SFF NOTES: The Handmaiden (2016, Dir. Park Chan-wook)

When it comes to fully developed characters, Park Chan-wook is not your first cinematic reference point. The same can be said for queer dramas and South Korean cinema; it's a whole lot of move along, nothing (worthwhile) to see here. So, I'm as shocked as the next person that Park has managed to take Sarah Waters' period lesbian pickpocket fantasia, 'Fingersmith' and turn it into a film that is not only rollickingly entertaining but also threatens to enter into insightful commentary on sex and sexuality.

But before I get carried away, let me preface this with a caveat on author intentions. This is a generous reading of The Handmaiden, giving Park the benefit of many doubts even though, if we judge on form, he probably doesn't deserve it. As much as I love his films, especially Oldboy, he doesn't have the best track record on women or female sexuality. I should also point out, riffing off this concern and the fact that both films are mired in the male gaze, Park's film is going to draw comparisons to Abdellatif Kechiche's Blue is the Warmest Colour, most of them probably leading with the line: "Do lesbians really scissor?"

But where Kechiche slunk into the background in his film (some, including myself, would say sleazily), Park foregrounds the ridiculous fetishisation for his audience. His adaptation, which relies almost wholly on a trio of unreliable protagonists, is consciously filtered through, at times even constructed by, male sexual fantasies.

To unpick this too frantically would pull apart some of the film's intricately assembled plotting, not to mention its repeatedly reassessed characters. How it gets gets to where it gets is all part of the experience.

An idea of the jumping off point is enough to whet the appetite and to give a fair (if red-herringed) impression of where Park is poised to take it. Lady Hideko (Kim Min-hee) is a Japanese heiress. She lives with her uncle, Kouzuki (Jo Jin-woong), who plans to eventually marry her. He collects rare books, which he reads to a select audience before selling off forgeries to the highest bidder. He enlists the services of a Japanese Count (Jung-woo Ha) to create the forgeries. The Count is in fact a con man who intends to woo Lady Hideko, steal her away from Kouzuki, marry her, lock her up in a mental asylum and walk away with her fortune. To assist him in his nefarious deed, he plants Sook-Hee (Kim Tae-Ri), the titular handmaiden.

The best laid plans...

The Korean setting has allowed Park to bring additional cultural and historical richness to the original's Victorian location. The film's opening scene recalls the sexual slavery of Korea's comfort women, which doesn't end up being the case here (the scene is one of the first to be reinterpreted), but the hierarchies of social and sexual power certainly do hold sway as intimated. The overstepping of social boundaries becomes as transgressive as the pressing through the sexual ones, and Park signifies these boundaries everywhere, in everything from the costuming to the language; the film's Japanese and Korean is subtitled in different colours to underline the social distinctions.

Visually, too, Park gleefully skips registers. Kouzuki's manor house, with its two wings, one Japanese, one Victorian, allows him to play across genres, starting with sumptuous period drama (complete with the festival's second Mrs Danvers inspired spook) before slipping into more familiar Park territory. The gothic sensibility he put to such effective use in his English language debut, Stoker, returns with an expanded grotesqueness as The Handmaiden pushes towards its blackened core. Even Park's signature octopus gets a cameo.

He doesn't succumb to his usual unfettered misanthropy though. The Rashomon contortions of motive leave ample room for levity. A surprising amount given the depravity Park goes out of his way to burn into the mind's eye. There is also sincere sweetness, Lady Hideko and Sook-Hee's developing relationship deliver up some beautifully imagined adoration. Kim Tae-Ri's endearing performance is central in this, imbuing Park's ingeniously visual character moments with actual heart.

These moments may not amount to depth of character but they're as close as Park can come in a narrative as delightfully convoluted as this. And when all is said and done, the queers come out the other end with their dignity intact, even if it is a little misshapen. Both are acceptable trade-offs in a film this entertaining.

★★★★

Trailer:

The Handmaiden screened as part of the Sydney Film Festival 2016.

You can check out other films from the festival here.