Director Chan-wook Park, a visual mastermind who concocted the intoxicating Stoker in 2013 (a loose remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s superb Shadow of a Doubt), his first, and to date, only English language film, follows it by putting his talents into making another striking, intricately plotted psychological mystery/thriller in The Handmaiden.
Loosely based upon Sarah Waters’ novel “Fingersmith”, the filmmaker moves the tale from Victorian era England to 1930s Korea – which is under Japanese colonial rule. Divided into three parts, he utilizes the technique to great effect, providing us with only part of the story each time. In many ways it’s like being given a puzzle with only the edges to start with, so we think we understand what is going on, as we have been given the outline, but only truly gain a stronger appreciation of its complexity and beauty when provided with the pieces that fill in the whole picture. Park’s unique style slowly divulges the true essence of this film by providing alternate angles, different perspectives, flashbacks and flash forwards (those essential remaining puzzle pieces).
Sook-Hee (Tae-ri Kim) is an attractive young woman, a Korean pick-pocket who is descended from a family of criminals (her mother was a famous thief). She is hired by a man who has built an intricate cover story, pretending to be a Japanese Count, Fujiwara (Jung-woo Ha), though, in reality, he is an impoverished Korean much like Sook-Hee.
Building a clever caper of a ruse, he has ingratiated himself with a wealthy Japanese family (pretending to be a prolific artist and teacher). Though the money truly belongs to the young heiress, Lady Hideko (Min-hee Kim), her home and finances are controlled by peremptory Uncle Kouzuki (Jin-woong Jo) until she marries. It is said that the aberrant uncle (a book collector) is looking to marry his young niece by marriage.
Sook-Hee takes on the persona of Tamako, pretending to be a handmaiden to the innocent and youthful Lady – her main job is to persuade the wealthy woman to fall for and marry the ‘always present saviour’, Count Fujiwara. The strategy is: when they finally elope, the maniacal man with the unconscionable plan is going to place her in a Japanese mental institution, leaving him as the sole benefactor of her unimaginable inheritance.
Stepping into the magnificent and more than glamourous mansion that is part British manor, part traditional Japanese home, Sook-Hee is in awe of her surroundings, as well as her mistress. Confounded by her complex mission, as she soon begins to have feelings for her employer, she is also mesmerized by the expensive clothing that she is allowed to wear and the costly jewellery that is gifted to her Lady – immediately ensnaring the eye of the thief. To return once again to the lavish house, it will inspire the architect in you. Secret passageways, hidden floorboards, Feng shui inspired architecture at one turn; gothic features round the next, the locale is, itself, a character in this sordid tale. Confinement (to the home) and freedom play an integral part in the story.
Park, with intricate brush strokes, paints each scene with an artistic quality, with exteriors feeling like classic landscapes, while the interiors echo the work of a master painter. Nearly each moment, if paused, provides the viewer with a piece of art, that, if framed on your wall, would not look at all out of place. There are few filmmakers who have said skill – another that immediately comes to mind is the legendary Stanley Kubrick (think 2001: A Space Odyssey).
Feeding off of so many emotions, the film’s main core is that of the planned heist of sorts, though it has so many other facets. Like a pristine diamond, each cut provides a new angle to gaze at. Slashes of violence jump off the screen, erotic moments permeate throughout (making it a multifarious romance), there is a certain perversity to many a scene (making it controversial in more than one way), while also being a love story. There is also a haunting aspect to it, an aura that leaves the audience transfixed. Partially coming from the eerie tale told by Lady Hideko about her aunt hanging herself on the aged tree sitting outside her window, as well as the startling blackouts that occur in the house, yet more from the mood that is built by the filmmaker, which is beautiful but austere, atmospheric while serene, jarring yet erotic, it is an intoxicating slow-burner that lingers in your mind during and long after. Somehow subtle (glances, looks, soft touches) while also being blunt in its violence and sexuality, it is unfathomable, surreal and majestic. Intensely philosophical.
An astute observer of film history (and former film critic), Park pulls from innumerable sources, though despite doing so, creates a very original piece of cinema. Clear odes to Alfred Hitchcock’s first American film, Rebecca, abound, with the horrific aspects, its secluded mansion and characters echoing said piece. Horror is referenced by way of a peephole, reminiscent of another Hitchcock classic, Psycho. The edgy sexuality brings to mind the controversial Japanese film In the Realm of the Senses. Revelling in its gothic atmosphere, there is also some Edgar Allen Poe here. Facets of film noir appear as well (voice over narration anyone – from three different characters for each of the triptych segments). Thus, perspective also tells us more than we first thought.
A complex tale of love and deceit, The Handmaiden is best experienced when knowing as little as possible (hence, the limited amount of plot points discussed). Each and every plotted twist and turn takes us in a new and more compelling direction. Rich characters are drawn by Park (who co-wrote along with Seo-kyeong Jeong), with each actor elevating his or her game to provide nuanced, captivating personas. We believe in their cockiness, their greed, their perversity, their confusion, their shy ingenue ways, their love – sometimes, to our own detriment. So, finger this motion picture, and make sure to inhale its intoxicating ambience, it rings the bell as being a true modern classic.