No Other Choice (2025)

Man-su (Lee Byung-Hun) enjoys the best of times before it all collapses in the dramedy “No Other Choice.”

Park Chan-wook’s latest offers ‘Choice’ filmmaking

     How many of us have thought to ourselves, “I’d kill for that job”? Just about everyone, right? And always in jest. But not Man-su, the subject of Park Chan-wook’s phenomenal satire “No Other Choice.” He’s deadly serious. More so, he’s got a plan, one involving three murders. Yet, he’s no sociopath. He’s merely unemployed, the victim of a paper cut that’s about to cause 2019’s Pulp Man of the Year to bleed out.

     I, of course, mean that in a figurative sense. If there’s any true spillage of plasma, it’s going to be on the part of his chief competitors in what’s so far been a fruitless job search facilitated by the American takeover of the Korean paper manufacturer to whom Man-su devoted 25 years of his life. It’s not like he’s shooting for the moon. Well, actually, he is. For Moon is the name of the upstart rival of his former employer, Solar.

     Alas, the supervisory position Man-su (“Squid Game’s” Lee Byung-Hun) seeks at Moon is already filled by the pompous ass Choi Sun-chul (Park Hee-Soon), who precipitates his own demise by humiliating Man-su during a disastrous job interview. But just as Man-su is about to drop a large potted plant on his enemy’s noggin, an idea pops into his head. It’s a doozy, too. Instead of killing Sun-chul now, why not wait until after he eliminates the candidates most likely to become Sun-chul’s replacement?

     To that end, Man-su hatches a scheme to place an ad seeking applicants for a nonexistent job at a fake company. As you’d expect in this industry, all resumes must be submitted on paper, a stipulation indicative of the playful sense of humor Park and his three co-writers seek to imbue in adapting Donald Westlake’s novel. In no time, Man-su is sorting through a foot-tall stack of submissions, narrowing his competition down to two A+ prospects: Gu Bummo (Lee Sung-Min), a bullied husband who’s gone to seed since being laid off, and Sijo (Cha Seung-won), a lovely, personable guy forced to moonlight as a shoe salesman after his axing. Let the bungled attempts at homicide begin.

     Obviously, the tone is decidedly black, with Park and company holding nothing back in creating a film destined to become an ideal double-bill with the Oscar-winning “Parasite.” The two share a great deal of DNA, particularly in their blood-spattered critiques of corporate greed and trickle-down capitalism.

     Unlike the clan in “Parasite,” Man-su’s brood wants for nothing. At least at the start. As Man-su states up front, “I’ve got it all.” Indeed, he does. Along with his smart, savvy wife, Miri (an Oscar-worthy Son Ye-Jin), the couple has two children, teenage Si-one (Woo Seung Kim) from Miri’s first marriage, and tween Si-two (So Yul Choi), a cello prodigy whose talent suggests a second coming of Yo-Yo Ma. Together, they reside in Man-su’s gorgeous childhood home, adorned with two golden retrievers, adorably named after the kids, two luxury cars, and an industrial-grade greenhouse Man-su built himself to accommodate his bonsai obsession.

     We meet them all as Man-su mans the backyard grill, BBQing a fresh eel sent to him by Solar’s new Yankee owners. It’s Miri’s birthday and the mood is festive, especially after Man-su gifts her a snazzy pair of dancing shoes she instantly takes for a test spin. Typical of Kim Woo-hyung’s inventive camera work, we watch from a slight distance as Miri and Man-su gracefully emulate Fred and Ginger. For us, and them, it’s a magical moment, one Man-su seeks to savor by summoning everyone, including the dogs, for an affectionate group hug.

    Enjoy it while it lasts, because mere hours later, it all starts to unravel. It turns out the eel wasn’t a reward but an impersonal way of Solar expressing its appreciation for all that Man-su has done, while also urging him not to let the door hit him in the ass.

     Lee, a one-note, masked meanie on “Squid Game,” struggles to restrain his glee over portraying a character as complex and multidimensional as Man-su, a guy who, stripped of his power and confidence, reveals himself to be an ineffectual klutz. He can barely hold the tears during a corporate-sponsored therapy group in which he and other sacked souls recite their credo: “I’m a good person. Losing my job is not my choice. My loving family will support me fully as I seek new opportunities.”

    Don’t count on it. After months of empty job searches and unpaid bills, it’s time to downsize. So, it’s bye-bye luxury cars, replaced by a crappy used sedan; so long doggies, both farmed off to Miri’s parents; and hello Redfin, as Man-su’s dream house goes up for sale. And for the cruelest cut of all, no more Netflix! An edict that has the kids running to the TV for a final binge.

    It’s all cleverly presented tongue-in-cheek, but the sly social commentary isn’t any less powerful. “For the grace of God,” you find yourself saying amid the nervous laughter. The people who won’t be amused are the greedy tech dudes whose embrace of AI is the root cause of the dwindling job market that’s driving Man-su to take such Darwinian actions. They, not Man-su, are the villains.

    “No Other Choice” never wants for purpose or meaning. But what renders it a solid Oscar contender is the vision Park (“Old Boy,” Decision to Leave”) creates for a film that is a technical marvel, employing an array of sight gags, skewed camera angles, superb musical choices (loved his deft use of Mozart’s mournful piano concerto No. 23) and pitch-perfect locations, be it Man-su’s mini-mansion or the rugged, isolated landscapes where Bummo and Sun-chul reside.

    Their idyllic beauty represents an apt contrast to the emotional toll unemployment is taking, not just on Man-su, but also on Miri and the kids, one of whom opts to defy the law too in hopes of keeping the family afloat. The empathy Park garners is off the charts. It even extends to Man-su, who is such a softie we’re compelled to commiserate whenever desperation dictates that he shakily turn his father’s souvenir Vietnam War pistol on his prey.

    Sex, and to a lesser extent, sexism, also come into play, not unlike Park’s masterpiece, “The Handmaiden.” And what about trust? When Miri is forced to trade in her beloved dance and tennis lessons for a part-time job as a dental hygienist, Man-su grows insanely jealous, convinced his wife is getting drilled by the boss. Spoiler alert: She’s not.

    The part of Miri fits Son to a tee. You adore her character’s feistiness as much as you admire her assertive nature, as well as her ability to be tough, yet forgiving, even abetting her husband once she discovers what’s behind all those late-night “job interviews.”  I’d be tickled to see both Son and Lee score Oscar nods. They are long shots, I know, but we shall see.

    In the meantime, check them out for yourself, as well as the magnificent movie they grace. If you’re desiring to be wowed by a film emblematic of these uncertain times, it’s clear to me you have no other choice.

Movie review

No Other Choice

Rated: R for violence, some sexual content and language

Cast: Lee Byung-Hun, Son Ye-Jin, Park Hee-Soon, Lee Sung-Min and Yeom Hye-Ran

Director: Park Chan-wook

Writers: Park Chan-wook, Lee Kyoung-mi, Don McKellar and Jahye Lee

Runtime: 138 minutes

Where: In theaters Dec. 25 (limited)

Grade: A

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