Hansel And Gretel (Korean Film): The Horror Of Whimsy

You know the story. Two children happen upon a house of candy only to be trapped by the resident evil witch who is intent on fattening the children up for her own consumption. The children manage to outwit their captor and ultimately manage to make it out alive, and as it is told, lived happily ever after. What does that mean? Sounds very broad doesn’t it? In fact if anything it offers more questions than answers. Do we live happily ever after post-traumatic event, shaping our lives for years to come?

Director Yim Pil-sung uses the tried and tested Brothers’ Grimm fairy tell as the basis and title for his 2007 horror film in which a father-to-be crashes his car and is rescued by a mysterious lantern-carrying girl who leads him to her cozy, secluded home found deep in the forest he’s woken up in. She and her wide eyed smiling family offer him a place to stay while he recovers from his injuries. With no phone service in the dead of night, it’s probably the best decision he could make right? Only something feels slightly off about this family and their idyllic life away from modern life. As he discovers the next morning, leaving may not be so simple as finding his way back, provided he even can.

Synchronizing the whimsical fantasy of a sparkling fairy tale with tension building, claustrophobic, and inescapable fear, it creates a uniquely unsettling desire to know the secrets of the meticulously designed sets, and art direction lined with paintings of rabbits and stuffed bunnies, children’s toys, a looping cartoon on the circa-1960 television set among many other, overly cheerful and colorful elements. All of the sudden the overcast and cold mundanity of the real life setting we’ve just left behind feels like a refuge compared to the vibrant and fantastical mania our protagonist is trying to escape back to.

The intrigue grows even further when we observe the family. The parents’ facade of satisfaction and perfection isn’t as infallible as it initially seems. The children seem concerned, and protective beneath their overly-positive feedback on life in the woods. The fantastic performances put in by the entire cast adding to the overall feeling of dread and confusion. It is the overabundance of fantasy and the distinct feeling of unreality that is able to grip its covertly parasitic intent around us. Envelop us in mandatory happiness and comfort. And in the excess of good, we, as well as they begin to question the colors and candy more than our hosts would like us to.

The score may be amongst the best I’ve yet heard in Korean film. Mixing amelodic and atonal ambient horror with Studio Ghibli/animated Disney feature degrees of pomp and circumstance that contrast scenes well together between our protagonist’s foraging by himself beneath the bright exterior and the moments in which he is interacting with the denizens of the house. It knows what it needs to be when it needs to be and the result is striking, memorable, and hauntingly brilliant whimsical fear. Lee Byung-woo must be singled out for his compositional talent. It is unsurprising that he is responsible for some of Korean cinema’s best scores.

Narratively it is slow-paced intrigue, never showing it’s hand too soon, the mystery is given a chance to settle into the viewer’s mind through intriguing imagery, enigmatic dialogue and moments of conflict smartly breaking through the illusion of a perfectly harmonious and happy community. Unfortunately it does not do enough to consistently frame our characters in rewarding and naturalistic ways throughout its runtime. In fact the most important back stories are backloaded and dumped out during its climax which is a massively lazy and unsubtle way of doing exposition which ultimately damages it’s final act, unable to pick up the pace when it needed to. It is more concerned with creating and atmosphere and emotion than it is with a tightly written narrative framework. 

For a horror film that attempts to, and largely successfully, balances so many tones intermittently throughout it’s runtime I would say that area of focus is smarter when such a large piece of this work’s DNA. A complex and more involved narrative would have been a recipe for unintended disorientation and overstimulation causing the film to feel unfocused and lost beneath its own increased weight. A very intelligent directional compromise and realization that such a script would be unwieldy for the type of film Yim Pil-sung wanted to make.

Thematically speaking it is not only able to rise above its numerous influences to create something that feels unique, individual and can stand on its own as worthwhile fiction. Authentic love is out there for those who believe in it, but it cannot be forced upon others against their will. At that point it’s not authentic and never even had a chance to be. Through the smattering of real moments between characters we are presented with the difference.

This is a story of resiliency required for personal progression. No matter how much you have been through, and how much it has affected you it is not possible to live rewardingly constantly victimizing yourself, being absolved of responsibility for how you choose to live moving forward, or in this case staying in the past. Fulfillment is possible with strength to break free of the comfortable option tempting us in the back of our minds.

All of these ideas come together to deconstruct the very notion of “happily ever after.” Life is a balance of many complex emotions. An imbalance of negative is bad certainly, but so is an imbalance of happiness or what we try to convince ourselves is positive emotion. The equilibrium is what will set us free and remind us when we need it to that the balance is why life has an ebb and flow to begin with.