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 vital fluid, it’s going to be on the part of his chief competitors in what’s so far been a fruitless job search precipitated 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 effectuates 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 cranium, an idea pops into his head. It’s a doozy, too. Instead of killing Sun-chul now, why not wait until after he eliminates each of the candidates most likely to become Sun-chul’s replacement?
To that end, Man-su hatches a scheme to solicit candidates for a nonexistent job at a fake company. As you’d expect in this industry, all resumes are required to be submitted on paper, a stipulation reflective of the playful sense of humor Park and his three co-writers infuse into their adaptation of Donald Westlake’s novel “The Ax.” In no time, Man-su is sorting through a foot-tall stack of CVs, narrowing his competition down to two A+ prospects: Gu Bummo (Lee Sung-min), a henpecked 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 attempted homicides begin.
Obviously, the tone is decidedly dark, with Park and company holding nothing back in creating a film destined to be the 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 declares with confidence, “I’ve got it all.” Indeed, he does. He and his smart, savvy wife, Miri (an Oscar-worthy Son Ye-jin), have two children, teenage Si-one (Woo Seung Kim) from Miri’s first marriage, and tween Si-two (Choi So-yul), a cello prodigy whose talent suggests a second coming of Yo-Yo Ma. Together, they reside in Man-su’s idyllic childhood home, enhanced by 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 presents her with 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 evoke Fred and Ginger. For them and us, it’s a magical moment, one Man-su endeavors to savor by summoning everyone, including the dogs, for a snug 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 a perfunctory expression of appreciation for all that Man-su has done, while implicitly indicating he not let the door hit him on the way out.
Lee, a one-note, masked meanie on “Squid Game,” can hardly contain 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 suppress the tears during a corporate-sponsored therapy session at 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 unprofitable job searches and unpaid bills, it’s time to downsize. So, it’s bye-bye luxury cars, replaced by a shabby second-hand sedan; so long doggies, both farmed out to Miri’s parents; and hello Redfin, as Man-su’s dream house goes up for sale. And 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 social commentary isn’t any less stinging. “There but for the grace of God go I,” you find yourself thinking 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 lacks purpose or meaning. But what renders it a solid Oscar contender is the visual and technical marvel Park (“Old Boy,” Decision to Leave”) creates, 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 locales where Bummo and Sun-chul reside.
Their placid beauty represents an apt contrast to the emotional turbulence unemployment is inflicting, 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 engenders is off the charts. It even extends to Man-su, who is such a softie we’re compelled to commiserate whenever desperation dictates he shakily turn his father’s souvenir Vietnam War pistol on his prey.
Ultimately, “No Other Choice” reveals itself to be less about plot and more a study of human nature and the middle class’s tooth-and-nail fight to reclaim its place in the economic caste system. 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 is tailor-made for Son. You delight in her character’s feistiness and admire her capacity 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 intrigued by a film emblematic of these uncertain times, clearly there is 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
