With Kim Ki-Duk films (though he just wrote this one and didn't helm), you're always in for extremes. Consequently I find his work either appalling or strangely fascinating, depending on the consistency of the story, which is always a man-woman relationship out of the ordinary. In this case the context is (once more) extremely constructed: A natural beauty finds herself the target of non-ceasing unwanted male attention and estranged from envious female friends. After having been raped by a stalker, she attempts to destroy her unwanted appearance. A policeman who initially protects her is gradually just as crazed by her natural grace as her stalker. And if you wonder why such an obviously traumatized woman is not hospitalized, you get to see how a doctor also tries to have his way with the poor girl.
This never-ending odyssey from one lustful male to the other gives the tragedy an involuntary comical twist, and scenes of startling violence interchange with moments of strange humour. That's where this film departs from the gruesomeness of Kim Ki-Duk's earlier works, perhaps due to the influence of first-time director Jeon Jae-hong. As a result, I've found it much more entertaining, and not quite as paralyzing. Films like Seom (The Isle) or Hwal (The Bow) move sordidly through beautiful images to sudden violent thuds. Areumdapta however keeps a steady pace towards a larger-than-life and somewhat farcical finish, which makes me wonder - not for the first time - if its creator wants to relate to the female victims of a male-dominated society or if he just, well, gets off on his own twisted fantasies.
This never-ending odyssey from one lustful male to the other gives the tragedy an involuntary comical twist, and scenes of startling violence interchange with moments of strange humour. That's where this film departs from the gruesomeness of Kim Ki-Duk's earlier works, perhaps due to the influence of first-time director Jeon Jae-hong. As a result, I've found it much more entertaining, and not quite as paralyzing. Films like Seom (The Isle) or Hwal (The Bow) move sordidly through beautiful images to sudden violent thuds. Areumdapta however keeps a steady pace towards a larger-than-life and somewhat farcical finish, which makes me wonder - not for the first time - if its creator wants to relate to the female victims of a male-dominated society or if he just, well, gets off on his own twisted fantasies.