Episode 14: Oldboy
Justin:
The final shot of a movie goes a long way in how long a movie sits with me. I can still, to this day, think back to the first time I saw The Mist, and how utterly gut-punching the final seconds of that movie are. Years later, still thinking about it. Job well done, movie. On the happier side of that coin, there’s last year’s Knives Out, whose wonderfulness culminates in a tremendous glance from one character to another and a coffee mug for the ages. So well planned out, these things. And when they work, they work.
Oldboy very much belongs in this conversation. The final moments that we spend with Dae Su Oh are truly heart wrenching. His journey throughout the film is one filled with vengeance at the front and back of his brain. Sure, there’s the morbid curiosity of why this has happened to him, but it’s pretty clear that he’s out to get the one who set all this in motion. That’s why the last five minutes or so are so memorable to me. Because he’s done with all that. And this is what he’s left with.
The scene is set amongst a snow-blanketed forest, the extreme whiteness of the weather trying its best to purify everything that came before it. There’s a brief interaction with the hypnotist from earlier in the film, as she explains how Dae Su Oh might remove himself from the pains of his current situation. But do we really believe he would have been able contact her to get her out there to see him? That she would have even come if he did? Is this all just a dream?
And that’s why the shot of the two empty chairs but only one set of tracks leaving them is so deflating and yet, impactful. It reveals the things that we’re able to convince ourselves of, especially during times of immense pain and heartbreak. The lies we can tell ourselves just to get by. The truths that we hold onto and keep from others in order to save them from the same hurt. It’s all there in that shot, and then hammered home (pun of course intended) with the embrace of known only to him as father and daughter, one of the most loaded and depressing “I love you”s ever put on film, and a relieved smile that quickly changes to reveal the tears that suggest his demons will torment him for a lifetime, and quite possibly, the viewer as well.
Pete:
In my mind, I’ve been drawing comparisons between Oldboy and the puzzle-box films of Christopher Nolan. I’m something of a lukewarm Nolan fan, and that’s mostly due to his movies feeling, sounding, and looking important, but not having the substance underneath needed to get me to totally buy in. Don’t get me wrong – I love a few of his movies (Dunkirk in particular), but overall his movies almost always leave me wondering what could have been.
Ironically, however, a movie like Oldboy, which comes from literally the opposite side of the world, justifies the existence of the kind of movies that ask audiences to go along for what is an intentionally confusing ride with the promise of something revelatory at the end. The difference is, not only does Oldboy deliver on that promise, but Park Chan Wook is able to sneak just enough substance into that delivery to make the film worthwhile. Vengeance isn’t a new concept in cinema, but Park’s ability, not just in Oldboy, but over the course of his career, to seamlessly mesh arthouse and exploitation cinema, makes for wholly original entries into whatever genre he’s working in. In the case of Oldboy, the result is a revenge movie unlike anything that came before. And I’m not just referring to the incest – the movie’s willingness to tackle some very heady ideas within what is one of the more batshit crazy narratives ever put on film, is the exact kind of movie I want to see. To be able to combine that kind of ambition with such a high level of precision and attention to detail is quite an achievement. It’s certainly a weird movie, but inside that weirdness is something wonderful.
