Yeraishyang: The Student and the Sex Worker

We've all heard the one about the hooker with the heart of gold. Yet how about the whore with blood of gold? She's one of the leads in Jeong Chang-hwa's pleasurable melodrama Yeraishyang. How else to categorize a lady-of-the-night (Moon Jeong-seok) who saves the life of a penniless protester (Shin Sung-il) by donating her alcoholic blood for his needed transfusion? And once you've gone that far for a stranger, why not sacrifice everything else? He needs money? Sell your jewels. He needs a place to stay? Put him up for a while. He wants your love, too? Um. That's when things get complicated.

Because one is always one's dirty past as much as one is one's self-sacrificing present. In this cabaret dancer's case, that means "once a drunk, always a drunk" until she ends up in rehab at the National Psychiatric Hospital. There, she'll suffer the indignities of no makeup, no hairbrush, and an unflattering housecoat as well as the delirium tremens. She'll also emerge a new woman. Not the one who begs her boyfriend to slap her. No, she was always there. I'm talking about the embittered siren committed to revenging her dad after meeting a pipe-smoking old, Chinese man. The third act of this pulpy black-and-white may catch you offguard but it's pretty fun stuff.

Starting Point: Lost From the Beginning

There's a lot that's undisclosed in Lee Man-hui's thriller Starting Point. What's in those papers that our most moral mobster (Shin Sung-il) is trying to steal from the office safe? Do they merit killing the security guard? What instructions are passed on to the prostitute (Mun Hie) before she joins him on a mock honeymoon? And why must these two pose as newyweds at a campsite where people dance around a campfire to rock 'n roll? Lee — and his screenwriter Kim Ji-hyeon — have no intention on filling in the gaps. Which makes this 1960s noir a puzzler, that perhaps only repeat viewings can solve.

After a single screening courtesy of the Korean Film Archive's YouTube channel, the movie remained a conundrum. For while the hooker may have be the bait of her mock groom, she's also the one person on his side once trouble escalates. Their faux fieldtrip to Mount Seorak is fraught with peril once the hoods come out to hunt down them down. So will either survive? And would either of them want to, should the other die? Would a stack of money help? You see, they've fallen in love. And how do you repay someone for breaking your heart? I promise you, it's even harder in the snow. And tougher on a staircase!

A Young Zelkova: Romance With Simple Shadows

Was color film really an advancement? Generally speaking, black-and-white movies are consistently more visually arresting. The images tend to be more focused, and the interplay of shadow and light inherently comes into play. And since the monochromatic aspect automatically feels archival, the picture itself feels like a piece of history. Because of that, A Young Zelkova overcomes its corniness and its outdated morality through the gravity of grayscale. For much of Lee Seong-gu's melodrama, conflict looks to be in short supply.

When Suk-hee (Moon Hee) travels to the city to attend Cheonwu Women's University, she leaves her grandparents behind to live with her remarried mother (Joo Jeong-ryeo), her stepdad-professor (Park Am), and her new stepbrother (Shin Sung-il) whose single, handsome, smart, and romantic. The rival (Yoon Yang Ha) for her heart presents no real danger to their happily ever after. Nor do a trio of bike accidents: one when they meet cute; one when he gives a lift to a young friend (Ahn Sung-ki), and one when he teaches her how to ride a two-wheeler on a nearby tennis court. What does threaten their future are societal expectations. You see, you're not supposed to fall for a sibling whether he's a blood relation or not.

The Classroom of Youth: She Loves Him, Loathes Him, Loves Him

The script of The Classroom of Youth is certainly quotable.

"I scanned the crotch first every time time the three of you were born."

"In every respect, I should be the first to taste a man."

"Gangsters use violence regardless of gender."

"When I'm with you, I get electric sparks in my body."

"I'd rather play chest with Ghengis Khan in Hell."

"Let's be eternal bachelors like Jesus Christ."

"Run around naked and then get hit by lightning and die!"

This curious rom-com about a sweet, reckless bastard (Shin Sung-il) who falls hard for a frugal goody two-shoes (Um Aing-ran) has unforgettable plot points throughout, too: a shameless crossdressing episode, a kissing raffle with alcohol wipes, a hair-focused fashion show, a sisterly wrestling match, and a staged double suicide at seas. Director Kim Soo-yong (Seashore Village), aims for an unlikely upbeat ending and oddly enough, the man pulls it off. Good stuff!

Gilsotteum: Nice to See You Again

The split between North and South Korea isn't simply a political matter. Families were torn apart when the country broke in two. That personal damage was news again when TV channel KBS started airing emotionally heartbreaking, splitscreen interviews of long lost relatives finally reunited years after that defining war. That now-historic footage, interwoven throughout Gilsotteum, makes for a powerful viewing experience even today.

Set against these archival clips is Im Kwon-taek's soap opera about two star-crossed cousins — once in love, now married to others — who find each other unexpectedly at station headquarters before embarking on a shared search for their own ill-begotten son. The mother (Kim Ji-mee) lost custody of the boy while in jail. The father (Shin Sung-il) never had any luck in tracking the infant down. Can these two adults — back together again, decades later — locate their child now that he's become a man? And what'll they do if they do? Why ask to see his double vortex hair of course! Sounds like something out of Aeschylus to me. Greek tragedy meet Korean cinema!

An Early Rain: Who's the Drip?

The giddy excitement a new raincoat elicits from spacey hired domestic (Mun Hie) seems like that of a child. "What should I do? This raincoat is changing my life?" she queries after a frolic at the local nightclub where she finds herself the somewhat improbably unparalleled object of desire for all the suits and the musicians on site. The one who continues in hot pursuit of her is a womanizing mechanic (Shin Sung-il), who — mistaking her for the daughter of the French Ambassador — dumps his sugar mama, hustles his former flings, and gets himself a new suit so he can... take her to a bar for a televised wrestling match?

Not exactly the ideal date but she seems to like it well enough. Hell, she even stays in good spirits when, on the way back home, the stolen car gets a flat tire and the engine conks out. Is it love? A mutual infatuation? Or two young people projecting their fantasies of a better life on each other's mistaken identities? I suppose for some people that might pass for romance and could even end up in troublesome marriage if neither party gets found out.

But the opportunities to find out are somewhat limited in Jeong Jin-woo's An Early Rain because their dates are dictated by the weather: These two only meet when there's a downpour. Are gray skies ahead for this pair of pretenders? Of course, they are... which leads to fun times at the roller rink, the amusement park, the horse track, and a boat ride. And less fun times, that remind you that though money can't buy you love, it can purchase something more disturbing and more violent.

A Day Off: An Off Day

Watching Lee Man-hui's late-'60s melodrama, you get the feeling that the director was a big fan of L'Avventura, La Notte, and the other great existential romances of the decade. Like those two Antonioni films too, A Day Off is beautifully shot in black-and-white and involves characters futilely searching for a deeper meaning in life. (Good luck, right?) This time around however one major practical concern is also at play: One of the film's two leading ladies, Ji-yeon (Jeon Ji-yeon) is six months pregnant and needs to get an abortion. (Even the doctor thinks she's unwise to carry to term, people!) Unfortunately for her, both she and her shady boyfriend (Shin Sung-il) are damn flat broke.

And so, a good chunk of A Day Off is spent following the unlucky love of her life as he attempts to scrape together the necessary funds from a ladies' man, a drunk academic, and a chubby guy who really likes to take baths. But where the movie gets especially interesting for me is when he goes on a bender with a different woman, an equally down-on-her-luck Seoul-mate who wants to drink this particular Sunday — hell, every Sunday — into oblivion. As these two souses careen from one drinking hole to the next, A Day Off begins to feel both more real and more surreal — capturing the recklessness, giddiness, and danger of getting blind stinking drunk with someone who can match you drink for drink. How's it all end?

Well, the censors banned it for being too depressing back in the day despite a coda that's like a little poem to "being". Is life a flower growing in the crack of a city sidewalk? This poetic flick wants to believe so.

Madame White Snake: Succubi Are Hot

At last! A supernatural story! Shin Sang-ok's fun fantasy Madame White Snake is all about a white snake disguised as a woman (Choi Eun-hie) who seduces the sweet-natured brother of a pharmacist's wife following their meet-cute encounter on a boat during a rainstorm. It's easy to see why he'd fall for her. Her elaborate fan dance alone — executed when he swings by her palatial house to retrieve an umbrella he'd lent her the day before — is about as irresistible as one can get. Plus, she's always throwing silver coins his way and has a ready excuse for every strange occurrence. Sticklers may point out that none of her excuses are particularly believable but that's the power of love: Even the preposterous seems reasonable.

Released in 1960, Madame White Snake keeps the special effects simple and strange: thick globules of smoke signal magic ahead and a light fog allows the snake-woman to fly to another dimension occupied by a judgmental monk and the Goddess of Deadpan. But the real magic here is Choi Eun-hie who's always been a creature of hidden powers. At times vampiric, at other times witchy, she's constantly casting spells as she slowly entraps her prey in a romantic fantasy that may have some serious repercussions. (The villagers have been dying at the rate of a dozen a day!) That's when the "quack shaman" enters.

He's the black snake to battle her white snake. Evidently the world is full of snakes — probably the worst reptile being the governor snake who forces our leading lady to drink alcohol so she'll pass out so he can rape her in bed. The rufey has been around forever! Well so have women who get revenge.