pathetic?" in return, he heads for his pockets to prove his identity through the namecard Jung-Ho gave him. But, alas, one of the ads with naked girls from the opening sequence comes out instead.

The director deleted the scene for time constraints. He promised the actor he would put this in the DVD later, in the event it would be deleted. Maybe the bit where Jung-Ho gives him the card could have been shown, but the rest is mostly filler.

2#
Police HQ, with the guy who threw shit at the mayor getting questioned. Director thought it was kind of fun, but it eventually was deleted.

3#
Jung-Ho goes looking for Young-Min's family. This is the introduction of a scene in the final film (where some of Young-Min's past is revealed). Another time constraint matter.

4#
Detectives arrive with shovels to find the bodies up the hill. Park Hyo-Joo's character sees the body of the supermarket ajumma lying down in a pool of blood. They deleted this as it would shift focus and break the flow.

프로모션 영상 (Promotional Videos)

Poster Shoot [5:01]
Press Screening [4:53]
Teaser Trailer [1:33]
Theatrical Trailer [2:29]
TV Spot [0:30]

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OVERALL
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Considering the horrible state the DVD market is in, even getting a 2 disc with enough material to fit on two discs (not just split over to make it seem meatier) is a relief. Could have certainly been better, particularly considering how popular the film was, but it's good material with a few really interesting and fun highlights. Shame about the rather insipid tech-heavy commentary and the rather rough subtitles on Disc 1, but unless a Blue Ray comes out, this is not likely to be topped for a while. The film is perhaps the only work from 2008 I'd recommend without a single hesitation - there's other good films, but like 아름답다 (Beautiful), they have little flaws which might irk some viewers - and the sign another really talented director has joined Chungmuro's ranks. His next work is about a man from Yanbian prefecture who end up becoming a killer to put food on the table - titled 살인자 (Killer) - so it sounds like Na will thread similar territory. In the meantime, The Chaser is certainly a must see.

FILM: 8.5
VIDEO: 7.5
AUDIO: 7.0
SUBTITLES: 6.5
EXTRA FEATURES: 7.5
VALUE FOR MONEY: 7.5
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AVERAGE (Film rating counted twice): 7.57

추격자 (The Chaser)
ChugyeokJa [lit. chaser]
BidanGil Pictures/Showbox - 2008
Director: 나홍진 (Na Hong-Jin)
D.P.: 이성제 (Lee Sung-Je)
Music: 김준석 (Kim Jun-Seok)
Release: February 14, 2008
CAST: 김윤석 (Kim Yoon-Seok), 하정우 (Ha Jung-Woo), 서영희 (Seo Young-Hee), 김유정 (Kim Yoo-Jung), 정인기 (Jung In-Gi), 박효주 (Park Hyo-Ju)
Box Office: 5,071,436 Nationwide Admissions