By Nicholas Ware
Some films are about redemption. Some films are about revenge. With the right disposition, Pieta, the 18th feature from South Korean auteur Kim Ki-Duk, could be seen as either or both. Beyond redemption and revenge, though, Pieta is a film about rubble: metropolitan, moral, and emotional. Pieta takes place in a broken, dusty, industrial area of South Korea that is literally waiting for destruction. The residents, underclass machine workers and scavengers, are looking at a future where they are forced out as skyscrapers and mainstream society barrel through. In this dead-end neighborhood, high-interest loan shark money is a temporary reprieve from the suffocating life they lead. Lee Kang-do (a compelling Lee Jung-Jin) does the dirty work of collecting those debts, though more often he simply collects on the injury insurance that his corrupt boss has placed on his clients by breaking arms, gouging hands, or pulverizing ankles. When a woman (Jo Min-Su) claiming to be the mother that abandoned him appears, it complicates his simple life of emotionless violence.
Pieta is a deeply brutal film thematically. It is about callousness and damage, some to the body but far more to the soul. However, Ki-Duk makes a clear and consistent decision by having the gouges, the breaks, and the slices very rarely shown on screen. Instead we see pools of blood, danging legs, and twisted limbs in aftermath (with a few key exceptions). By forcing the violence beyond the edges of the frame, Ki-Duk makes the film seem more violent than it might with gore-splatter effects. The film's aura and spirit is one of cruelty, oppressive but never moving the meter and never spiking. It is depressing, numbing violence, nothing like the cheap-thrills explosions and gun fights of mainstream action cinema. In this dim, dirty circle of hell, the relationships that develop between Lee Kang-do and his possible mother manages to be simultaneously touching, abhorrent, and heart-achingly sad.
While Jung-Jin does an admiral job, the film belongs to Min-Su. Her performance is mesmerizing, starting out quiet and afraid and growing more complicated and more unsettling as the film nears its inevitable end. As Lee Kang-do blossoms into the child he never had a chance to be, Min-Su's mother figure develops into a woman whose nurturing side is distinctly at odds with her plans for the future. The leads received massive praise at last September's Venice International Film Festival, with the film receiving the Golden Lion as the top film.
Pieta is a great film, but not an easy one. Those unfamiliar with South Korean films and their acting style might find some of the scenes unintentionally comical. Despite a large amount of violence being kept off-screen, the general atmosphere as well as some on-screen scenes of sexuality are deeply disturbing. The title itself, a reference to a sub-genre of art that depicts the Virgin Mary holding the dead body of Jesus Christ, strongly signifies the darkness that the film holds. However, for those who can sift through the rubble on screen, Pieta is a harrowing and impressive film.
Pieta plays as part of the Florida Film Festival on Sunday, April 14th at 5:15pm at Regal Winter Park Village B. 104 min. Unrated, but hard R-equivalent for numerous acts of violence, cruelty, and disturbing sexuality. For more information on the Florida Film Festival, click here.
