Halloween Horror Pick: A Tale of Two Sisters
So Pretty. So Dead.
A Tale of Two Sisters
Director Ji-woon Kim
Release: June 13, 2003
**** 4/5
I’m going to impart to you words of wisdom that were once given to me.
My friends and I, we were about 15 when The Ring came out and my brother was the first to see it. When he came back, he’d tell me if it was any good, worth my important 15-year-old time. And it turns out it was. He came home excited, not wanting to say too much except that I had to see it. But there was one more thing, he told me–and this was the pivotal part: “You better bring your crappin’ boots.”
It was one of those lines that made no sense if you broke it down but I understood immediately: the movie was so scary it’d make you crap your pants, the crap so big that it’d proceed down toward your shoes. Obviously. See, in cases like these, cases of terrifying cinema, your footwear becomes exceedingly important. What do you do right before the final shot of Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Simply apply your crappin’ boots. What’s on the agenda right around the 70min mark of [REC]? Crappin’ boots. And in the case of A Tale of Two Sisters, well, let’s just say you might want to want to dust off the old CBs and slip those puppies on. Because you’re definitely gonna need ‘em.
From Korean writer-director Ji-woon Kim, A Tale of Two Sisters follows sisters Su-mi and Su-yeon as they, along with their father, move back into their old house with their absurdly creepy step-mother after a time away, alluded to early on, to “get well.”
This is one of those rare horror movies that feels like it wasn’t actually made by a horror director*. And by that I mean that it seems more concerned with setting a tone, creating a mood and cementing its style than it does with just scaring you. Which is exactly what makes it horrifying. The film-making here is careful and meticulous, each shot more tender and ominous than the last. Whether it’s the film’s lush coloring, vibrant use of sound or conscious pacing, Kim feels in complete and absolute control of every frame, not just building tension and mystery, not just drawing you further and further in like some kind of hypnosis, but delivering images, quietly and consistently, both beautiful and terrible, terrifying and poetic. From an aesthetic standpoint alone, the film is like a flipbook of framed paintings, a perfectly orchestrated symphony of strange.
*note: feels the way other films do when their directors dabble outside their niche–like John Landis making An American Werewolf in London, or Sam Medes’ Jarhead, or Ang Lee taking on the comic genre for Hulk. Say what you want about any of those but each has a “genre-exception”-type quality about it, all interesting results.
At its heart A Tale of Two Sisters is a ghost story. But it’s as much about family and relationships and love as it is anything dark or grim–which is maybe what makes it work so well. There’s a real helplessness to watching characters you’ve grown to know, and like, and feel for, going down roads you know will inevitably end in tragedy. There’s this great heartbreaking quality about it.
And I often miss opportunities to write about good movies or episodes or whatever else because of procrastination–I let them sit in my draft pile until their shine wears off and I lose the passion. But I forced myself to do this one while everything was still fresh, its memory and affect. Because I want to remember it.
I want to remember sitting by myself with the lights off and grinning, saying “ohmygodohmygodohmygod” to no one as images reflect off my face and the absurdly creepy step-mother walks briskly up the stairs to Su-yeong’s room. I want to remember being not just impressed with the movie’s scares but actually scared by them, waking up the next morning and for one irrational and glorious half-second imagining fingernails scraping against the floor or a girl crawling across my carpet, feeling a pit flash through my stomach right before I remember, oh yeah, I’m supposed to be an adult. All of it. I want to hold onto the experience of that first watch, not just because ones like these don’t happen that often but because, in a way, these moments kind of encapsulate an odd in-between time for me. Between college and real life, FL and possibly NY, sundown and when I finally fall asleep. Which is weird to think about but seems important to acknowledge.
Anyway, the last 30minutes or so of the film get a little muddled, but their repercussions (and it’s so hard to talk about without spoiling anything) are just absolutely brutal. And the style is never, ever, compromised.
A modern horror film with style? Oh yeah, this one’s special. Screen it in surround sound and make sure all the lights are off.
Oh, and don’t forget your crappin’ boots.
(Or not. Even though it doesn’t really ruin anything, personally, I’d skip it. It’s flashy and over-dramatic. Better to go in fresh. Just sayin’.)
**Speaking of The Ring: Its original, Ringu, was an Asian film as well. Could it be that Asian films are just simply scarier than American ones? Is that really possible? Or is it that the only ones we ever hear about over here are the gems, the ones worth remaking, and that skews perception?
:The Ring, The Grudge, The Uninvited, Pulse, The Eye, Mirrors, Dark Water, Shutter, One Missed Call, etc., etc., etc….
(and that’s not even including non-horrors. sheesh)
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