With hardly a word of English dialogue, Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-ho‘s Parasite has infected American audiences through its stunning portrayal of the dynamics between two Korean families. From the opening scene to the closing, Parasite holds audiences in a grip of searing intensity. I cannot recall a movie that has captured my attention quite like this masterpiece of cinematic achievement.
Parasite’s opening scene reveals the Kim family’s chaotic basement apartment, which sits at the end of an alleyway on the gritty streets of a working-class Korean neighborhood. Out of work, the family scrapes together by taking on odd jobs like assembling pizza boxes, while college-age Ki-woo and his sister Ki-jeong determinedly search for work. Ki-woo gets a lucky break when his wealthier friend proposes that Ki-woo take over from him as an English tutor for the daughter of the upper-class Park family. The Park family lives in a sleek, gated mansion in the hills overlooking the city, with a housemaid and a driver at their disposal. With a bit of document forgery and tactful impersonation, Ki-woo gets the high-paying job as a tutor for the Park’s daughter and subsequently begins conning the Park family into hiring his sister (under the guise of an art therapist), his father as a professional driver, and his mother as a housemaid. The Kim family gradually accomplishes clandestine integration into the Park household by systematically pushing out the old staff by framing them for various acts.
As members of the Kim family delve deeper into their false identities, their secrets make for comedic scenes as they collaborate to hide their true identities from the Parks at every turn. However, dark comedy turns abruptly to barely-contained chaos when the old housemaid Moon-gwang knocks on the door as the Kims are drinking whiskey one night in the Park household. Moon-gwang distraughtly reveals that she “left something in the basement,” and the Kims reluctantly let her in from the rainstorm to retrieve it. Moon-gwang opens a hidden door to an underground bunker beneath the basement, revealing her emaciated husband. She pleads with the Kims to keep her secret, claiming that he had debts over which loan sharks threatened to murder him and that they have little money. Despite suddenly witnessing the exposition of others’ concealed poverty, the Kims threaten Moon-gwang and her husband, then threats turn to violence. As tension builds, secrets and blood spill forth with fierce intensity.
Unparalleled character depth and shockingly vivid storytelling make Parasite worthy of any award available. As tensions boiled over towards the end of the movie, there came no shortage of stifled gasps from enthralled audience members sitting beside me. All watching had quickly forgotten that the dialogue was in Korean because emotions traveled through the subtitles so potently. Such emotion was more potent, in my view, than in the majority of English-language dramas in the past decade. The reason this movie has such a profound effect on audience members lies in its subliminal messaging.
More than just a compelling drama between two families, Parasite makes meaningful social commentary. The film critiques the inflated value those in Korean society - and around the world - place on monetary wealth. For all that the Park family owns, and despite their highly-educated nature, their existence is superficial and they lack meaningful connections to each other. For example, Mr. Park quietly avoids answering each time Mr. Kim asks him the question, “Do you love your wife.” On the other hand, Kim’s family members remain loving and supportive of each other, even as tension turns to turmoil. Yet they continue to descend further into the chasms of their false identities, all in the relentless pursuit of material wealth. Eventually, desperation and defiance bring the Kim family, Moon-gwang and her husband, and the Park family to a startling and bloody point of reckoning. From these events, Parasite paints a bleak picture of deep-seated inequality, resulting from the hands of tenacious greed.
Still, the violent bursts of hope in Parasite show that we are all driven by similar ambitions, and success may reach those determined enough. However, it’s a cautionary tale with a sincere message: We are more than the sum of our material wealth. We are all emotional, complicated humans and what matters is loving relationships and a life with honest purpose. Keeping this theme in mind, filmmaker Bong Joon-ho succeeded in tactfully crafting this uniquely vivid thriller. For this achievement, Parasite is worthy of high praise.