Park Chan-wook’s Finest: Films That Outshine Parasite
Park Chan-wook and Bong Joon Ho have shaped Korean cinema, but which of Chan-wook’s films truly surpass the global phenomenon of Parasite? Explore a fresh ranking of his most compelling works.
Within the landscape of Korean film, two names tend to dominate the conversation: Park Chan-wook and Bong Joon Ho. Both have been crafting acclaimed works for decades, yet the extraordinary impact of Bong’s Parasite—sweeping the Oscars and captivating audiences worldwide—remains unmatched in terms of mainstream reach. Still, for those willing to look beyond the headlines, Park’s oeuvre offers a depth and resonance that, for some, leaves an even greater mark.
Reframing Borders: Joint Security Area
After a couple of less memorable early projects, Park found his stride with Joint Security Area, a film he himself regards as his true directorial debut. Eschewing his later penchant for stylised violence, he instead focuses on the human cost of division along the Korean DMZ. The narrative, reminiscent of Rashomon, unfolds after a deadly incident sparks a diplomatic crisis between North and South. What starts as a taut whodunit soon becomes a meditation on brotherhood and the tragic consequences of political dogma. Park’s close attention to character and the urgency of the subject matter arguably cut deeper than the class satire of Parasite.
It’s a bold piece, unafraid to tackle fraught territory, and while it may seem restrained compared to his later work, its emotional weight is considerable. The film’s reputation has only grown, and it stands as a testament to Park’s skill with political nuance.
Love and Obsession: Decision to Leave
Park’s reputation often rests on his flair for violence and symbolism, but he’s equally adept at weaving romance into his stories. Decision to Leave is no conventional love story; it’s a neo-noir mystery wrapped around a doomed affair. A detective, investigating a suspicious death, finds himself drawn to the victim’s widow. The film explores guilt, longing, and the inevitability of heartbreak, culminating in an ending that lingers long after the credits.
Some may find the symbolism a bit dense, demanding full attention, but it’s all in service of the film’s themes. Unlike the brash, accessible satire of Parasite, this is a slow-burn, quietly devastating piece. Its omission from the Oscars was, frankly, a bit of a travesty.
Twists and Turns: The Handmaiden
Arguably one of the standout films of the last ten years, The Handmaiden deserved far more recognition than it received. Park takes the shifting perspectives of Joint Security Area and pushes them further, constructing a three-act tale brimming with surprises. What begins as a con spirals into a complex web of deceit, desire, and shifting allegiances.
The chemistry between Sook-hee and Lady Hideko is electric, and Park crafts a narrative that’s both provocative and empowering. While tragedy is a familiar note in his work, here he subverts expectations, delivering a conclusion as surprising as the journey itself.
Capitalism and Desperation: No Other Choice
No Other Choice stands out not just for its recency, but for its thematic kinship with Parasite. Both films dissect the machinery of capitalism, though Park’s focus is on personal desperation and the dehumanising grind of corporate life. The story follows Yoo Man-su, recently made redundant, as he takes increasingly drastic steps to secure his future.
Park’s signature visual flair and dark humour are on full display, amplifying the sense of tragedy. The film is a bleak, razor-sharp portrait of late-stage capitalism, with a chilling undercurrent about the rise of AI. The ending, while seemingly triumphant on the surface, is anything but hopeful beneath.
Revenge Redefined: Oldboy
If there’s one film that put Korean cinema on the global map, it’s Oldboy. The second entry in Park’s Vengeance trilogy, it’s a masterclass in pacing, action, and psychological complexity. The story of Dae-su Oh’s quest for answers and retribution is as gripping as it is disturbing, and Park refuses to paint his antagonist in simple terms.
Twisted yet oddly beautiful, Oldboy’s infamous final twist still shocks, even years after its release. It’s a film best experienced with as little foreknowledge as possible, and its influence continues to be felt across world cinema.
With such a varied body of work, the question of which film stands above the rest is ultimately a matter of personal taste. Whether you’re drawn to Park’s artistry or Bong’s social commentary, there’s no shortage of brilliance to discover.