Surprise, surprise. Kim Ki-duk puts his characters in Address Unknown through heaping amounts of pain. This time though, it’s enough to make the The Isle feel like a warm, fuzzy vacation as he opens up his cast of characters to include: Eu-nok, a schoolgirl blind in one eye, Chang-guk, a mixed-blood Korean/African teen and his slightly eccentric mother (as a result of his US soldier father abandoning them years ago), Ji-hum- a quiet boy/budding artist (with a crush on Eu-nok) living with his disabled father, and an American soldier that finds himself less than satisfied with his current occupation.
These characters are all located about a small village in the South Korean countryside, situated next to an American military base. A variety of secondary characters emerge and fill in the gaps to make most of the main characters’ lives a living hell. From bullies attacking Ji-hum, to Chang-guk’s mother’s boyfriend--- whose occupation is to kill dogs and sell their meat (while kicking Chang-guk around), our main characters have their work cut out for them.
As a result, it is clear Kim’s main focus is on depicting the horrid effects of war and occupation on the normal citizens--- the little people who suffer psychological, emotional and physical pain as a result of diplomatic relations bigger than them. The point is certainly made in subtle character-building methods (up to the first hour mark) that establish their conflicts without any blatant finger pointing. There are even some attempts at humanizing the American soldiers (who would be seen as the most obviously direct cause of the trouble) with a character who takes a liking to Eu-nok.
Kim paints an aching picture of human disparity, as he confronts his characters with dire circumstances and little in the way of solutions—and does so without simply piling problem after problem on them for no reason. The script finds its strengths in the well-structured conflicts that feel perfectly natural to the world. One character’s means of survival or coping may inadvertently affect another’s.
However, two things go decidedly wrong once the film enters its second hour. The performance of Mitch Mahlum—the actor playing the American soldier, and the slow destruction of the main characters both suffer from the same problem: they feel absurdly over-the-top and destroy any suspension of disbelief the audience may have. The stories slowly lose their impact because we are painfully distracted by the film’s problems.
Mahlum’s missteps are easier to spot. He’s a key character to both the film’s plot and message, yet whenever he is on screen, his wooden acting and poor expressions of emotion make the scenes almost comical in a film where laughter should be our last response.
It is a little more difficult to pin down the second major problem: the resolutions to certain character plotlines. On one hand, some plot turns are understandable because Kim wants characters to reassert their pride for dramatic effect and as symbols of Korea. But other times, the never-ending shower of bad-luck seems ridiculous and manipulative, and Kim’s writing feels blatant and deliberate, lessening the film’s punch. It’s not as if dinosaurs appear from out of nowhere and wreak havoc on our characters, but there is a slight, irksome artificiality in the way some plots wrap up.
Still, Kim fans should find the painful, gritty art-house work that they came for. Though there are some glaring flaws, wonderful acting by the rest of the cast and a unique script make the film worth a look in any case.
Reviewed by Tarun
