Human, Space, Time and Human (2018) Review

“Human, Space, Time and Human” Theatrical Poster

Director: Kim Ki-Duk
Cast: Jang Keun-Suk, Ryoo Seung-Bum, Ahn Sung-Ki, Mina Fujii, Lee Sung-Jae, Joe Odagiri, Tae Hang-Ho, Park Se-in, Sung Ki-Yoon, Kim Dong-chan
Running Time: 122 min.

By Paul Bramhall

If ever there was an example of a movie destined to seal the fate of its creator, then it could very well be Human, Space, Time and Human, controversial Korean auteur Kim Ki-duk’s latest (and most likely last) movie. Still unreleased in Korea thanks to the accusations of rape and assault made against the embattled director, made when the #metoo movement swept across the Korean entertainment industry in 2017, Ki-duk’s latest does him no favors. Featuring the gang rape of two women, and subsequent repeated individual rape of one of them (by different men), if that isn’t enough to put you off, then bear in mind that at this point we’re not even half an hour in.

Where did it all go wrong for Ki-duk? It’s hard to say, as almost all of his work has been accused of being misognistic in some way, however in his most acclaimed works the cruelty and violence felt like part of a bigger picture that somehow justified it. From his 1996 debut with Crocodile, for the next 10 years Ki-duk was always confronting, but felt like he always had something to say. Movies like The Isle, 3-Iron, and of course his classic Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…And Spring (of which his latest riffs on the title) belong in any conversation on modern Korean cinema, but that’s not the case for his latest. Human, Space, Time and Human feels like Ki-duk has gone too deep into the abyss, creating a piece of work that feels repulsive and shallow, with little other ambition than to shock the audience watching it.

The plot is equal parts baffling and painfully obvious in its intentions. Proceedings open with a ragtag group of travllers onboard a rusted old warship out at sea. Where it’s bound for, and why they’re on it, is never implicitly stated. Amongst them there’s an up and coming politiican (Lee Sung-jae) and his son (Jang Keun-suk), a newly married couple (Mina Fujii and Joe Odagiri), a group of gangsters (led by Ryoo Sung-beom), and a mysterious old man who goes around collecting dust (Ahn Sung-ki). The irony isn’t lost on me that, despite the unpleasant nature of HSTAH (as I’ll refer to it from here on), Ki-duk has assembled an impressivley all-star cast.

Ryoo Seung-beom (who starred in Ki-duk’s 2016 production The Net) is here reunitied with the legendary Ahn Sung-ki (The Divine Fury) for the first time since appearing together in 2003’s Arahan. Mina Fujii is a Japanese actress fluent in Korean, and is well known on Korean shores thanks to her role in 2015’s My New Sassy Girl (less so for 2014’s Monsterz, the insipid Japanese remake of Haunters). Here she speaks Japanese, and is paired with Joe Odagiri (The World of Kanako), himself no stranger to working with Ki-duk after starring in 2008’s Dream. Much like that movie, here language plays no part in the characters understanding of each other, with Fujii and Odagiri able to speak Japanese to Koreans and vice versa. Although on the surface this seems like a quirk, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced Ki-duk likely couldn’t find a Korean actress willing to accept a part which involves so much physical assault.

In the lead-up to the multiple rapes, Sung-beom and his cronies align themselves with Sung-jae’s ambitious politician, offering to act as enforcers while he positions himself as the leader of the ship, much to son Keun-suk’s disgruntlement. As night passes, when everyone wakes up they find the ship is no longer on the sea, but instead is floating through the sky, the earth far below. With a limited food supply, the allegiances that began to form when the ship was on a more earthly realm begin to take on more sinister purposes. Sung-jae becomes increasingly greedy, and backed by Sung-beom and his thugs, they start to ration the other passengers food so that they can dine in luxury. Fujii realises she’s preganant, but has no idea who the father is, and is only comforted by the confliced Keun-suk (who wasn’t conflicted enough to not rape her, so the baby could also be his). Oh, and just what is the seeminly mute Sung-ki doing with all that dust?

What may contain an element of mystery on paper, unfolds in a heavy handed and plodding manner onscreen, making controversial scenes from Ki-duk’s earlier work seem nuanced in comparison. The only characters with credited names are that of Keun-suk and Fujii, billed as Adam and Eve respectively, making the intention of HSTAH apparent. Ki-duk has shown an interest in both Buddhism and Christianity throughout his career, with Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring being the most obvious example of the former, and more recent efforts like Amen and Pieta focusing on the later. Here the origins of humanity are clumsily transferred to the floating warship, and it’s this element which serves to show just how misguided Ki-duk’s intentions have become.

When asked about the depictions of rape in HSTAH, Ki-duk seemed to believe he’d made a piece advocating pro-life, explaining that Fujii’s character should be seen as the mother of the Earth and saviour of humanity, since so many men impregnated her. It’s a somewhat sad and repungent viewpoint to justify the uncomfortable gang rape, and not only makes it a morally bankrupt experience to watch, but also tarnishes the viewing of his well regarded earlier works. There’s always a question of if an audience should seperate the art from the artist. However with Ki-duk, based on the allegations and his work on HSTAH, as a viewer I found myself questioning if all the naysayers of his previous work may have been right the entire time. Ki-duk’s movies have never been popular in Korea, instead enjoying considerable success overseas (particulrly in Europe), however maybe his native audience always knew what the deal was.

Ironically all of this is wrapped up in the longest running time of any of his movies to date, clocking in at just over 2 hours. It’s a long time to watch something as unsubtle and blatant in its message, and in the latter half the focus shifts to ugly violence. With Sung-jae’s politician consumed by greed, the inevtiable food shortage eventually leads to the passengers having to eat each other. At one point we even get a scene recycled from Pieta, in which Fujii resorts to slicing off a piece of her own flesh in order to feed Keun-suk. Sub-plots are thrown in which add nothing to the plot, such as the capatain and his crew finding a box of grenades, which they intend to use against Sung-jae and Sung-beom. The bickering between a trio of prostitutes proves to be equally meaningless, only adding to the bloated duration.

You may be wondering where exactly Ahn Sung-ki fits into all of this, one of the most respected actors in Korea for over a half a century. The good news is, he’s neither a part of the rape or scenes of violence, instead taking on the role of a mute horticulturist, seemingly focused on growing plants and flowers from what little is available. I admit it was painful to see 2 of my favorite Korean actors, the other being Ryoo Sung-beom, appear in a production such as this. While Sung-beom has worked with Ki-duk before as the lead in 2016’s The Net, that was arguably a very different production to HSTAH. While here he gets to chew up the scenery in his own inimtable way, the nature of his character sucks the fun out of it, only adding to the relentless cruel streak rather than offering a reprieve from it.

In the final scene Ki-duk deviates from his religious allegory, and instead desires to make a point that men and their sexual appetites will ultimately always be forced upon women, regardless of what the relationship is between them. A view of the world that indicates the male population as the hunters, and the female population as the hunted, it’s a stomach churning close to an unpleasant 120 minutes. Much like the rotting flesh of a corpse that one character eats, Human, Space, Time and Human leaves a bad taste, and it doesn’t feel like one that can be washed down easily.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 2/10