Korean director Park Chan-Wook is famous for his violent and transgressive thrillers, in particular his “Revenge Trilogy”. After an English-language debut, STOKER, he returns to Korea with THE HANDMAIDEN, an impressive psychological thriller that values subtlety over brute force.
Transposing Sarah Waters’ novel FINGERSMITH from Victorian Britain to the Japanese-occupied Korea of the 1930s, THE HANDMAIDEN opens with a young woman, Sook-hee (Kim Tae-ri), entering into service as a maid in the household of a wealthy Japanese noblewoman. Upon arriving, the head of the domestic staff gives her a Japanese name and advises her on switching languages when around the lady of the house (in an elegant touch, the two languages are delineated through differently coloured subtitles). It’s a sly introduction to a complex world of multiple hidden identities, where people hide their true faces even from themselves.
The noblewoman, Lady Hideko (Kim Min-hee), is being wooed by a Count Fujiwara (Ha Jung-woo), a seemingly besotted suitor. Unknown to her, Fujiwara is actually Korean, and he and Sook-Hee are members of the same gang of professional thieves. Their plan is for Fujiwara to seduce Hideko into marriage and have her committed to an asylum, so they can take possession of her priceless art collection.
The early part of the film is a psychodrama of deception and manipulation, as Sook-Hee plays the role of a devoted servant and tries to hide her developing feelings for Hideko. The mansion and grounds are settings for characters spying on one another from afar; the camera is a fellow voyeur, swooping into rooms and over rooftops as it leads the viewer to each encounter.
…one of HANDMAIDEN’s touchstones is Brian De Palma: the lurid violence and sex, elaborate cons that hoodwink the audience…
The mansion is a character in its own right: split between a traditional Japanese house and English, it functions as a metaphor for the divisions within its occupants. It’s a place of dark corners and hidden depths, including an ominous basement where Hideko’s tyrannical uncle Kouzuki (Cho Jin-woong) holds sway.
Hideko is clearly a fragile and naive character, made so by her sheltered upbringing and her uncle’s treatment. Sook-Hee grows more dissatisfied with the plan as she and Hideko grow closer and fall in love. In the hothouse atmosphere of the mansion, this is a story we understand; a pulpy love triangle with danger all around. However, the story isn’t content to play out to a conclusion from there, and several twists and turns await.
The film doubles back on itself several times, playing scenes over from a different perspective and exposing the layers of performance that each character undertakes. It’s an audacious gambit that works through skillful editing, the cast’s abilities and camerawork that gives weight to a stray glance or unplanned gesture.
If Park’s previous films pay tribute to Hitchcock’s mastery of tension and suspense, then one of HANDMAIDEN’s touchstones is Brian De Palma: the lurid violence and sex, elaborate cons that hoodwink the audience as well as the characters, and virtuoso camera movements are all his hallmarks.
Park’s filmography is concerned with questions of power and how far we go to assert our will over others. His revenge-driven antiheroes do so through violence, while THE HANDMAIDEN’s con artists and aristocrats flatter and seduce. Sex is power in the film, and while Park doesn’t avoid some unfortunate male-gaze elements in the lesbian love scenes, the characters’ desires are essential to their actions.
From the dysfunctional addict couple of his vampire parable THIRST to Mia Wasikowska’s unhealthy attraction to her dangerous uncle in STOKER, Park doesn’t set much store in stable relationships. But while HANDMAIDEN gets in some of his trademark violence and black humour, it’s more hopeful about love and connection than you’d expect. It’s a welcome step forward from a continually fascinating filmmaker.