“Hopyo” by South Korean director Na Hong-jin was screened at the Cannes Film Festival. It can already be called one of the most radical films of the festival – and not all viewers were able to watch it to the end. This is an incredibly dynamic film, based on the police chase of aliens, where it is not easy to understand what is happening and who is shooting whom. Film critic Anton Dolin talks about his impressions of this film.
Audiences left the evening premiere of Na Hong-jin’s “Hope” in Cannes in a state of excitement, screaming and laughing nervously. We are, of course, talking about those who survived to the end: many slammed the door indignantly, without even waiting for the middle of the session. Not everyone can withstand two hours and forty minutes of constant pursuit by village police officers of foreigners (and vice versa). “What was it? How did you get into the competition? – Many people asked such questions. Some with a tinge of delight, others with horror.”
Now I wonder what answer the author’s compatriot, the first-ever Korean president of the Cannes jury, Park Chan-wook, will give. Once upon a time, a similar shock was given to his hit film “Oldboy,” which won the Cannes Grand Prix from the Quentin Tarantino jury and launched the director’s international career. At the time, the comic book symphony of revenge seemed either outrageous or a cheerful slap in the face of good taste; Today it is recognized as a 21st century classic.
Another Korean director, Bong Joon Ho, has witnessed a similar development. At the beginning of his career, Cannes audiences stared in bewilderment at the “Host” (in Russia it was released with the shameful title “Invasion of the Dinosaurs”), but several years passed, and the brilliant “Parasite” won festival and Oscar awards.
Na Hong Jin is a little younger than his colleagues, and has fewer films – “Hope” is only the fourth. This is primarily due to the legendary perfectionism of the director, who spends months shooting his films and polishing them for years. It has been a full ten years since the release of the previous film, “The Howl.” During this time, the budget for “Hope” rose to a record for Korean cinema.
By filming slowly and slowly, Na Hong Jin reached the highest point in the Cannes hierarchy for the first time – the main competition. Management led him to this for a long time. His three previous films were also screened here, albeit in different sections. He is truly a unique talent. An amazing mastery of rhythm, a special sense of humour, the ability to dissect genres familiar to the audience, and change them beyond recognition. In his debut “The Chaser” (2008) he did so with a detective story about a madman, in “The Yellow Sea” (2010) with a gangster film, in “Howl” (2016) with a horror film about evil spirits. It’s sci-fi time for an alien invasion.
Nadezhda is a geographical name, the name of a fictitious settlement near the North Korean border. The local police chief, arrogant hero Beom-seok (Hwang Jung-min, famous for his role as the shaman from Howl), discovers a bull in the middle of the road, killed by an unknown, but clearly dangerous, predator. The tooth and claw marks seem inexplicable; Hunters suspect that the tiger came from the mountains of the DPRK.
Events unfold quickly: within minutes, Nadezhda turns into a post-apocalyptic maze of terrifying ruins, filled with the mutilated corpses of local residents, although neither Beom-seok nor the audience has seen the monster yet. However, it is already clear that no tiger can do this. The best hour of the film is the first hour, because what is most frightening and intriguing is the invisible threat. The heightened suspense and unseemly dynamic action are captured by the camera of distinguished cinematographer Hong Jin-pyo (“Scream,” “Burning,” “Parasite”).
In the end a giant, ruthless monster is introduced to the audience, although the secret of its origin, not to mention its inexplicable goals, vitality and cruelty, remains hidden. The action stops briefly for a useless dissection (the creature’s internal organs are in no way human-like), and moves to the nearby forest, a picturesque mossy expanse where Na Hong-jin delivers one of the most impressive horse chases in cinematic history.
The hunters, led by Beom-seok’s second cousin, the brave Song Ji (Zoo In-sun), gradually discover that there are many monsters, varying in size and degree of bloodthirstiness, and hidden among the jungle is their spaceship – an impressive metal sphere filled with mechanisms of unknown purpose. The heroes don’t have time to find out what’s what. The main thing is to survive and defeat the invincible enemy.
Characters multiply, and a woman appears among them – the most intelligent and effective of all, Song Ae (the whole world knows the model Jung Ho Young from “The Squid Game”) – but this does not contribute to a greater understanding of what is happening. Any problems are forced to be solved on the go, along the way, with amazing speed. There is no time for words and thoughts when you constantly need to shoot, attack and fight back.
Na Hong Jin feels and understands better than most people the kinetic nature of cinema – the art of moving images. Here he goes all out and completely replaces narrative (be it plot content, philosophical, social or psychological content) with entertainment. “Hope” is his most entertaining and superficial film, but also his most artistically extreme.
Sometimes there is no doubt: the author is making fun of us. For example, the description of the first meeting of a wild ginseng collector with foreigners is full of unnecessary physiological details – just at the time of the meeting, grandfather had diarrhea. Soldiers who survive and continue fighting even after being mortally wounded die in the stupidest of ways from an accident. The supposed heroes act like village idiots, but we manage to feel undeserved warm feelings towards them.
This cannot be said about the international stars listed in the credits. Michael Fassbender, Alicia Vikander, Taylor Russell, and Cameron Britton play aliens, so we won’t see their faces or bodies under the CGI makeup at all. It seems that Na Hong Jin has taken revenge on all the Hollywood producers who cast prominent Asian artists in empty, meaningless cameo roles in blockbuster films.
It is difficult to consider “Hope” a complete mainstream, but for the sake of a pure artistic gesture, a lot of money, time and effort was invested in it. Some images are reminiscent of James Cameron’s Avatar or Ridley Scott’s Prometheus, others are more likely to conjure Bruno Dumont’s fantasy empire or Vladimir Sorokin’s fantastical prose – the exotic names Aidovor, Vamigere or Maveiyo worthy of his pen. In the course of a single scene, you can experience fear, discomfort, laughter, and fear again. It is impossible to determine here the “correct” reaction, what the author expects from us. Not a movie, but an unknown monster from another planet.
Of course, his fundamental recklessness is also evident. You won’t hear any deep sayings from the screen; Beom Seok and his comrades are simply unable to do such things. However, just one scene in which the heroic cop and his buddy kill an innocent man instead of the monster and then chalk it up to “collateral damage” speaks volumes.
The site was chosen intentionally. As in Park Chan-wook’s “Joint Security Area,” Lee Chang-dong’s “Burn,” and Bong Joon-ho’s “Parasite,” the proximity to North Korea is a clear reminder of the hatred and threat: rusty posters warn of spies and enemies, and the city is surrounded by minefields and miles of barbed wire.
American cinema has always produced alien films in which humanity unites in the face of a common threat. Typically, this decision has served as a metaphor for organized xenophobia, because the alien, the “alien,” is a generalized “other.” Na Hong Jin, without delving into the mysterious psychology of strangers, makes their arrival an occasion to examine human behavior. The director varies his style from film to film, but his interest in the overarching theme remains constant: the search for the source of evil – the absolute, impenetrable blackness, capable of destroying our plans and illusions overnight. In Hope, the evil that comes from without—from somewhere in another galaxy—competes with the everyday, inner evil that is familiar to us all on a fundamental level.
It is a sad and funny sight: people frantically seize the opportunity to open fire and open fire without having time to see the target. Their first instinct is to strike, shoot, kill and war to the end with any inexplicable phenomenon – their natural modus operandi. “Hope” fits organically into the apocalyptic sci-fi streak of recent years, looking at our future with the greatest doubt and, in fact, the least hope. After all, the point is not how dangerous the crews of spaceships descending from the sky are for us, but what qualities we discover in ourselves, what instincts we cannot suppress.
The film’s title has another possible explanation. As it turns out from the recent exchange of notes, the aliens have certain hopes of revenge, which means the story is far from over. This means that if the film is a commercial success, we can hope for a sequel.