Thirst – a Korean film with bite
Vampires are everywhere in mainstream cinema these days. Once upon a time they were relegated to the catacombs of Hammer Horror land, but they’ve since spread from the vaults to nearly all corners of the world.
The vampire movie is no longer a subsidiary of horror cinema; it is now a genre unto itself, with countless subdivisions appealing to a wide demographic including those uninterested in pointy canines.
Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight novels, and their subsequent cinematic counterparts, have developed vampirism for the emo generation, heavily romanticising the characters whilst holding back on any neck-biting that doesn’t take place in the bedroom.
From Dusk Till Dawn and Near Dark developed the idea of road-movie bloodsucking, and Blade gave us the futuristic, sword-wielding vampire that fights on our side as he tries to battle his own bloodlust.
Recent Ethan Hawke vehicle Daybreakers has a crack at the vampire-apocalypse; a world populated by vampires, where the number of humans, and therefore the supply of blood, is drastically dwindling. The new rulers of the world find themselves in a desperate search for a blood substitute.
As vampire films are produced at a bloodcurdling rate, filmmakers are constantly searching for innovative ways to tell an interesting and exciting new story that is not just a retread of old ground/flight paths.
With his first taste of Western financing, Park Chan-wook has tried his hand at the task. Those familiar with Park Chan-wook will have seen his critically acclaimed ‘revenge’ trilogy, which includes the brilliant and brutal Oldboy. His most recent effort is similar in its blunt exploration of love and violence; the twisting and contorting lives lead by everyday people who find themselves faced with intense questions of morality.
Thirst tells the tragic story of Sang-hyun; a priest who spends much of his time volunteering at a hospital, attempting to ease the pain of terminal patients using the power of prayer. His resolute exterior and devotion to his faith hides his diminishing confidence in the world around him; a world that seems to be submerged in chaos, sickness and death. In a somewhat kamikaze move, Sang-hyun offers himself as a guinea pig to scientists who are attempting to find a vaccine for the EV virus which is sweeping Africa.
This virus has severe physical effects including lesions, and will eventually result in death. Sang-hyun’s act is truly courageous, but tests are ineffective and he succumbs to the disease. A blood transfusion somehow resuscitates the priest, and he makes a full recovery.
Thousands believe Sang-hyun has miraculous powers, and many ask him for help in healing their sick loved ones. Cancer-victim Kang-woo regains his health in the presence of the priest, and begins inviting him round to meet his family and play their weekly game of mahjong. Before long, the fully revitalised and invigorated Sang-hyun is a friend of the family, but he finds himself experiencing strong feelings of lust towards Kang-woo’s attractive wife Tae-ju.
Returning to his volunteer work at the hospital, Sang-hyun discovers that he has developed a craving for blood, which becomes a necessity when he realises that drinking a steady stream of claret is the only way to permanently stave off the virus. His solution is to subtly siphon blood from patients who are comatose, in the belief that such an act is not violent or aggressive, and leaves no physical or psychological harm on the ‘donor’. He also develops inhuman strength and an intolerance to sunlight, but his transformation stops short of any tooth-related alterations. In tandem with his discovery, he begins a sexual relationship with Kang-woo’s unsatisfied wife. Once Tae-ju catches Sang-hyun conducting one of his siphoning sessions, she declares her desire to be a vampire.
This leads the film to much darker places, where Sang-hyun’s ability to differentiate right and wrong in his mutated state becomes tested to breaking point. Conversely, Tae-ju, originally so innocent and pure, yearns for the thrill of catching the prey and consuming its life-force.
The higher state of being that comes with vampirism is examined from both sides, in a harsh, bloody and strangely pragmatic story that is at once romantic and horrific. This is not the Twilight romance where pale teens walk around pretty fields working out who is experiencing the most intense amount of emotional pain. Nor is it the Hostel-style horror where everything in sight must be cut off or bludgeoned within 90 minutes of blood-soaked chaos.
If The Dark Knight is Batman set in the real world, then Thirst is a vampire film set in one of Bruce Wayne’s nightmares. This gritty and realistic movie has a convincing degree of authenticity to support its troubling and surreal storyline. The physical and psychological mutations that take place do not require any massive suspension of disbelief; Park is wise to stay away from letting his vampiric transformations incorporate the questionable concept of enamel-elongation.
The violence is not glorified, and it is not done for shock-value. Park certainly does nothing to challenge his notoriety as a macabre director, but the violence is just; it only serves to add necessary impact and emphasis. The focus of the film is actually directed at exploring the dichotomy of good and evil existing inside one man, and then his battle to fight the singularly psychotic and ravaging beast raging within the woman he loves. It is sickeningly perfect to have a priest turn into a morally confused vampire, whilst his illicit affair with a shy, semi-virginal housewife turns her into an aggressive and unstoppable animal seeking nothing but pleasure and pain.
Song Kang-ho (star of hit Korean monster movie The Host) excels in his role as the troubled priest, whilst Kim Ok-vin is also brilliant as vampire-wannabe and naughty housewife Tae-ju. They perform the genuinely enthralling evolution of their doomed relationship with aplomb, and their contrasting sensibilities are portrayed with conviction and total sincerity.
Unfortunately, Thirst suffers from being a little bit too slow. From an editorial perspective, the film, which exceeds two hours, could easily lose twenty minutes without the narrative suffering in any way. This is a direct result of the film’s slightly self-indulgent edge; it is obviously supposed to be tragic and thought-provoking, but this does not require it to drag as much as it does.
Support comes from Kim Hae-sook, who portrays Madame Ra, part of Kang-woo’s family. She is satisfactorily annoying (on purpose), and when she becomes paralysed and has to signal with her eyes it is simultaneously funny and terrifying. The rest of the cast are reminiscent of a Hammer-Horror movie; their stupidity, obliviousness and lack of characteristic depth endanger the integrity of the film, but thankfully the undeniable brilliance of the lead actors, a meaningful story and clever, quality direction create an atmospheric, beautiful piece of cinema.
Whilst Thirst is not exactly fang-tastic, it has real bite and is certainly worth a stake.
Image: zombiecupcakes
