----------Warning: This article may contain spoilers!

Bong Joon-ho has long been a beloved director in cinephile circles, especially among those who follow contemporary South Korean cinema. Known for his deep admiration of Martin Scorsese, Bong has made a name for himself in the industry with works like Memories of Murder (살인의 추억), The Host (괴물), Mother (마더), Snowpiercer, and Okja. The success of his films have not only established his reputation but also caught the attention of the American cinema intelligentsia, notably through frequent mentions by Quentin Tarantino. However, as South Korean cinema manages to combine festival acclaim and box office success more than any other country, there is one film that stands out, dominating both film festivals and the box office while leaving an indelible mark on the general audience: Parasite (기생충), became the first International Feature Film and the first non-English language film overall to win The Academy Award for Best Picture, in addition to winning the Palme d’Or and many other accolades. Although it may not be my personal favorite of Bong’s films (my favorite being "Mother," and for many critics, "Memories of Murder" which also is understandable), it is undeniably successful, impactful, and worthy of discussion. Therefore, today’s review focuses on this 2019 addition to Bong Joon-ho’s filmography, who, along with directors like Park Chan-wook, Lee Chang-dong, Na Hong-jin, and Kim Ki-duk, has elevated South Korean cinema. The film stars some of South Korea’s well-known actors, including Song Kang-ho, Lee Sun-kyun, Cho Yeo-jeong, Choi Woo-shik, and Park So-dam. This tragicomedy thriller delves deep into the story of a poor family infiltrating the life of a wealthy family, exploring social class differences and their impact on human relationships. 

The film begins with the Kim family, who live in one of the poor neighborhoods of Seoul. Kim Ki-taek (Song Kang-ho), his wife Chung-sook (Jang Hye-jin), their son Ki-woo (Choi Woo-shik), and their daughter Ki-jung (Park So-dam) reside in a basement apartment under dire conditions. They struggle to find spots in their home to catch a neighbor’s Wi-Fi signal and even leave their windows open during neighborhood fumigations to benefit from the free pest control, despite its known toxicity. The family scrapes by doing low-paying jobs. One day, Ki-woo's friend Min-hyuk suggests that he take over his tutoring job for the daughter of the wealthy Park family, Da-hye, setting off a chain of events that will change the Kim family’s lives forever (but not as they desire).

Ki-woo forges a university diploma and secures a job as Da-hye’s English tutor at the Park family’s house, even starting developing a romantic connection with her, at least from her perspective. The Park family leads a life of wealth and prestige, living in a large, modern home with in addition to Da-hye, father Park Dong-ik, mother Choi Yeon-gyo, young son Da-song, and their housekeeper Moon-gwang. Seeing an opportunity, Ki-woo decides to get his family members jobs at the Park residence. First, his sister Ki-jung is hired as an art therapist for Da-song under a fake identity and credentials. Next, the Kims frame the Park family’s driver, Yoon, leading to his dismissal, and Ki-taek, Ki-woo’s father, takes over as the new driver. Finally, they discover Moon-gwang’s severe allergy and exploit it to get her fired, replacing her with their mother, Chung-sook, as the new housekeeper. Everything seems to be going smoothly for the Kim family, but will it continue that way?

One day, while the Park family is away on vacation, the Kim family begins to indulge in the luxurious lifestyle of the Park residence. However, their enjoyment is interrupted when Moon-gwang returns and reveals that her husband, Oh Geun-sae, has been secretly living in the hidden basement for years to evade his creditors. This shocking discovery leads to a violent confrontation between the Kim family and Moon-gwang and her husband. Meanwhile, the Park family unexpectedly returns home. The Kim family narrowly avoids being caught by hiding or fleeing at the right moments, but they are left with the realization and despair that even if their plans succeed, the results may not be sustainable in the long run. 

Not long after these events, a birthday party is organized for Da-song, and the people who work for the Park family, including the Kim family, are invited. During the party, Geun-sae, whom Ki-woo intended to kill to solidify his status as the Park family’s successor through his relationship (!) with Da-hye (in fact, at the beginning of the story, his friend had suggested the tutoring job out of affection for her and a desire to make someone reliable keep an eye on her, but you can guess what happened later), escapes from the basement, causing a chaotic uproar. Many characters end up injured or dead, but most significantly, Ki-taek reaches his breaking point when Park Dong-ik displays another act of condescension towards his social class, leading him to kill Mr. Park. Ki-woo wakes up in the hospital after brain surgery and learns that both he and his mother have been convicted of fraud and put on probation. He discovers that his sister has died and his father has disappeared. Observing the Park family's former house, now owned by strangers, Ki-woo notices a Morse code message blinking from the basement. This message is from his father, who is hiding there and hoping Ki-woo will see it. Still living in the same basement apartment with his mother, Ki-woo writes a letter to his father, vowing to earn enough money to buy the house and free him. The film ends with Ki-woo’s hopeful yet extremely fantastical plan to reunite with his father, leaving the audience to ponder the possibility of this dream ever becoming a reality.

Although the film is rich with symbols, its narrative is not overly complex, allowing even an average viewer to feel intellectually engaged. Thus, this clarity is why I've provided a more detailed summary. Despite the occasional coincidences that serve the predictable flow of the story, there are key points worth highlighting. Income inequality and class conflict are central themes, but they are explored through a unique lens involving three distinct social classes: the elites, those just above point zero, and those far below it. This multi-layered approach culminates in the chaotic bloodbath of the film’s finale, which brilliantly underscores the complexity and near-impossibility of resolving these issues in reality. The film also adeptly navigates intra- and inter-class relationships and conflicts, maintaining a high tempo throughout its over two-hour runtime. This fast pace contributes to its extraordinary engagement, keeping the audience captivated and deeply involved in its cinematic universe.

One point of criticism about the film is the portrayal of its characters in extreme terms to highlight the conflicts between social classes. The wealthy are depicted as unbelievably foolish, arrogant, and incompetent, while the poor are shown as incredibly crude, destitute, and greedy. However, in terms of symbols and motifs, the film presents a nuanced message pattern that appeals to both the conscious and subconscious mind through simple yet thoughtful touches. One of the most obvious symbolic elements is the title of the film. The question of who the true parasites are—whether it’s the Kim family, a social class, the two families trying to maintain their presence in the house, or how the rich view the poor—is open to interpretation. The film progresses in a cyclical manner, with everyone fitting the term "parasite" at different points. Director Bong Joon-ho explains: "Because the story is about the poor family infiltrating and creeping into the rich house, it seems very obvious that Parasite refers to the poor family, and I think that's why the marketing team was a little hesitant. But if you look at it the other way, you can say that the rich family, they're also parasites in terms of labor. They can't even wash dishes, they can't drive themselves, so they leech off the poor family's labor. So both are parasites." 

----------Warning: This article may contain spoilers!

Directed by Julia Ducournau, Titane is a 2021 French-Belgian film starring Agathe Rousselle and Vincent Lindon (whose performance is particularly powerful). Ducournau made history with this film, becoming the second female director to win the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival, nearly thirty years after Jane Campion. 

The film centers on Alexia, a woman with a titanium plate in her head due to a childhood car accident. As an adult, she works as a showgirl at motor shows, exhibiting an intimate connection to cars, even becoming pregnant by one as the film suggests that her unusual bond with cars stems from that titanium plate in her head. "Titane" presents a surreal, but tries to have a realistic narrative, rooted in vivid imagery that can be interpreted as mechanical personality disorder and body dysmorphia within the film's universe but seems as only valid for the protagonist. Accepting this unconventional premise is crucial for fully appreciating the film. 

Early on, Alexia is revealed to be a serial killer who brutally murders those who cross her path. When one of her killings attracts intense scrutiny from the authorities, she realizes she must flee to avoid capture. In a desperate attempt to escape, Alexia radically alters her appearance, breaking her nose, cutting her hair, shaving her eyebrows, and binding her chest tightly to pass as a boy. She tries to impersonate the identity of Adrien, a boy who went missing years ago, and is taken in by his father, Vincent, a fire captain. Vincent is a deeply troubled man, struggling with body dysmorphia presumably due to the presence of younger and fitter subordinates, leading to steroid addiction. His family also has fallen apart, and he clings to the hope that his son has returned, thus, despite obvious inconsistencies, Vincent accepts Alexia as Adrien. As the film progresses, these inconsistencies become more apparent, yet Vincent lives in denial, clinging to the belief that his son has returned. The relationship between Alexia and Vincent develops, with Alexia eventually embracing her new identity. As suspicions about Alexia arise and more people begin to realize she is not Adrien, the film sharply pivots away from the mystery and focuses entirely on their character development and relationship. Vincent openly states that he does not care about the inconsistencies, and no further development or any continuum on the crime investigation is shown.

In the climax, Alexia displays a sexual interest in Vincent but also reaches the final stages of her pregnancy. She even reveals her real name to Vincent, who helps her during childbirth. Tragically, Alexia dies during the birth, her titanium skull splitting open in her final moments. The film concludes with Vincent holding Alexia's baby, who has a titanium spine, might suggest that he will not be alone despite Alexia's death.

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In this article, I will delve into Triangle of Sadness, a film by Ruben Östlund, a Swedish director I greatly admire. Following his well-known works The Square (which also won the Palme d’Or in 2017) and Force Majeure, this film further established Östlund's reputation by claiming the Palme d’Or in 2022. At the 95th Academy Awards, the film had three nominations and has also been recognized with nominations and awards at various other European and International festivals, thus extending the director's acclaim beyond the continent. Triangle of Sadness is a vigorous dark comedy and an unapologetic satire that challenges boundaries. Featuring an ensemble cast led by Harris Dickinson, Charlbi Dean (in her final film role as she passed away after the movie), Dolly de Leon, Zlatko Burić, Iris Berben, Vicki Berlin, and Woody Harrelson, the film is segmented into three parts, making it relatively easier to watch and to analyze. In it, Östlund targets not only the apparently wealthy but also scrutinizes the entirety of society and its underlying systems. Due to its layered, profound, and finely crafted narrative, I will continue my review by discussing and summarizing the film in segments similar to the director. 

In the first part of Triangle of Sadness, the film focuses on the backgrounds and relationship dynamics of the leading couple, Carl and Yaya. The movie begins with a peculiar fashion shoot involving Carl and other male models. This scene metaphorically contrasts the general public, depicted in the joyful but non-unique style of H&M, against the affluent, who are portrayed as serious, cool, and enviable, akin to Balenciaga. This gives the film an underlying, quick-paced start. We then learn more about Yaya, who is more famous than Carl and engaged in more glamorous works. Unlike her boyfriend, Yaya's popularity on Instagram is not only higher but also on the rise.

Following these introductory scenes, we observe the couple at dinner, which leads to a prolonged and impactful debate over who should pay the bill. This scenario paints Yaya as aiming to be a trophy wife, presenting their relationship as one beneficial for her popularity and her Instagram page, where Carl is essentially her photographer and accessory (!). The dialogue and approach suggest that if Carl cannot reach a certain level of prosperity, the benefits Yaya gains from the relationship may not be enough for her to continue it. Carl, feeling dominated and tired of the clichés in male-female relationships, expresses his exhaustion with always being the one to pay, though he still hopes that Yaya will eventually fall in love with him. Here, the film doesn't show much romance in their relationship; rather, it appears more like an intimate business partnership. This dynamic effectively lays bare a modern type of relationship, where Yaya expects Carl to pay for expensive meals under the guise of equality, satirizing gender roles in a manner that entertains the audience. Additionally, the film critiques the era of social media in first two parts, subtly touching on topics like influencers who post about eating pasta despite claiming to have gluten intolerance, as exemplified by Yaya's character.

The second part of the film unfolds aboard a superyacht, where Carl and Yaya are invited to a luxury cruise in exchange for Yaya's promotion on social media. As expected, this arrangement exacerbates the tension between Carl and Yaya. Carl, benefiting from all the services for free thanks to his girlfriend and only having to do "less than part-time Instagram photography" in return, but still, finds himself in a powerless position as Yaya holds the reins of power. Related to that, a situation arises where a male crew member, who sunbathes shirtless beside them, is inadvertently dismissed due to Carl's complaint to his superior because he started feeling jealous as Yaya even innocently finds him attractive.

However, unlike the first part, this part of the film actually digs into the topics further away from the relationship. Additionally, a bulk of dominant and caricatured side characters, many of whom are wealthy and powerful, joins the picture. Their dialogues and actions are exaggerated yet believably absurd, showcasing meticulous character design and satirical observational skill. Some of the characters introduced in this part include: the wealthy self-proclaimed "shit-seller” capitalist oligarch Dimitry, along with his wife Vera and mistress Ludmilla; the rich elderly couple Clementine and Winston, who have amassed wealth through products they claim bring democracy to third-world countries (grenades, mines, etc.); the lonely tech billionaire Jarmo; the paralyzed Therese who can only utter a single phrase and is confined to a wheelchair; and the socialist captain Thomas Smith who neglects his duties and prefers to stay drunk in his cabin. This part of the film not only expands the narrative beyond the central relationship but also serves as a canvas for Östlund's sharp social commentary, portraying a satirical reflection of the absurdities and inequalities within contemporary society. 

The third part begins on a deserted island where the survivors of the yacht sinking have arrived with a lifeboat and limited supplies. The critical twist here is the complete reversal of hierarchies and class distinctions. Abigail, a middle-aged cleaner who likely immigrated and was at the bottom of the hierarchy on the yacht, becomes the leader on the island and turns the hierarchy upside down. She possesses essential survival skills, such as making fire and fishing, which she uses to gain and enforce power, even reducing Carl to a sort of sex toy in exchange for food. Abigail reaches a point where she, who was once overlooked as a cleaner on the yacht, now commands from the lifeboat, her new "base of operations," and even expels others including Carl's girlfriend Yaya. Survival instincts also drive Jarno to brutally kill a wild donkey by smashing it with a rock, an act that is met with great cheer by many in the group. This segment brilliantly illustrates how power and hierarchy are contingent on time, circumstance, and the skills that are valued in those circumstances. It also explores the human nature of those in power, showcasing how they are prone to maximize and possibly corrupt their control, portrayed in a less caricatured and more serious, even darker tone compared to the second part. Additionally, Yaya, who previously held power over Carl in the earlier parts of the film, becomes jealous as she watches her boyfriend come under Abigail's protection, struggle to adapt, and grow increasingly attentive towards Abigail. This twist adds a layer of personal conflict and emotional complexity to the narrative, highlighting the dynamic shifts in relationships and power structures in extreme situations.

One day, while Abigail and Yaya are exploring the island, they make a surprising discovery that the island isn't deserted at all; in fact, it even houses a holiday resort. This revelation implies a return to normal life, signaling the end of Abigail's reign as the leader. Realizing they are saved, Yaya relaxes on the beach and offers Abigail a position as her assistant back in civilization, promising her a better life. However, simultaneously, Abigail considers killing Yaya by hitting her with a rock, echoing the earlier violent act against the donkey. At this moment, Carl, who has been following them, is seen running towards them frantically as the film draws to a close. The ending is left ambiguous: either Yaya convinces Abigail and Carl rushes to inform others that the island is not isolated, or Abigail has already killed Yaya, as hinted by the donkey metaphor earlier in the film, and Carl is running to let the murder known by the others. Both scenarios are seamlessly integrated into the film’s narrative, ensuring the ending doesn’t feel out of place or forced. This unresolved conclusion adds a layer of suspense and invites viewers to ponder the true nature of human behavior under dire circumstances. 

---------- This review may contain spoilers!

Directed by Justine Triet, one of the rising stars in post-2010s French and European cinema, who co-wrote the screenplay with Arthur Harari, Anatomy of a Fall (Anatomie d'une chute) tackles the mystery of whether a case is one of suicide or murder. Along with that incident and aftermath, the movie focuses on the relationship dynamics between the deceased Samuel, his wife Sandra (a German writer and the primary suspect), and their 11-year-old visually impaired child, Daniel. Additionally, it subtly addresses numerous sub-themes that lend themselves to social criticism.

The movie, it can be said, starts off in a traditional manner and also somewhat slowly. Although the incident and the start of the investigation—the heart of the plot—occur early on and the story builds on this, deepening through ambiguity until the end, the movie risks losing the audience's focus with its unadorned and calm approach. However, the subsequent deepening process, particularly through the investigation and court scenes in order to understand prime suspect Sandra's past, alibi, character and relationships in general, is remarkable. Here, lies the part that internalizes social issues: xenophobia, sexism, prejudice, injustice, etc. There, these themes are presented to us, and the motivations of the characters, as well as the history of their relationships, are laid out for examination from this point onwards.

The peak, and what I assume warranted its Palme d'Or, is the part right before the final resolution, the real climax which also sets the stage for the ultimate unraveling. This is where the uncensored backstory of the married protagonists' relationship is revealed as the movie shows us that the fall referred in the title is not the incident that is investigated but actually the state of the marriage. Until here, Sandra already falls into a really difficult situation especially after what the late Samuel told his psychiatrist about her, and the disclosure of the audio-recorded fight with Sandra in court both complicates the situation and opens a way in which Daniel has to be the decision influencer. Topics such as guilt stemming from their child's blindness, infidelity due to sexual distance, and the impact of disparities in the couple's successes on their relationship are explored in a thought-provoking manner. Thus, this part declares to us that while the main mystery may still indeed need to be solved, it is actually not the focal point. 

Another critical point is the parent-child relationship that directly influences the story more through causality than depth, with the healthiness of that not reflected on screen but inferred, and the child character whose relationships we actually anticipate solely based on events within the story. Representing logic and instinct in the story, Daniel plays a decisive role (with contributions from his dog and the spectator assigned to accompany him during the trial) in how the story concludes, particularly highlighting the reality that a child's need for his parents during the development stage can transcend the right and wrong.