Oldboy

Revenge is pointless in 2003.

As I'm gathering myself, trying to find my reason to live in this vast emptiness that is life, it's time to review yet another Korean film. Because why not?

That way the emptiness is temporarily filled up with something.

I'll probably spoil it if you haven't watched it yourself, so there. A warning.

Starting off, I found the movie somewhat uncomfortable to watch. That's probably intentional. There's plenty of gnarly scenes involving scissors, hammers and things. But I also found some other scenes less disturbing than they're probably supposed to be.

I think the main carrier of the story, the hard edge, is the question about the morality of revenge, incest, and the context-specificity of it all.

This is exactly what people have trouble swallowing in real life as well, it seems: if the framing is everything, then it is difficult to see the relevance of what is underneath it. If you take revenge once, then why not twice? And if the victim also takes revenge, then you two'll just never stop, will you?

And if you bang your sister out of love, what's so wrong about that?

I'll tell you: it's the feeling of disgust that overwhelms you just thinking about it. If you don't have that, then there's nothing I can say to change your mind.

After all, it's the feelings in the film that inform the protagonist it's right to take revenge, and so he's led astray.

And yet, it's those same feelings you're experiencing all the time, telling you what's what. So, whose feelings are justified, and when exactly would that be?

I remember contemplating this only about seven years ago: I remember thinking about why we have these precise notions about right and wrong instead of some other ones. I thought about democracy and whether justice is by its very nature democratic; I thought about the democracy of feeling and surface impressions, and how pointless it is.

That would be the tyranny of the majority, in a nutshell.

I mean, it's also possible to just throw your own self-righteous attitude into the trashcan, stop that drivel about societal issues, and believe your feelings are forever justified.

Does it sound like I'm saying it wrong? Perhaps you think this is a contradiction?

Well, do you think justification is found in the act of redemption?

No. Instead, feeling is the only feedback you get about the world that is not twisted by a false morality you impose on others and the political system. You don't really need utilitarianism. You don't really need Kant. Just do what you feel is right. Now, that is what a true devil's advocate would say.

But can you deny it? Primal urge is on equal footing together with high reason.

That would be the tyranny of the majority, unpacked.

Either you feel the way you feel because of what you know, or you feel the way you feel because that's an inexorable part of your identity. The part that tells you where to go.

Truthfully, I think it is more dangerous to think it's all about you than it is to think it's all about what you know. It's what you know makes you feel a certain way.

And that would be the smartypants tax: with every refinement comes further alienation. And so, the counterposition is immanent and alluring: savoring a little danger never hurt anybody. Why shouldn't I just have a little taste?

And so it is in the movie, too: it was delicious, lustful and hot the first time, but then the protagonist learned who she was. And it was shocking, terrible. The knowledge broke his mind like an egg, thrown against a brick wall.

That's what happens literally every time, I'm telling you. Unless you learn first, fuck second. And it might still break you, come to think of it.

A powerful medicine indeed.

Clearly, the movie has some layers. First of all, there's the title, Oldboy, the idea that these are boys, not men. Obviously, this echoes some deeply seated sexual frustrations because of all the testosterone, so on and so forth. Whether this was the idea, so as to frame the events in order to underline the humanity and the fatality of it all, I'm not sure. Probably, yes.

But to me, this interpretation would feel loaded. Because it's obviously due to the script, not because of human nature. Which actually leads us right back to the identity issue.

And indeed, perhaps if it wasn't for his true identity as the father, it wouldn't have been so shocking either. It's his identity that propels him into action, and it is his identity that breaks him, and perhaps, it will be what ultimately kills him; is he going to continue his perversion? Is he able to forget, and keep drilling? Because the daughter still loves him, you see, and now their earlier, lived life is cast in stone, forever haunting his subconscious.

Could be that loss of identity isn't so bad. I know this intimately myself; if being you is the most painful thing in life, it's better to be nothing at all, think nothing at all, and just keep going through the motions. But is it truly better than death? After all, it's the antagonist killed himself after finding his life was left completely empty, despite achieving success.

The film makes the mouth a tool of destruction. But to me, it's not the mouth per se. It's just that each of us is the locked door between this world and hell. We have to keep hell in check.

And the hypnotist is used as the final tool to bury the truth, because even cutting out your own tongue wasn't enough. And perhaps that's the only thing veridical about hypnotism in the movie, since you can't really make someone fall in love hearing a ringtone; that's why I kept thinking "maybe she's supposed to stand in for something, like a symbol", but I couldn't really figure out for sure what that something would've been.

Maybe the hypnotist is a stand-in for modern institutions. Seems plausible enough. After all, you need those just to keep sane and happy with yourself, marinating in your own dumb psychology. That's my best guess.

Everybody knows that, and yet we keep repeating ourselves anyway.

Oh yes, repetition was an important part of the film. It's in the music, the feelings, and the colors. I really needed that second viewing to see the latter; it's the red that grounds him in his false sense of agency, and the purple is the fatal, antagonistic influence; Woo-jin's color. It's the red blood that spills from the chaos he's sown. I think the blue might be "cold realization", but I'm actually not sure about that. I might need a third watch some time later.

However, let me tell you what I didn't think: the locked room as metaphor; the plot as an allegory; the purple as control specifically; the hypnotist as fate. Those are all boring interpretations.

Here's a much cooler idea: think about how the colors mix; the blue is cold hard truth, the red is the protagonist. Together they mix to make purple, which is the inevitable disappointment and death, the ultimate tragedy of life. So you struggle for a bit; it's all in vain.

Or, do you still remember the chakras? In popular lore, red is the one for existence, blue is truth, and purple is the Crown Chakra, the one for supreme wisdom and final liberation. Remembering that almost waters it down a little. Is death a liberation or no? Sooner or later, it must be.

The idea that others laugh with you is eventually proven a lie. Each and every time.

9/10, pretty good. Pretty Buddhist.