Film Review: "The Housemaid"

Directed by Sang-Soo Im
Starring Do-Youn Jeon, Jung-Lae Lee, Tuh-Jung Youn, Woo Seo
South Korea; Cannes, In Competition; Running time: 104 minutes

Sex. Wealth. Adultery. Abortion. Tradition. Attempted murder. Suicide. Such themes build the foundation on which South Korean director Sang-Soo Im presents his remarkable film, “The Housemaid.”

Eun-yi is a reserved young woman who enters the home of a wealthy family to serve as their maid and help raise their daughter. The master of the house becomes disinterested in his own pregnant wife, so he takes advantage of his superior social status and instigates an affair with Eun-yi. She becomes pregnant, and despite pressure to do otherwise, she is determined to keep her child. Before long, all members of the family become aware of the situation, and, for lack of a better phrase, all hell breaks loose. Not realizing that the wife has discovered her husband’s affair and forthcoming bastard child, nor the threat posed by the wife and her mother, Eun-yi decides to continue living in the home. The family demands Eun-yi have an abortion, and they do everything necessary to insure that her child is never born.

There are so many aspects of this film that are noteworthy, but above all this film is impeccably paced. Having seen nearly thirty films over the course of just ten days, as I have here in Cannes, I have often felt that certain films are drawn-out or seem to progress too slowly. And while pacing is an aspect of film that makes it hard to pinpoint excellence, frequent movie-goers just “know” when a film is fluid, when scenes don’t drag on too long and shots are cut at the right moment. In “The Housemaid,” this feeling of proper forward motion is omnipresent.

Going hand-in-hand with pacing is photography, and this film delivers in this arena as well. There’s a scene toward the end of the film showing Eun-yi in the hospital as she is suffering a miscarriage. The wife of the household and her mother have been slowly poisoning Eun-yi in order to effectively terminate her pregnancy, and the result of their wickedness has been realized. There’s one shot in particular where we see Eun-yi being intebated, and a single tear streams down her cheek; her face is illuminated by angelic, soft light, the source of which seems almost divine. In this moment, we witness every bit of angst suffered by this young woman, and we, as the audience, feel deeply for her. This emotive moment is created through thoughtful cinematography.

While the film’s creators shot with care and pieced the film together with skill, this film will resonate with audiences because it boasts a provocative and thrilling narrative to be showcased by these other elements. Through bits of dramatic irony, the audience learns of the affair and the wife’s sinister plans before the film’s characters. This creates a palpable tension as we watch characters tip-toe around, trying desperately not to get caught.

Human sensuality and luxuries of the wealthy play a very important role in the subtext of this film. The movie is set on the backdrop of a grand but chilling home, filled with white marble and accents of black and gray. Even the bedroom of the married couple is decorated in cool colors, reflective of their dispassionate marriage. During a scene in the film where they are being intimate, they talk to each other as if they are business associates in a meeting. Contrary are the warm tones associated with the flesh, as well as the food and wine presented throughout the film. The husband is clearly stimulated and entertained by physical intimacy, expensive wine, and good food, all readily available in his excessive lifestyle.

In my mind, one of the filmmaker’s major purposes in creating this film is to present a critique of the manner in which the wealthy live. There is a quote in the film where the wife’s mother tells here that “with a rich husband, cheating is part of the package.” She delivers this information with no sense of despair or disgust – it is simply the way things operate. In the film, however, we witness the intense pain and suffering endured when an individual pursues everything he desires without expected consequence. The husband wants Eun-yi because he is bored with his own wife, so he takes her. What he doesn’t realize is that this action of desire effectively leads to the destruction of this innocent character. An acronym offered by the older, more mature maid of the house, in my mind, sums up the filmmaker’s opinion of the upper class – RUNS: revolting, ugly, nauseating, shameful.

Cinema today is filled with scenes of physical intimacy; as we hear time and time again, “sex sells.” In this film, however, sex is presented and shot in an intriguing way that delivers the intended message effectively while maintaining a certain level of integrity and class. In one scene where Eun-yi and the husband are having intercourse, the camera remains static on an extreme close-up, and all we see is sweat-covered flesh repeatedly coming into contact. As adults, do don’t need to see anything more to grasp the situation – there is no need for more graphic imagery. After all, sex is, on a most basic level, about getting close to another individual, so positioning the camera close to the individuals only makes sense.

In the arena of filmmaking, especially on an international stage like the Cannes Film Festival, critics are always barking that filmmakers should stay true to their country of origin and make films that reflect where their cultural heritage. In the case of “The Housemaid,” the director incorporates elements of the traditional sentiment in Asian culture that individuals should mask their feelings and maintain a certain level of discretion and formality at all time. In the film, this idea is expressed in the phrase “be a rock.” This is spoken by the wife’s mother in reference to how she should behave in the midst of her family turmoil. While Eun-yi, breaking from the traditional mold in so many ways, expresses her feelings honestly, the understanding in the world of her upper class superiors is that this is not acceptable behavior.

Sex. Wealth. Adultery. Abortion. Tradition. Attempted murder. Suicide. These elements build a platform on which filmmaker Sang-Soo Im showcases a tragic drama and compelling critique of the rich in “The Housemaid.” This story is portrayed beautifully on the screen, and Im’s contribution to international cinema certainly should not go unnoticed.