Guess what? This is movie #16, meaning we’re OVER HALFWAY
THERE. Who is getting tired? Not this writer! All downhill from here, Space Monkeys.
Today’s movie is Cinderella, directed by Bong Man-dae. Let us be clear:
this is not the Disney version. It’s spooky season, so there is no Prince Charming,
no glass slippers, and no Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo. The 2006 Cinderella is a Korean horror
movie about codependency, self-mutilation, and faceless ghosts. That makes it something of a fairy
tale of a kind, I suppose. Just a depressing fable of madness and denial, much
closer to David Cronenberg’s Dead Ringers than wholesome fun for the whole
family.
Cinderella starts out as a very different movie than the one
it becomes. It is really two horror concepts that overlap, either one of which
could have been a disturbing enough movie on its own. At first Cinderella is
about a group of wealthy young women in an urban art school, all of whom have
begun to use plastic surgery. Their doctor is Yoon-hee (Do Ji-won), the gorgeous
mother of their popular classmate, Hyeon-su (Shin Se-kyung). The surgeries are all
successful. But then dark side-effects begin to set in. Hyeon-su’s friends
start seeing spirits in the dark corners, and then fantasizing about self-harm.
“This is not my face” they all say, eventually. “Give me
back my face.” Then they do horrible things to themselves.
For some cultural context, plastic surgery is very popular
in South Korea. I've seen statistics claiming that approximately a third to a half of all young women in South
Korea have had some kind of facial work done. I am not Korean,
so I’ll accept I’m well out of my depth here. There are definitely some complex
cultural issues going on here about the shape of eyes and lightness of skin. Attempts
to look “more Caucasian” are hardly unique among Koreans, and I feel like I’ve
wandered into a very sticky minefield. Is it sexist? Racist? Classist? Almost
certainly all three. Cultural concepts of beauty are typically as exclusionary
as they are aspirational. But fuck if I’m going to pretend like I have any
answers. I feel like it's often just as shitty to be weird and judgmental if women want to look a certain way.
(Plus, my nose could probably use a bit of tweaking anyway.)
I have seen Cinderella described as a satire, but I’m not
convinced it is. For one, this is not a movie at all interested in any of those
issues I just brought up. The entire cast is made of beautiful young women, often
generically beautiful. It is very, very difficult to tell the cast apart apart
from Hyeon-su and Yoon-hee. The rest of the girls are less individual
characters than a kind of non-specific female collective. You rarely hear their names, they're not supposed to stand apart. By the time Cinderella starts, all of the girls have apparently had their
surgeries. We do not get to see the before or after.
I have not seen anything else Bong Man-dae has made, but most
of his other films seem to be bawdy sex comedies. The camera’s gaze is
certainly not unhappy to stare at pretty young idols. If Cinderella wants to be
a movie conservatively denouncing the evils of vapid rich girls getting
fashionable faces, it is too in love with the upper-class fashions to have any
bite. Ultimately, plastic surgery is just a vehicle to get to the horror. It's as much as satire of surgery as Christine is a satire of cars.
What Cinderella is really about is the ghost hiding in the back of the story. That figure is central to the relationship between Hyeon-su and Yoon-hee. As mother and daughter, their interactions are strange enough before any horror occurs. Yoon-hee is obsessed with her adult daughter’s skin, still bathes her, and seems extremely possessive of her. Even Hyeon-su notices this is not how mothers should treat their fully-growned children, and calls her mother “her husband”. (Men barely factor into Cinderella, it is almost an all-female affair. So interesting choice of gender role there, Hyeon-su.)
As the movie grows darker, Yoon-hee increasingly seems to be
losing track of reality. There’s often two Hyeon-su’s in one scene, one still
affectionate and passive, and the other horrified and demanding answers. Yoon-hee
cannot tell her daughter apart from a ghost. The audience loses track of who is who too, and that makes for a few great scares.
This is around the time we start to dig deep into what is
really happening in this family. Why does Hyeon-su not have any photos from her
childhood? Why is there an old woman wandering the streets of their city, still
looking for her long-lost daughter? Why do we never see the ghost's face? Does the ghost even have a face? Another
better question is: why is this movie called Cinderella. I assumed it was a
dark metaphor for the transformation plastic surgery offered. No, this is
actually a lot closer to the fairy tale than you might think. Just who is the
step-sister and who is the princess?
There is certainly no lack of really great horror coming from
Korea over the last twenty years. As far as those go, Cinderella is actually
less depressing than most. The Wailing or I Saw the Devil are much, much more
miserable experiences. (And admittedly better movies too.) At ninety minutes
Cinderella is a crisp, breezy experience in comparison. That might be why it had
less of an impact overall. It isn’t high art. But if what you’re after is scares
and twisted themes, you’ll get it here. Cinderella is mostly just very solid, not
any kind of masterpiece. Recommended though, deserves a bit more love.
Next time we travel to 2007, the year of Cranking that Soulja Boy, the great Bobby Petrino era of the Falcons coming to an end, our next movie, [REC].
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