Idol (2019) Review

“Idol” Theatrical Poster

Director: Lee Su-jin
Cast: Han Suk-Kyu, Sol Kyung-Gu, Chun Woo-Hee, Yoo Seung-Mok, Joe Byeong-Gyu, Kim Jae-Hwa, Hyun Bong-Sik, Jo Dae-Hee, Kang Mal-Geum
Running Time: 144 min.

By Paul Bramhall

The topic of political corruption has always provided fertile ground for filmmakers in Korea, almost to the point that if a politician turns up in a Korean movie, it’s a safe bet that they’ll either end up corrupt (if they’re not already), or at the very least be involved in a plot involving corruption in some way. While the predictability of such characters may be expected to result in overly familiar storylines, on the contrary some filmmakers have used the theme to create pieces of work that range from devastating to devilishly entertaining. The likes of Woo Min-ho’s Inside Men, Lee Kyoung-mi’s The Truth Beneath, and Han Jae-rim’s The King all tackle themes of corruption either as part of or the central theme of their stories, and all rank as some of the best productions to come out of Korea in recent years.

In 2019 director Lee Su-jin released his sophomore feature Idol which also uses the theme of political corruption to frame a broader story that focuses on the dark follies of human nature. Han Suk-kyu (The Prison, The Gingko Bed) plays a popular member of the city council who’s angling to run for governor, plans which are put at risk when he returns home one night to find his wife (Kang Mal-geum – The Chase, Lucky Chan-sil) cleaning up a bloody mess in the garage, a mangled body wrapped in plastic. It turns out their son (Cho Byeong-kyu – Miss and Mrs. Cops, Slow Video) was involved in a hit and run, and panic stricken made the decision to stuff the body in the trunk and bring it back home.

In most movies which cover similar territory the plot would go down the path of Suk-kyu’s involvement in hiding the body, but Idol quickly defies expectations by having his character report the hit and run to the police, and hand his son in to the authorities to confess his guilt. It’s revealed that the victim was the mentally disabled son of small store owner Sol Kyung-gu (Memoir of a Murderer, The Merciless), here sporting a shock of dyed blonde hair, and instead the narrative centres its focus on the relationship that forms between the 2 fathers. When it’s revealed that the victims girlfriend was also present at the time of the incident, a Chinese immigrant who’s not been seen since, both Suk-kyu and Kyung-gu begin a frantic search to track her down – one to hide the truth, and the other to uncover it.

Any movie which opens with the line “I jerked my son off” is clearly looking to grab the audience’s attention from the get-go, and director Su-jin’s intentional shock tactics serve their purpose without coming across as cheap or manipulative. Only the 2nd time to sit in the director’s chair, for his sophomore feature Su-jin casts 2 of the biggest names from the early days of the Korean Wave in the form of Han Suk-kyu and Sol Kyung-gu, here sharing the screen together for the first time, and their pairing doesn’t disappoint. Working from his own script, Idol marks Su-jin’s long awaited sophomore feature after 2014’s powerhouse of a debut Han Gong-ju, and like his debut Idol also uses an element of mystery to keep events unfolding in increasingly twisty and unexpected ways.

While both of his movies so far deal with the aftermath of a traumatic even, in Idol Su-jin seems keen to explore broader themes, with a narrative that touches on the inherent ambition of man and what it takes to get there, as well as the divides that exist between the different parts of society. Far from making Kyung-gu a revenge seeking father figure, instead he finds himself manipulated to become a part of Suk-kyu’s bigger plans, ones which see him smartly using the incident as a way to cement his perception of an honest and upright candidate in the eyes of the public. The dynamic between the pair develops concurrently to their individual searches for the missing girlfriend, which sees the setting shift to the small-town hostess bars and rural farms illegal Chinese immigrants usually find themselves working in.

The ace up Idol’s sleeve is the casting of Chun Woo-hee as the girlfriend in question. Woo-hee played the title character in Su-jin’s debut Han Gong Ju delivering a career best performance, and although she’s appeared in the likes of The Piper and The Wailing since, it seems to be Su-jin who knows exactly what kind of role best utilises her talents. While the plot dictates that her presence become another piece of the puzzle in unravelling exactly what happened that night (which it’s worth mentioning Su-jin makes the admirable decision to never actually show), Idol’s off-kilter structure has other ideas in mind. Woo-hee’s arrival in the 140+ minute runtime changes the tone significantly, essentially making her a 3rd leading character. 

As an immigrant looking to find her way in a foreign country it becomes clear that neither Suk-kyu is prepared for the type of person he’s going to be dealing with, nor that Kyung-gu had any idea about her past before he arranged for her to enter his sons life. Woo-hee’s character is difficult to pin down, an unpredictable force of nature capable of lashing out if she feels backed into a corner, but also willing to show enough humanity that she remains relatable. As secrets begin to bubble to the surface, Suk-kyu’s willingness to resort to increasingly desperate measures to ensure his image is protected collides head on with Woo-hee’s willingness to do anything to survive, and the combination pushes Idol into some gruesome territory.

There’s a lot to unpack in Idol, and the feeling that more is going on underneath the surface than what we see onscreen is rarely far away. Each character is desperate in their own way, whether it be to protect their reputation, to continue living, or to find the truth, the sense of that desperation becomes more palpable as the narrative relentlessly barrels forward, giving Idol a slightly unhinged tone. There are similarities here between the previously mentioned The Truth Beneath in the way both involve a hunt for truth with political undertones, and the increasingly violent paths our characters choose to follow to get there. While Su-jin never saturates the screen with violence, when it comes it hits hard, with one particularly grotesque dream sequence that wouldn’t be out of place in a horror movie sure to linger in the memory.

Su-jin shows a deft hand at incorporating elements of pitch-black humour into the storyline that are reminiscent of Park Chan-wook’s gift for doing the same. When Suk-kyu and his family go to visit Kyung-gu at his store to apologise, disco style karaoke lights are accidentally switched on that can’t be switched off, causing the scene to descend into the absurd as the conversation takes place bathed in brightly coloured flashing lights. Later on a commotion in a brothel while searching for Woo-hee results in a crowd of semi-naked customers congregating to watch on in the background, culminating in the owner sending everyone home with the promise of a refund for anyone who didn’t climax. These offbeat scenes are infrequent but achieve their intention despite the grim nature of the plot, an element of Su-jin’s repertoire which is on show for the first time in Idol.

While sophomore features that follow outstanding debuts are always tricky, with Idol Lee Su-jin has cemented his place as one of the most fiercely original voices working in the Korean film industry today. Idol is a movie which grabs you by the throat from the get go, and doesn’t let go for the entirety of its lengthy runtime, a dark but never less than entertaining tour de force into how far humans are willing to go to achieve what they feel they rightfully deserve. In life most of us have our idols, but have we ever questioned what they may have done to get there?

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 8.5/10