Ieoh Island (Iodo)

Environmental journalist Chun Nam-seok (Choi Yoon-seok) is sent by his editor on a boat trip junket. Both men are unaware that it’s promoting a proposed Ieoh Island hotel. Chun Nam-seok was born and raised on Parang-do island, off the coast of Jeju island. On Parang-do, Ieoh Island was regarded with a terrible awe owing to the water spirits alleged to live there and believed to take the fishermen from their boats during storms at sea. The island is populated by women who mostly work as divers and their children, the men having been lost at sea on fishing vessels or having left the island for other reasons.

Aware of Chun Nam-seok’s environmentalist credentials, but not of his past associations with the island, company man Sun Woo-hyun (Kim Jong-cheol), whose brainchild the proposed Ieoh Island hotel is, expresses a desire to colleagues to get rid of him and engages with a drinking contest with the man on deck during which Chun Nam-seok goes missing, presumed drowned. Sun Woo-hyun becomes a murder suspect and is later acquitted. However, since both Sun Woo-hyun and Chun Nam-seok’s editor Yang (Am Park) want to uncover the truth behind Chun Nam-seok’s disappearance, they go to Parang-do in the hope that more information will come to light and help clarify the mystery. The island women have never lived anywhere else, except for a barmaid (Lee Hwa-shi) who has the mainland newspaper regularly delivered to keep in touch with the outside world.

What follows is much of Chun Nam-seok’s life story told in a series of increasingly gruesome and bizarre flashbacks (often telegraphed by a bubbling noise on the soundtrack) most but not all of which take place earlier than those that precede them. Roughly, as a young man he tries to elope with childhood sweetheart Sohn Min-ja, who steals money from her mother so they can escape, but terrified of the consequences of taking her from the island’s matriarchy, he instead ties her up and leaves her to die on the rocky coastline.

When years later Chun Nam-seok returns, he takes a different woman Park Yeo-in (Kwon Mi-hye) as wife and they plan to start a business farming albalone for which she will raise the two million won seed money. Eventually, a mystery woman wearing a white shroud – perhaps an old woman although it’s impossible to tell – puts up the money with a clause to the agreement that if isn’t paid back, he will leave his wife and come and live with her. Unfortunately, pollution damages the albalone and ruins the business, causing the clause to be invoked. Sometime later, he lands a job as an environmental reporter on a Seoul paper.

The whole is peppered with a lady shaman (Park Jeong-ja) and various ritual dances culminating in an extremely graphic late scene which not only inevitably ran into trouble with the then Korean censors (although on this occasion we were shown an uneviscerated print) but also still shocks even by today’s standards. Not that the scene is gratuitous: it has to do with the sexual mores and primitive beliefs of the island’s (female) population and is absolutely in keeping with everything else in the film.

Much is made of the island locations and there’s some deeply unsettling use of editing and zoom lens. It’s a film which demands multiple viewing and must surely rank among one of the most powerful evocations of primitive beliefs ever committed to celluloid by anyone in any culture. These days, its environmental slant lends it an extra gravitas. There’s no trading in didacticism here, however. It remains one of the great works of cinema: its director deserves to be far better known and this is one of his finest works. A true masterpiece.

Ieoh Island plays in LKFF, The London Korean Film Festival. Watch the film trailer below (sorry, Korean only):

Goryeojang

Over fifty years old, Goryeojang is sadly available as only a print with two reels (three and six) missing. The LKFF screened the version where the missing scenes are explained by a brief series of intertitles so that the rest of the film can make sense. It’s a tough film to pigeonhole. A description like period drama, which genre it absolutely fits, proves woefully inadequate as a description. To a Western viewer, it plays out like a classic fairy tale with archetypal characters and considerable amounts of cruelty. The art direction is light years away from any sort of social realism with its rural sets obviously artificially constructed in a studio, recalling (to name but one obvious example) The Singing Ringing Tree (Francesco Stefani, 1957).

The concept of Goryeojang – taking your elders up a mountain when they reach 70 so that they can face death – is central to the world conjured here and all the characters accept the idea as part of their fate. This idea introduced in an opening, present day, TV discussion programme which is never referred to again in the film (perhaps the payoff came in one of the missing reels). Everything else takes place in Korea’s Goryeo Dynasty (918-1392). Keum (Ju Jeung-ryu) has remained in the village past her 70th birthday not out of some desire for self-preservation and longevity which we in the materialist West would recognise, but rather because her adult son Gu-ryong (Kim Jin-kyu) isn’t yet married and she wants to make sure that happens for him before she goes away to die.

Throughout the narrative a lady shaman loiters around the village’s sacred tree enacting strange songs and rituals to ensure local life proceeds according to tradition as it should. Early on, she prophesies to young mum Keum that the latter’s son will eventually kill the ten sons of the man Keum plans to marry, a prophecy which will overshadow everything that follows.

While her new husband in question is kind enough to her young son Gu-ryong, the former’s ten sons prove considerably less charitable and set the boy up in a game of blind man’s bluff wherein, while the boy is blindfolded, they place a venomous snake in his path which bites his leg when he unwittingly walks into it. This leaves the boy crippled.

Twenty years later as an adult, the boy has become socially ostracised as no able-bodied woman will marry him. He’s also done rather well for himself causing considerable enmity between him and his ten stepbrothers. When Gu-ryong eventually marries a mute, they kidnap and gang rape her, leaving him on his own again. Later, he adopts a young girl with a pockmarked face Ye-on, another outcast who like Gu-ryong didn’t fit in with their former cruel siblings.

With the area in the grip of hunger caused by drought, the lady shaman insists that Gu-ryong must take Keum up the mountain and leave her there to appease the gods who will then send the much-needed rain.

Sequences such as the blind man’s buff/snake episode, the gang-rape of the mute and, most particularly, the late scene at the mountain top where Gu-ryong must abandon the aged Keum to her fate lodge in the memory of the viewer. The latter sequence delivers a place littered with human skulls and bones across which Gu-ryong traverses back and forth as he tries to leave but his mum keeps finding last words to say or suggestions to make before he leaves her forever. Director Kim milks this for all it’s worth, yet the performances are so heartfelt and the material so disturbing that it really gets under your skin. Most of Kim’s films are set in the present day, so the period historical nature of this one is something of an exception. The sex, violence and cruelty of the narrative is, however, in keeping with many of his other films, as is the almost fairy tale like quality.

Goryeojang is sometimes also known as Burying The Old Alive.

Ieoh Island (1987) Director: Kim Ki-young, Tuesday, 12 November⋅18:15 ICA, book here.

Goryeojang plays in LKFF, The London Korean Film Festival. Watch the film trailer below:

A US Blu-ray of Goryeojang is released by the Korean Film Archive on November 14th. Available here.

The Pollen Of Flowers (Hwaboon)

A film which owes a clear debt to Theorem (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1968), director Ha Gil-Jong’s debut The Pollen Of Flowers has a lot of other things going on too. It’s believed to be the first Korean film to depict a gay character (actually a bisexual and the film features two) and watching it today as a Westerner, it also brought to mind films as different to Theorem (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1968) as The Haunting (Robert Wise, 1963) and The Masque Of The Red Death (Roger Corman, 1964). In terms of Korean cinema, the films of Kim Ki-young are an obvious influence. There’s also an element of political allegory in there. All in all, quite a potent, mixed cocktail of tricks and influences.

Businessman Hyeon-ma (Nam Goong-won) lives at the Blue House with his mistress Se-ran (Yun So-ra) and her prepubescent sister Mi-ran (Choi Ji-hee). The Blue House is also the name of the home of known Korean heads of state, which adds a whole other layer of meaning to everything going on here. (Historically, South Korea was run by dictator Park Chung-hee between his ascension via military coup in 1961 through to his assassination in 1979. The Pollen Of Flowers was made bang in the middle of that period.)

What sets the ball rolling is on the one hand that Hyeon-ma brings home his gay lover Dan-Ju (the director’s brother Ha Myung-joong) and on the other Mi-ran has her first period (some four years before Hollywood would broach the subject of menstruation in Carrie, Brian De Palma, 1976). Much like the protagonist of Theorem, the quietly spoken Dan-Ju proceeds to sleep his way around the other two members of the household. The unexpected ending, like the last line of a Biblical parable, has a mob of creditors turn up to between them seize all the household’s goods in order to pay for losses incurred by Hyeon-ma’s company. This chaotic ending for me echoed the orgy followed by the plague in The Masque Of The Red Death.

Weaving around all this plot is the maid Ok-Neyo (Yeo Woon-kai), spoken to severely to keep her in her place, who is given to such actions as putting live rats into a room through its window while the two people inside are having sex. She immediately brings to mind the social climber trying to steal the husband of the family for who she works in The Housemaid/Hanryo (Kim Ki-young, 1963). She also increases the tension when the household is already on edge by playing a classical drum instrument. This comes after Dan-ju has sat in the garden repeatedly and noisily bashing a small rock against hard ground. As well as this sound, there’s an unexplained, repeated banging that goes on which for me recalled the paranormal knocking noises in The Haunting. But since The Pollen Of Flowers, whatever it may be, isn’t a ghost story or a horror story, one wonders what this noise is supposed to be – forces about to erupt and overwhelm the status quo of the Blue House, perhaps? In places, there’s also an extraordinary psych-prog-jazz score.

The LKFF is playing two more Ha Gil-Jong films in conjunction with the Barbican’s occasional Hidden Figures strand: The March Of Fools (1975) and his personal favourite The Ascension Of Han-ne (1977). (Not to mention a couple of Kim Ki-young films at the ICA.) Having now seen The Pollen Of Flowers, I honestly can’t wait. Movies really don’t come any more dirtylicious than this.

The March Of Fools (1975) Director: Ha Gil-Jong Wed 6 Nov 20.30, Barbican Cinema 2, book here.

The Ascension Of Han-ne (1977) Director: Ha Gil-Jong, Sunday 10 Nov, 18.00, Barbican Cinema 2, book here.
Goreojang (1963) Director: Kim Ki-young, 5 November⋅18:15 ICA, book here.
Ieoh Island (1987) Director: Kim Ki-young, Tuesday, 12 November⋅18:15 ICA, book here.

The Pollen of Flowers plays in LKFF, The London Korean Film Festival. Watch the festival trailer below: