I should’ve seen it coming. The twist at the end of the first part is obvious if you’re on the lookout. It’s built up to nicely, so even those who are keen enough to catch on are engrossed, not dismayed. I myself was caught off guard as I was too focused on the love triangle itself and not the intricacies surrounding it. I took the film to be a dissection of carnal instincts, not a twisty thriller on top of it. Considering this is Park Chan-wook, I don’t know why I’m surprised.
There is a twist at the end of the second part that isn’t as obvious, at least not to me. If it was, I can’t use the ignorance argument in my defense. Not that I care, as obvious or not, the twists work flawlessly and are intoxicating! Each part builds upon the other, starting off slow in the first, gradually getting steamier in the second, and exploding with lunacy in the final act. What starts out as an intimate portrayal of lust and deceit turns into an ostentatious erotic thriller that “Fifty Shades of Grey” wishes it were! Fellow FAN columnist Justin Seals was unerring with that proclamation in his review.
What makes “The Handmaiden” so successful is that Park Chan-wook isn’t looking to titillate. Erotic thrillers of this variety always tend to focus on the lust, cranking up the sexuality to stimulate the audience’s carnal desires. What results is a film that plays out like softcore pornography, loosely strung together via a plot to service the viewer’s inclinations. What’s lost is the passion and raw honesty found in sex. More importantly, the thriller aspect is all but eradicated, falling victim to the tantalization. By avoiding the titillation and focusing on the emotional drives of the characters, Chan-wook crafts a brilliantly steamy thriller that is arousing because of passion!
“The Handmaiden” is a simple story of thievery via deception, at least at first. Count Fujiwara (Ha Jung-woo) and Sook-He (Kim Tae-ri) pose as lover and handmaiden to Lady Hideko (Kim Min-hee), all to trick her into marriage to embezzle her inheritance. The plan is to slowly drive her mad to the point of admittance to a mental institution. As she withers away inside, the duo will collect on the inheritance. The only person standing in their way is Kouzuki (Jo Jin-woong), Hideko’s perverted uncle who plans on wedding her himself. He is easy to bypass, given that Fujiwara is much more desirable. It’s easy at first, that is.
The film then turns into what seems to be a simple love triangle. As Fujiwara lays on the charm, Hideko secretly pines for Sook-He. What ensues is a forbidden romance between the two, erupting from a simple gesture of kindness. Sook-He tries to avoid temptation, but gives in one fateful night. Now comes the struggle of continuing the deception or turning her back on Fujiwara in return for love. Then, the twist comes into play. It is nothing short of shocking and brilliant!
The second and third parts backtrack sporadically, filling in plot holes astutely. Once the abhorrent past of Lady Hideko is revealed, everything slowly begins to make more sense. Her timid demeanor and scars are explained thoroughly, given more credence than simple emotional manipulation. The scandalous activity, such as whippings and a bizarre mannequin routine, are made palatable as they complement the tortured nature of Hideko’s life. They don’t exist solely to astound, but to give weight to the drama and thrills.
Park Chan-wook tackles the eroticism with an understated approach. The wildness comes across as subdued, seeming more tamed than it actually is. This is indicative of the abnormal upbringing that defined Hideko. What is crazy to everyone else is normal to her. I became so entranced by the peculiar somberness that I too almost grew numb to it. That in and of itself was shocking, challenging me to question my sanity.
The understated approach makes the cruder dialogue found in the screenplay (which Park co-wrote with Chung Seo-Kyung from Sarah Waters’ novel) comestible. While this is smarter than the average erotic thriller, it’s not without its overbearing lewdness. Excessive dialogue is scattered throughout to amplify the eroticism. And yet, I didn’t bat an eye at any of it, accepting it at face value. When Hideko wishes she could breastfeed Sook-He, I didn’t scoff at the ridiculousness of that statement (as I’m sure you’re doing right now), but bought into her desire to say so. It plays into that subdued nature I mentioned earlier.
The eroticism plays into the twists and turns phenomenally! I began questioning the motives of all involved thanks to their sexual propensities, not in spite of them. At first, I accepted the notion that this was a simple thievery gone awry, but started to think a certain character’s deceit was planned from the start. When I began to accept the motivations of the plan, I started to question the sentimentality. Could Hideko be falling in love with Sook-He or is she stringing her along? The former would make sense, as Sook-He represents the innocence that was robbed of Hideko. The latter also rings true, the innocence of Sook-He being the prime target for Hideko’s aberrant impulses. And what of the Count? Is he driven by greed or other ulterior motives? And how about the perverted uncle who lingers in the background? When and how will he strike?
“The Handmaiden” exceeded my loftiest of expectations simply by subverting them. I was fooled into thinking it was a straightforward yet enchanting portrait of intimacy and innocence, encompassed by a deceitful love triangle. I was chucked around by the shrewd twist and turns, each one knocking me for an even bigger loop. I was captivated and confused by the outrageousness, yet also endeared to the lovelorn essence of the love triangle. I was on the edge of my seat, even during the most reserved sequences. I was caught by surprise by a director I felt I had pegged. Yet another reason to love Park Chan-wook!
Final Rating: A